No matter where he traveled today, Soren somehow ended up back at the temple in Seven Rivers, or just outside the ferry over to The Sick. A grim shadow hung over him by the third trip between them, and with nothing at the temple, he had finally resigned himself to checking out the ferry.
An hour later, Soren found himself setting foot on the cursed swampland of Seven Rivers, alone, and grumbling to himself. If the Trickster wanted to lead him along, he may as well see what would happen. It'd be his own cursed luck if he died here. Step after step, he trudged forward, boots sinking in slick muck and lifting out again with a wet pop all the while stalked by silence. This continued until, exhausted, his boots found stable dirt. He wanted to collapse on the ground right then and there, tired from the slow struggle to get this far. An easy death. Unfortunately, curiosity got the better of him. Wherever the Emperor was leading him, he was determined to see it through to the end...
Another hour or so passed. It was hard to tell by just the position of the sun, but it had to be about mid day, but the true marker was the old stone building he came across. Having come into this part of the region several times now, he usually knew when a building was safe and when it wasn't, but this one was questionable. The stone steps were peeking up from the earth and the door had turned dark from moisture. Assuming what he sought was inside, Soren made a test of the structure. His leg came around at full force as he kicked the door in, wood splintered away, long since having given up on supporting anything. Nothing fell. Not stones stirred, just the crash and rain of what could barely be called wooden bits.
Not even dust stirred, held down by moisture, and the cobwebs that danced as he passed only gave the slightest of efforts before returning to rest. The building was once a townhouse, probably the home to a local leader or a well off farmer. No stairs or second floor existed, but a frail ladder to a loft suggested some storage. There were several rooms, but not one had a sign of what may have lived there in the past. A turned over chair, an empty barrel, a table. Everything had to have been carefully packed up to leave so little behind, or the place had already been cleared out several times by thieves. Why had the Emperor brought him to this place?
He paused before a window to look outside. Was I even supposed to come in here? Golden eyes peered back at him from the reeds. A black snout and a whirl of fur as it bolted into the woods. Black Jaw? Did the legendary grim wolf truly exist?
Growls filled the air. Multiple, and Soren flinched as he realized what had happened. The wolves of the swamp had followed him inside and were hungry. Turning, looking for an out, he realized the room he was in had little to offer. A single bookshelf, a couple of windows, and only one doorway. Closed windows offered a bit of protection as he decided to act, pushing the bookcase to the doorway. It proved harder than expected, not budging despite his every effort. Claws scratched the floor as he counted at least three wolves in the room nearby. He had to block the doorway. He shoulder checked the door as he heard a howl from across the house. Nothing. Move! Move Damn you! He bit his tongue trying to not yell aloud. Now he tried to rip the shelf from the wall, desperate for some kind of cover.
Crack! Crick... Crcik... CRACK!
The shelves began to tip over almost in slow motion as once more he could rely on the rotten wood. Adrenaline pumped through his veins and as the first snout poked its way into the doorway to check the noise... YELP! A whine and a cry as the wolf's nose was clipped with the shelf as Soren slammed it into place. It wouldn't last, but it would by him time. Heart racing he looked around again, eyes resting on a small alcove that hadn't existed before. A growl sounded from the edge of his hearing, but Soren focused instead on the small indent. A shelf, and a box. Small, metal, rusted. A banner hung behind it, a black flag with a white paw that looked like it would fray the second he touched it. "A Melite safe house," he wondered aloud as he reached out for the box. Nothing appeared trapped as he grabbed the lock and twisted. Rusted through, it broke into smaller pieces that clattered to the ground as he opened the box.
A vision of the Sennex glaring him came to mind. He didn't know over what. That list was too long. Instead, it was her letter that re recalled as he reached into the box and withdrew a silver signet ring. Now he had to get out of here. Happy Solstice indeed... |