Respite and Retrospective

There was nothing for it. They had to sleep. Their bodies couldn’t take much more if they didn’t have a true long rest.

If Tarmen and Voah had seen and known what the mould woman had, they may have chosen against their current path, but here they were.

Together they determined they should camp in this space and continue on after. These tunnels seemed to lead up and hopefully out.

Just off the side of the tunnel was an alcove of crumbled stone that had once been an upward stair or ramp but it was obscured with collapsed and broken stone, tucked inside and behind the walls of the tunnel. A thin duct of water had eroded through the cracks from above and created a tiny stream here with bulbous fungus growing along it in small clusters. They were luminescent, but appeared to be the same as the mushrooms The found in the pouches of the mould folk. They cautiously picked some and added it to a separate pocket of one pouch just in case they turned out to be different, possibly poisonous.

This cozy corner would give a little extra time to prepare for an attack and it could only come from one direction.

The thought of dousing the light again was daunting but it had to be done. If they were still being pursued, they couldn’t afford for their position to be given away so freely. Let the mould folk use their eyes of the deep and may Vastad guide Voah’s spear and Tarmen’s machete to blot them out. Voah took first watch.

It was pointless to keep her eyes open but she did so for a while out of habit. Physically she was uninjured, but she had suffered some mental torment in these depths. She learned what it was to be blind… learned a different kind of fear. She learned what it was to question her sanity….

But the Gods were with her she knew. That gave her some consolation. The laceration of her hand was now little more than a memory.

She was tired, dirty and hungry… but she was mostly fine. It reminded her of her trip across the sea. That had been a hard trip for her.

Not just the voyage but she had questioned even hopping on that boat and nearly decided against it. Something nagged at her to go through with it. There were many reasons that it sounded like a good idea sure. She had no family left, no true friends, Arcadia was a ripe fruit. There was opportunity and she would be the first Arbiter across the sea. But it wasn’t her desire to be the first and the best, nor the desire to seek out heretics and sorcery… it was an instinct. She knew now that it was her Silent Gods speaking. She was meant to come to Arcadia. Not to do the work of the Inquisition, but to discover its secrets, maybe expose it, the last part she was still unsure of.

Over the last 9-10 months, the Silent Gods… and perhaps Erewhon, had led her to Blackwolf, Till, Wim, and Hunter. Led her to Diarah, the witch who changed her. They led her to ‘Road To Salvation’. To Sentinel. Tarmen, Alexis, Nicolaus… To the Creed. To Omen. The discovery of the Vaux, the genocide from both magik and faithful alike. The Silent Gods had led her straight to Gonyaul. He was a message and a gift and there was more to learn.

But what of this place? Had she strayed from the path? She lost the sword, everything… would she die down here? That hope inside her told her this was just another discovery, another piece she needed to complete the metamorphosis of whatever she was becoming. The will of the Pillars. Their proxy?