***"Are we ready, then, to seek out and destroy this one-eyed assassin and rescue J'layah's sister? Methinks we must needs move quickly, as those traitors are sufficiently privy to our plans that we may already have lost the advantage of surprise."***
Balefire's words sent a jolt of adrenaline through J'layah and a small knot of fear settled in the pit of her stomach (the only thing she'd managed to keep down all morning). The moment both dreaded and anticipated had finally arrived. She wandered over to where Elfiran was busily stacking parcels of food and kegs of ale, whistling a merry ditty as he worked. "I know you are coming with us Elfiran, but I just wanted to thank you for your wonderful hospitality and generosity," she gestured at the mountain of supplies. "Tamriel could sorely use more folk like yourself." Then she turned and sought out Twilight, who was conducting a final weapons check. "Shall we?"
Less than half an hour later the entire party gathered at the Mages Guild. "Are you sure you can track us Balefire?" J'layah asked, "I would hate to arrive on the one-eyed man's doorstep with no support!" The big Warmage's nod was confident as he assured her the rest of the party would arrive on the scene shortly after she and Twilight. "Right then, wish us luck!" She looked around for Twilight, nearly jumping out of her skin when the newly invisible elf placed a hand on her shoulder. J'layah began reciting the words that would transport them to Aldingbury, and into the lion's den.
When the disorienting effect of the teleport spell faded, the women found themselves on a vast, arid plain surrounded by low hills. A great stone citadel loomed ahead - less than a mile in the distance. The air was very dry and the temperature several degrees hotter than Vanshire. J'layah was puzzled. "This is not Aldingbury. Perhaps I uttered the spell incorrectly!"
"Something is amiss here," Twilight hissed, "very wrong." Her true invisibility spell suddenly flickered and died.........
K'tarin moved to the table on which Elfiran was piling the foodstuffs. With a nod to the high elf, he took two packs in one hand and paced back to Alduin, who was busy packing up his ink, pen, and paper. He set down one pack before the wizened little man and took off his own.
"We leave shortly," he said as he placed both his pack and the one with food and drink on the table with a dull thump.
Alduin jumped slightly. "Really? Oh, well I'm ready then."
Nervously--why was he nervous?--he began struggling into his food pack, but the Redguard snatched it from him. K'tarin eyed him for a moment. The scribe seemed so frail now.
"You have enough to carry. Those inks and scrolls are heavy enough."
Without waiting for, nor inviting, a reply, the Werre tied the straps of the three packs--his own and the two food packs--together to form a large whole with his pack as the centre. The right strap of one food pack fit over one shoulder, and the left strap of the other food pack fit over his other. Both straps of his own pack were tied to the free straps of the others. When he was finished, he saw that all was well with the rest of the party, and proceeded to the door. In short order, he brought around a tiny pony and set it before Alduin. With easy effort, he set the little man on the ponies back and led out another horse from the stable. This one had been S'talin's and Shomshar's. In one smooth motion, K'tarin was in the saddle, and the party set out.
"Where the blazes are we?" J'layah kicked at a small hillock in frustration, dislodging a smooth, rounded rock in the process. The "rock" rolled towards her, eventually coming to rest several paces from where she stood; two gaping holes in its surface looking for all the world like......."a skull!" gasped J'layah, horrified. The ancient skull seemed to leer at her accusingly, and she hurried away to join her companion.
Twilight, seemingly unperturbed by J'layah's grisly find, was calmly surveying their surroundings. "It would appear we are somewhere in Hammerfell, if I am not mistaken, but beyond that I could not say. Best we await the arrival of the others before moving on," she indicated the black citadel in the distance. The failure of her True Invisibility spell was an unexpected and disturbing turn of events, and Twilight was loath to venture into the unknown without a few more sword arms guarding her back. They settled in to wait, J'layah reciting amusing anecdotes to pass the time.
She was halfway through a particularly bawdy and colourful rendition of "Liandra's Lament" (a fictional account of the invention of "silly cone" implants) when a rasping cough interrupted her monologue. Both women immediately leapt to their feet and assumed crouching stances, their weapons drawn. J'layah waved her sword tip in the direction of a nearby mound. "It came from over there," she whispered. Twilight nodded, moving swiftly and silently to investigate, with J'layah following ten paces behind.
Behind the mound they were greeted by an awful sight; there, clad only in a loincloth, sun-blistered limbs staked to the ground - almost beyond recognition, was the one-eyed man. How long he had been out there suffering was anybody's guess. Slowly he turned his head towards them and opened his parched, blackened lips to speak........
Alduin peered at the vision on the wayside. The night air blended seamlessly into the bright day beating down on J'layah and Twilight. The effect was eye-bending. The two women were crouching back to back, but otherwise there was no movement; not a cloud in the sky, not a wisp of dust over the earth. All was silent.
The scribe stepped forward and reached to touch the vision, but thought better of it. The dark elf had a mask of concentration and anger on his face, and Alduin didn't wish to disrupt his spell. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and studied the terrain. The earth had an odd quality about it. The sand was pale, and the rocks bleached white. Here and there clusters would push up in strange formations.
"Thoth Durghanti."
Alduin jerked back from the vision. He spun on the Werre. The Redguard was staring at the barren land, seeming unaware of the reaction his words had brought.
"What was that? It can't be!" The little man was immediately angry.
K'tarin gave him one look. "Thoth Durghanti."
The Redguard's expression brooked no doubt. Alduin looked again at the desert. The strange rocks he now recognised as bone. The formations, half a femur, a bit of rib, the tip of a rusted sword. Everyone was getting annoyed at being in the dark.
Elfiran put a heavy hand on Alduin's shoulder. "What is thet place? Tis nay a name thet rolls off the tongue well."
The old man couldn't tear his eyes from the wasted land, but cocked his head in the high elf's direction. "It means 'Sea of Bone.' It has many other names as well: Holm F'thathin, 'Heart's Hold;' and Duralgdur Th'Sollar, 'Lord Th'Sollar's Stand.' The place is infamous. Supposedly, there is a name for it for every Werre who died there."
Tabanallis frowned. "What kind of name is 'Heart's Hold?'"
The wizened scribe shrugged. "Possibly for all the blood spilled there. Thoth Durghanti, the Sea of Bone, was the site of possibly the greatest battle ever waged on the plains of Hammerfell. As I understand it, Lord Th'Sollar, a mythical figure, had been slowly gaining ground in a war lasting over a decade. His name appears in various stories near the end of the war, about when the Werre first appear in Hammerfell. Oh, I almost forgot! The people of Hammerfell were rising up against a consortium of mages called the Horned Council."
Alduin paused to point at the black bulk of the fortress hunched on the crumpled hills beyond Twilight and J'layah.
"That, my friends, is the Guardian Citadel. I do not know it's native name, but it was the last line of defence for the Horned Council. The Werre gathered all their number to break it, but instead of a few day's fight, a siege developed that stretched into months, marked by constant skirmishes and pitched battles. Summer is harsh there, but winter is harsher. In midwinter, the Citadel was emptied. Instead of being idle, the forces in the Citadel had multiplied, and beasts of pure magic, Denigroth I believe?--" Alduin turned to K'tarin for confirmation, but got none. "--The beasts descended upon the Werre forces and the greatest and final battle for the Guardian Citadel ensued. Also, the great First One was there, but I know nothing of it other than that it fought for the Horned Citadel. Losses were horrific on both sides, and though the Werre won, they hadn't the strength to take the field or secure the fortress. The place was shunned thereafter. What you see is its legacy. Even now, nothing lives there."
As Alduin finished, J'layah kicked at a roundish rock. It dislodged and rolled to a halt, revealing eye sockets. About the skull lay the faint remnants of a helm. She leapt back straight into Twilight, who regarded the object with detachment. Suddenly, they both whirled around at a sound coming from beyond the edge of the vision.
Balefire drew in a deep breath. "Now I know how it is familiar. This place is spoken of only in whispers. Werre-Bane."
K'tarin fairly bristled at the name. "Torith au Werre."
Everyone tensed as J'layah and Twilight moved from their field of view in wary crouches, weapons drawn.
"Well, it seems thet there may be somethin' livin' there yet. I think we best be gettin' there quickly. Whatever ken survive among bones ken nay be wholesome."
The sun continued to beat down on him. The rope dug viciously into his wrists. Deep grooves caked with blackened blood marked them. His ankles were similarly bound, though they had long since lost all feeling. The frayed remnant of rope lay about his head. The rope had bound his head, forcing his face to the sky; but there was a sharp fragment of bone near his head, and for a day and a half, he had rubbed the rope against it until it broke. It had given him little relief, for though he could turn his eye from the sun, the sand and powdered bone burned his cheeks. His arms were burned. His bare chest and legs were burned. The earth had burned his back and neck, leaving pealing, sensitive flesh at the mercy of fine bone fragments and pebbles. His body was pocked with blisters and sores, but death would not come for him. Death itself seemed to shun this place...as did life.
A plate of food--black bread and salted meat--had been placed by his left hand just out of reach and a goblet of water by his right. He knew them to be poisoned and had scorned them. He had tried to cast spells of escape: opening, levitation, unbinding, even a fireball to blast the ropes. No spells would work in this place. That was days ago. Now he would give anything to eat that bread, that meat; the water had evaporated the first day.
A shadow fell over him.
*Is it night?* he thought to himself. *No. The shadow is on my face only. Death? Has death come for me?*
Heeram Thule painfully turned his head to the shadow. His eye cracked open, but his sight had dimmed under the constant bombardment of the sun. The shadow seemed immensely tall. Soon it was joined by another.
*Death? No, not death. Someone else. What then? Who?*
He could not think. The effort was too great. Instead, he opened his mouth. His lips stuck stubbornly, then parted and cracked. His lips were too dry to bleed. He lay there with his mouth open, drawing dry air in harsh rasps. It was slow to dawn on him that these shadows were not apparitions.
Urgency gripped him. He drew in another breath, but could not speak. His throat would produce no sound. His tongue felt like a dead thing, a hard rock rolling around his mouth. He heard sounds; voices, but they seemed distant to his seared ears.
"--this man?"
"Yes... one-eyed--" "--bastard--grief.--stepped on someone--"
"Do you have--"
"--needs water."
"Not mine!"
This last shot was quite clear. His ears slowly adjusted to the voices. Women. He grinned inwardly for his lips were too parched to stretch. He recognised one as that girl, J'layah. He would get out of this yet.
Twilight stared down at the abused figure pinned to the pebbly ground. A moment later, J'layah was peeking over her shoulder. She gasped. The dark elf turned.
"You know this man?" J'layah nodded dumbly. "Yes. He's the one-eyed man."
Twilight looked back down at the man. Cold hatred and contempt crept into her face. Had J'layah seen it, she would have recoiled.
"So this is the bastard who has given you such grief. It seems he has stepped on someone else's toes as well." There was grim satisfaction in her voice.
J'layah started to kneel by the man, but Twilight grabbed her shoulder. It was clear she wanted J'layah to come no nearer to the one-eyed man, though he be staked and immobile.
J'layah almost felt sorry for the man, but immediately squashed the feeling. This man had kidnapped her sister, threatened to kill her. He had sent her on a suicide mission. He deserved no pity. Yet his condition was horrible and she needed to know where her sister was. She turned to the dark elf.
"Do you have any herbs or potions to heal him? He must be made to speak."
Twilight stared down at the one-eyed man. "If I had any, he would have none. What he needs is water."
J'layah nearly choked. She didn't have much water, having expected to be in Aldingbury, not some forsaken desert of bone in the middle on nowhere. She didn't even think before speaking.
"Not mine!" Twilight almost gave her an annoyed look. "I wouldn't ask that of you. You are not accustomed to travelling great distances, so I wouldn't think you would have much water on you. I will spare some."
J'layah blushed at the rebuke. Twilight reached into her pack and brought out a waterskin. She bent over the man and let fall a trickle into his blackened mouth. She did this a few times, pausing when he began choking or coughing. Still, she didn't give him anymore than to whet his throat.
His first words were: "Untie me."
The two elves stared at him for a moment. The dark elf broke the silence.
"You are in no position to dictate."
"Untie me!" His voice screeched and broke.
Now J'layah was getting angry. She roughly removed her companion's hand from her shoulder and bent over the one-eyed man. She made sure her shadow did not fall on his face and shooed Twilight to the side so her shadow too did not fall on him. This was cruel, but she had had enough.
"Where is my sister?" she hissed.
The man grinned, creating fresh cracks in his lips. "And who might that be?"
J'layah's dagger was instantly at his throat. She pushed the point against his neck until she broke the skin.
"My sister. Where is she? Or so help me--"
The man started a laugh which gave way to a coughing fit. The dagger nicked his throat with every spasm. He recovered himself shortly.
"Go ahead. I have suffered worse than you could ever do! If I die, your sister will too."
Twilight came over and took J'layah's shoulder. Gently, she pulled the elf away. J'layah gave no resistance, but let herself be seated in the pebbly sand. She ignored the intense heat. Twilight brought her waterskin into the man's view.
"Now. Who are you?"
The man leered. "What does it matter?"
"I want to know who I'm about to torture."
He gave a barking laugh. "This is no way to save that girl's sister."
Twilight let fall a drop of water into his mouth.
"Your name."
She held the skin ready, but withheld another drop. He licked his lips, aware of only the waterskin.
"Heeram Thule," he rasped.
Despite the gravity of the situation, J'layah gave a thin smile. After all the pain and worry she had suffered at the hands of this man, he was now at her mercy. She watched Twilight with some interest, but Heeram Thule kept drawing back her eyes. Twilight continued.
"Good. Now, where is J'layah's sister? Where is Ariana?"
Heeram's face twisted. He opened his mouth, silently demanding more water. He was trying to turn the balance of power back to his side. He had played along with this dark elf that first time so he could strengthen his current position. No water, no information. Twilight saw this but remained unruffled. She moved the skin to him, but instead of placing it over his mouth, she held it over his forehead. She let a drop fall. The effect was amazing. He shook his head violently, trying to get the drop to roll down his face. Instead, it rolled into his empty eye socket. He let out a howl.
Twilight asked the question again, and again let a drop strike his forehead. It trickled into his ear. He was driven into a frenzy, cursing her and her parents and theirs until his throat bled. Occasionally, Twilight would let a drop fall on his face, but never his mouth.
"Okay! Okay, I'll tell you. She is in Aldingbury and...and that black fortress." He dissolved into giggles at the look on the elves' faces.
J'layah had given the reigns to Twilight long enough. She burst forward, stuck her mouth next to his ear. "Is she in Aldingbury or the fortress?" She had her dagger tip inside his ear. It seemed to have a more galvanising effect now.
"Both, both. Her body is in Aldingbury--" J'layah almost drove the blade into his brain. "--and her soul is there." he cocked his head as best he could without disturbing the dagger.
"Is that where the man lives who you crossed?" asked Twilight.
"Crossed?" he screeched. "I haven't crossed anyone! He is insane. He wants the ring."
J'layah frowned. "This?"
She brought out Balefire's signet ring. It felt heavy in her hand, far heavier than it should have been.
"I thought you wanted it."
Heeram shook his head. J'layah quickly withdrew it before he cut himself. He tried to speak, but his throat caught. Twilight let a thin trickle from her waterskin splash in his mouth.
"He wants it! I sent you to get it." He jerked his head up and strained against the thick ropes causing flakes of dried blood to float to the ground. "Don't let him have it! Don't give him the satisfaction! Don't let him feed the Heart."
He fell back to the ground, chest heaving. The two elves glanced at each other. Feed the heart?
J'layah started to speak but Twilight cut her off. "What does a ring have to do with a heart? What do you mean 'feed the heart?'"
Heeram stared off into the sun. J'layah thought him dead, but for his moving chest. Twilight grabbed his head and brought it close to hers.
"What do you mean 'feed the heart?'"
The man's eye slowly focused on her. "The Heart is an artefact more powerful than you can imagine. It is the heart of the First One. Its blood is magicka itself. It must not be fed." With great effort, he continued.
"Forget your sister. Leave this place. The ring cannot get near the Heart."
J'layah bristled and shouted in his face. "My sister is more important than any Heart! Do you hear me?"
Twilight laid down his head. He was again staring at the sun. J'layah raised her fists but Twilight grappled her and pulled her away. She struggled hard but vainly. Heeram made no movement.
"I'm going to kill him!" she shouted, but Twilight wouldn't let her go.
Slowly J'layah stopped, and as she looked at Heeram Thule, the man who had taken her sister and haunted her thoughts, she realised that he was dead.
***Tabanallis frowned. "What kind of name is 'Heart's Hold?'" The wizened scribe shrugged. "Possibly for all the blood spilled there. Thoth Durghanti, the Sea of Bone, was the site of possibly the greatest battle ever waged on the plains of Hammerfell. As I understand it, Lord Th'Sollar, a mythical figure, had been slowly gaining ground in a war lasting over a decade. His name appears in various stories near the end of the war, about when the Werre first appear in Hammerfell. Oh, I almost forgot! The people of Hammerfell were rising up against a consortium of mages called the Horned Council."***
At the mention of the Horned Council, Balefire gave an inward start. A term found in several old tomes, and mentioned always with dread. A familiar term, and a baleful one.
***Alduin paused to point at the black bulk of the fortress hunched on the crumpled hills beyond Twilight and J'layah.
"That, my friends, is the Guardian Citadel. I do not know it's native name, but it was the last line of defence for the Horned Council. The Werre gathered all their number to break it, but instead of a few day's fight, a siege developed that stretched into months, marked by constant skirmishes and pitched battles. Summer is harsh there, but winter is harsher. In mid winter, the Citadel was emptied. Instead of being idle, the forces in the Citadel had multiplied, and beasts of pure magic, Denigroth I believe?--"***
"Denigroth!" Balefire thought to himself, his wrath deepening, "Another term from the past, and a dire one."
***Balefire drew in a deep breath. "Now I know how it is familiar. This place is spoken of only in whispers. Werre-Bane."
K'tarin fairly bristled at the name. "Torith au Werre."
Everyone tensed as J'layah and Twilight moved from their field of view in wary crouches, weapons drawn.
"Well, it seems thet there may be somethin' livin' there yet. I think we best be gettin' there quickly. Whatever ken survive among bones ken nay be wholesome."***
His customary urbanity abandoned, the Dark Elf Warmage snarled savagely at his companions, his battlefield demeanour possessing him completely, "Each of you take a hold on a companion, there's no time to waste...I shall teleport us all through to them, and that immediately. Grab hold, I say! There's aught amiss with the Art around that ancient battlefield, but I have power enough to take us all, I swear it by the gods. Look to your weapons, and do not let go your hold until I say so."
Impatiently, he shot his gaze at each of them. Coldly abrupt, he barked, "Ready?"
He bellowed a word of power, there was an actinic instant of disorientation and the sense of enormous power unleashed and flowing, flowing and checked, flooding over and through a half-tangible barrier...for just a heartbeat, as the whole universe seemed to vibrate with the echo of the word, and the implacable force of the will behind it. And then they were on Thoth Durghanti, and the scarred Warmage's countenance was a study in conflicting emotions.
"By the Scales of Akatosh, 'tis no wonder it was so hard to scry here, not to mention teleporting. 'Tis a zone of anti-magic, or I'm a monk! I might have guessed, in a Werre battlefield." His sword rasped out of its sheath, its customary aura dimmed almost to invisibility, and he replaced his staff in its saddle-sheath. Looking around at his companions, he started visibly.
"Mea! Mea is not with us! What has transpired here...?"
Not Quite As Planned.
Well I can tell you I was mighty impressed with that scrying spell, although I must admit it took me a while to figure out that Balefire was looking in to his ale mug to scry, I was under the impression that he was a bit of a drunk, I mean how many guys do you know that get on their horse with a tankard in hand, but alas it all explained it self.
The picture that was painted about the area didn't sound to healthy, but I am a gung ho kind of girl so what the Hell; let's go for it.
While I was thinking this, I got a real bad feeling about the whole thing but never the less I grasped a hand after Balefire started the teleport spell, he uttered a word of power and then…
I found myself floating in err... the realms of somewhere, then everything went black.
When I woke up I couldn't believe how hot it was in my room, but .... I jerked wide awake and wished I hadn't done that, a searing pain shot through my head and I began to realise something was very wrong.
Looking around me, the only thing I could see was emptiness and bones, glaring bleached white bones everywhere, Oh Julianos I thought, what have you done for me now, beginning to understand that I was maybe the only person here within hundreds of miles, well back to business, I said to myself and started to mutter a quick healing spell and ..... nothing happened, have you ever try to light fireworks and then had them go fizzle, nix, nothing happened.
I dug into my pouch for a leaf of akbutege, so at least I get rid of that ruddy headache and started chewing.
Looking around some more I noticed the Citadel in the far, far distance and reasoning that if the rest of our group was anywhere they would be heading there.
So while I was walking ( and I loathe walking ) I tried some more spells, Little Levi, Many Hands, but even these simple spells didn't work, by now, I can tell you I'm a little worried and I let you know that even Elven chain gets pretty hot out here, but when you look at all these bones, well a little discomfort is better than a lot of dying, so I continued left, right, left, 4,5,6 left...
Possessed
***Slowly J'layah stopped, and as she looked at Heeram Thule, the man who had taken her sister and haunted her thoughts, she realised that he was dead.***
J'layah's initial reaction was one of disbelief, followed closely by rage. Using her dagger she slashed the ropes binding Thule, grabbed his corpse by the shoulders and shook him like a rag doll. "No! Curse you! I did not come all the way to this sodding boneyard only to have you die on me, you pox-ridden, maggot-eaten, stinking son-of-a-whore!" Of course, Thule had nothing to say on the matter, and his head lolled limply from side to side with every shake, lending an almost comical air to the situation. The barrage of insults continued; some coarse enough to make a hardened sailor blush. Standing nearby, Twilight regarded the tirade with raised eyebrows. In all her travels she'd seen many a woman become hysterical over the recently departed, but this was by far the worst case of Post Mortem Stress (PMS) she'd ever witnessed.
Presently J'layah calmed down sufficiently to gather her wits, and she let Thule's body fall - none too gently, to the ground. It landed with a "crump" next to his bejewelled leather eye-patch; now cracked and dusty. She couldn't resist a final curse: "May the worms devour your foul flesh and the ravens peck out your eyes......er, eye!" So saying, she leaned over to spit on him when she glimpsed something; a spark perhaps, in the depths of his death-glazed eye. Heart in mouth and gripping her dagger she felt for a pulse: nothing. Thule was most definitely dead. Certain she had imagined the whole thing (this was a *very* strange place after all), J'layah leaned closer and looked again. The spark was still there, flickering like a distant star. Why it had an almost hypnotic quality to it. So....pretty......
Meanwhile, Twilight had noticed the mirage-like shimmer heralding the others' arrival nearby, and she moved swiftly to meet them. Balefire; sword drawn, appeared ready for anything, but he was looking around in alarm. "Mea! Mea is not with us! What has transpired here...?" Indeed, the lovely elf was nowhere to be seen. They conducted a quick but futile search of the surrounding area, before Twilight led the party to Thule's corpse, describing his final, cryptic words as they walked. J'layah had lain him on his back with arms crossed over his chest, replaced his dusty eye patch and was still kneeling over the body, apparently deep in thought. She jumped at Twilight's gentle shoulder tap. "Wha...? Oh, I was just...preparing him for burial. He has certainly suffered aplenty, and is no longer of any threat to us." She looked up at her companions and frowned. "Where is Mea?"
Damn, but the desert was hot. Torgath had been crawling through it for nigh on three weeks now, searching for the great dragon Asmoneas. He had entered the desert with a plan, confident of success. Now, he was lost, thirsty, and tired.
He staggered over the top of a dune, and thought he saw shapes on the horizon. Thinking they were mirages, he almost dismissed them. "Wait a minute," he thought, "I'm don't know any other way to go, I might as well check it out."
As he made his way over, he finally came upon them. His surprise at the presence of people was compounded by the oddness of the sight. There, standing contemplatively over a blackened husk of a man who he presumed was dead, were two women. He stepped forward to address them. "Well," he said, "What brings a couple of women like you out to this end of the desert."
Left, right, 3, 4, 5.
I'll tell you one thing it gets pretty hot in this god forsaken place, and for the umpteenth time I checked my water flask, darn it half empty, last time I checked it was only 1/4 empty, must be the hot dry wind, so before it evaporated entirely, I took another sip.
It is amazing what a bit of water can do for a girl ( Humph a lot of water would be better, for a bath I would gladly kill, but alas thoughts will remain thoughts)however in the far distance to the north east of here I could see a black spot moving ( I fondly remember my mother and her carrot advice) and then the black spot stopped moving, now it is amazing what you think of when you're walking, I all of a sudden remembered my make up mirror ( hey, don't get me wrong, I'm not some sort of loose woman, that you hear about, but you gotta be ready for anything in this game) I dug in to my satchel, extracted the mirror, pointed it at the sun ( I knew where that was ) and redirected the image towards the black spot.
Now I know that you are probably thinking that girl is crazy, it could be anything out there, and you would be right, but lets face it, how many things could be moving around in this place, well it's likely to be my companions.
If its or they are not my friends then there are two possibilities, If it was a great huge gigantic monstrosity of a nasty, well then I could just possibly, possibly die, if however it was not a great huge gigantic monstrosity of a nasty, then it would most definitely get killed by me. So, I walked on signalling as I went. Left, right, flash, 2, 3, 4, flash…