The Silver Sphinx

 

“Aw, it's just a dumb animal.”

the last words of more than one leatherhead on the Beastlands

 

 

Third Market Day of Decadre, 126 HR

Morânia stepped through the portal and found herself in a dense deciduous forest. She squinted. After the darkness of the ruins of Arendur, even the subdued light seeping through the leaves here was dazzling. Warm and golden, the sunlight fell between the wide-spreading crowns of the trees onto ferns and soft moss, casting pillars of light between the trunks. There was rustling and chirping everywhere, and somewhere nearby the deep, contented sound of a large animal. A flock of small, colorfully feathered birds fluttered from one branch to the next, while a couple of deer that had been grazing nearby leaped away in fright. Morânia stopped and took a deep breath. The air smelled of damp earth, leaves and blossoms. Something inside her immediately felt lighter. This was not a place where the world had been swallowed by the sea or lay in ruins. Here, everything seemed to be alive. Even the trees appeared to be moving in the gentle breeze because they wanted to, and not merely because the wind was forcing them to. Sgillin and Kiyoshi had passed through the portal ahead of Morânia; now Lereia, Jana and Naghûl followed behind her before it closed. For a moment, no one said a word. After everything they had been through, the sight of the friendly forest seemed almost unreal.

Just a few moments ago, they had been standing in the ruins of Arendur, deep underwater and surrounded by the remnants of a world whose scale and history they could scarcely comprehend. Lereia, still in tiger form, had explained to them how to release the air from the apparatus of the crab and showed them the switch to deactivate it. With soft clicking and clattering, the apparatus had folded back into itself. The thin walls had retracted like fan blades on all sides, and poles had slid into one another until, finally, only a small box had remained. Afterwards, Sgillin had taken out the unfolding portal that Krystall had entrusted to him. The key had been a small reverse-threaded screw, which the leader of his cell had also given him. Then the half-elf had unfolded the device until the thin metal parts had formed a rectangular frame. And now they were standing here. In Krigala, Selera's Empire, the Realm of Eternal Day. Morânia looked up at the golden light streaming through the treetops and smiled. After the cold, dark ruins of Arendur, this forest felt like a gift.

Lereia seemed to be enjoying the surroundings the most. The white tigress had walked a few steps ahead and was lifting her head into the warm breeze, her ears twitching attentively. Then she sat down among the ferns and let her gaze wander through the forest. Her long tail moved slowly back and forth. “I could stay here for a while,” she said.

Morânia smiled. “I can imagine that. As long as you don’t decide to say goodbye to us and live here forever.”

Lereia let out a soft, deep purr. “Don’t worry, I’ll return to Sigil with you. But a certain temptation is there.”

The others, too, looked around contentedly. Naghûl stretched his arms above his head and took a deep breath, while Sgillin eyed the surroundings watchfully, always the group’s scout. Kiyoshi, on the other hand, almost automatically placed his hand on the hilt of Hope.

Jana lingered a little behind, gazing at the trees, the sky and the animals moving among the trunks in the distance. “I can feel it again,” she said.

Morânia looked at her. “The magic?”

The sorceress nodded. Carefully, she raised a hand and concentrated. A barely perceptible shimmer rippled through the air, and for a brief moment, a few sparks flared around her fingers. “Yes. It’s back.”

Naghûl grinned. “That’s probably the best news of the day.”

“For me, it’s the fact that I can breathe fresh air again,” said Sgillin. “Although I have to admit I’ll miss that crab a little.”

Morânia smiled. She, too, could feel her access to the Morninglord’s sacred magic returning to her. She placed a hand on her sun symbol and concentrated. A familiar sensation responded, warm and bright, leaving no doubt that her divine powers were accessible once more. But as she lowered her hand, she noticed something else. She looked at her left forearm, where the sleeve had slipped back slightly. The symbols that had gradually appeared there during their journey through the ruins had vanished. All but one.

“Wait a minute.” As the others turned to look at her, she showed them her arm. “Look, fifteen of the sixteen symbols have disappeared. I only have one left.”

Sgillin frowned in surprise and immediately checked his own arm. “That’s true.” He nodded. “Same for me.”

Naghûl also looked at his arm and raised his eyebrows. “I only have one left, too.” He compared his mark to those of Morânia and Sgillin. “But it’s not the same one.”

“That’s right,” Jana confirmed. “I have a different one, too.”

Kiyoshi, who had first had to unfasten his vambrace, showed the others his arm. Only one mark had remained on his skin as well, also different from the others. Lereia stood up and walked over to them. They assumed that, as before, they wouldn’t be able to see anything because of the tigress’ fur, but this time it was different. On her left front leg, just above the paw, a symbol formed of black hairs stood out clearly against the white fur.

Morânia crouched down next to Lereia and examined it. “That’s yet another one,” she observed.

For a few seconds, no one said a word. Six Chosen, six symbols. But still no clue as to why or exactly how they had received them. They apparently represented the Vārya, as the Guardian Dragon had called the Chosen. Beyond that, however, they remained a mystery.

“Did leaving the ruins take the others away from us?” Sgillin wondered.

“Maybe,” Jana said. “But I have a feeling the remaining symbols are something that belonged to us a long time ago.”

Kiyoshi looked around. “The question is, why did we get them back?”

“We’ll definitely figure that out,” Morânia replied. “But probably not here and now.”

The others nodded, and without saying a word, they decided to postpone that question for another time. For the moment, it was enough for all of them to have left the Spire behind. They were in a place where magic was accessible and where the world wasn’t made up of darkness, water and ancient ruins. Only now did Morânia remember why they had stepped through the unfolding portal in the first place. The Memory Stone. It had drawn them there, and it pointed the way to the sword Memory. Morânia clenched her fingers more tightly around the gray orb and focused on the sword. Almost instantly, she felt a gentle pull. It wasn’t like the tug of a leash, nor was it a force physically pushing her in a certain direction. Rather, a certainty arose within her about where she needed to go.

Morânia slowly turned around in a circle to determine where the pull was strongest. Then she pointed between two mighty beech trees. “The stone is leading us in this direction,” she said.

The others nodded, and so they set off again. Fortunately, the pleasant deciduous forest was relatively open, making it easy to traverse. There was hardly any dense underbrush among the tall trees, and small clearings opened up here and there. Hundreds of wildflowers grew in the grass, while other blossoms hung from the branches on long tendrils. Some only opened when someone walked beneath them. At one point, a fox with silvery fur ran alongside them for a while, glancing curiously in their direction. However, it always kept its distance and eventually disappeared back among the trees, as if it had decided that while they weren’t dangerous, they weren’t interesting enough to keep watching. Lereia was clearly enjoying the walk. As a tigress, she moved almost silently through the grass and stopped again and again to take in the scents of the forest. Her white fur glowed almost silvery in the slant shafts of sunlight. Soon they came upon a small stream whose water was so clear that Morânia could see the shimmering fish at the bottom. One of them seemed to be scrutinizing the strange travelers intently before disappearing under an overhanging rock. The bal’aasi nodded to herself. Possibly an awakened animal or a petitioner in animal form. Both were plentiful in the Beastlands. On the other side of the stream sat a small monkey wearing a far too big hat. It was watching the group warily. When Naghûl waved friendly, the monkey pulled the hat lower over its face and pretended not to have seen him.

“I think it doesn't like us,” said the tiefling, a little disappointed.

“Maybe it just doesn’t like your perfume,” Sgillin teased him.

Naghûl frowned. “I haven’t worn any perfume since we left Sigil.”

“Well.” The half-elf grinned. “Then I guess it must be something personal.”

Morânia had to laugh, and for a moment their journey almost felt like a relaxed, harmless outing. The farther they walked, the stronger became the impression that the forest itself was keeping them company. Animals appeared and disappeared without running away from them. Once they spotted a pack of wolf-like creatures, several of which had antlers between their ears. Another time, in a clearing, they discovered several large cats with red-and-black-spotted fur that were almost as big as horses. They raised their heads only briefly as the group passed by, fixing their gaze especially on Lereia. The tigress hissed softly, but it seemed more like a greeting than a warning. The big cats then rested their heads on their front paws again and left them alone. And over it all shone the eternal light of Krigala, which the sun Selera sent down steadily and without any nightly interruption onto this layer of the Beastlands. There was no morning and no evening here, no shadows that grew longer with time, no sky preparing for night. For some reason, the multiverse had decided that this part of the planes should never grow dark. The Memory Stone led them onward. Sometimes, when the diversity and beauty of Krigala distracted Morânia too much, the pull grew weaker, so that she had to stop and focus more intently on the sword Memory. Then she immediately felt the pull more clearly again. Then the forest floor became drier, and rocks were appearing more and more frequently between the roots. On one of them, someone had painted a face with red paint that looked like a laughing bear. Beneath it, in scrawled letters, it read: I was here.

Sgillin raised his eyebrows. “Very informative.”

Kiyoshi examined the image and the inscription with great seriousness. “Maybe it is. Just not for us.”

“One point for you,” the half-elf replied. “Then let’s just leave this work of art alone.”

The others nodded in agreement, and they continued on. The Memory Stone guided them through the forest for a while longer, but eventually Morânia noticed that her steps were growing heavier. At first, the vibrant surroundings of Krigala had almost made her forget her exhaustion, but now it was returning with every step she took. Her legs felt tired, her shoulders ached and even the pleasant warmth of the eternal day couldn’t belie the fact that a long and arduous journey lay behind them. The others were evidently feeling the same way. Sgillin spoke very little now, Jana’s steps were sluggish and Kiyoshi was walking more slowly too. Even Naghûl had stopped making excited comments about every other rock along the path. Lereia was still traveling in tiger form, but even she was placing her paws more cautiously by now.

“Maybe we should take a break soon,” Morânia said. “We’re all pretty exhausted.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Sgillin replied. “And if possible, somewhere where neither newt warriors nor sharks nor the Illuminated are lying in wait for us.”

The bal’aasi smiled. “I’m sure we can arrange that here.”

As if the plane itself had been eavesdropping on them, a thin wisp of smoke rose from among the trees a short while later.

Sgillin stopped and raised his hand. “There’s someone up ahead.”

They continued cautiously and finally reached a small clearing. There stood a tiny hut, barely larger than a shed, built from twigs, branches and densely interwoven leaves. It blended so well into its surroundings that Morânia almost overlooked it. A fire was burning in front of the hut, and a large badger was sitting beside it. He had the sturdy, stocky build typical of his kind, but was significantly larger than an ordinary badger and wore a simple tunic. He sat comfortably on a log, holding a wooden spoon in his front paw, which he used to stir a cast-iron pot hanging over the fire. When he noticed the group, he lowered the spoon and stared at them warily.

 

 

“Uh … good day,” Sgillin greeted him politely.

The badger straightened up a little. “Selera's blessing.”

A talking badger wasn’t unusual in the Beastlands, and since he seemed more cautious than aggressive, they slowly stepped closer.

Sgillin raised both hands. “We mean you no harm. We’re just passing through, so to speak.”

The badger eyed them for another moment, then the tension seemed to leave his body. “Phew, thank Brandobaris! And don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like you could use some rest. All right, go ahead and sit down by my fire.”

Naghûl let his shoulders drop in relief. “A rest, oh yes. Sleep. Food. Recharge our strength.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

They took their seats one after another around the fire pit, Jana and Kiyoshi a bit more hesitantly than Sgillin, Naghûl, Lereia and Morânia.

The tigress sank down into the grass next to the bal’aasi and purred softly. “Thank you so much, you’re very kind.”

The badger waved it off. “Oh, don’t mention it. I’ll see what else I have to eat.”

While he rummaged through a few bags and clay jugs next to the fire pit, Morânia looked around the clearing. Only now did she notice that the little hut wasn’t meant for living in at all. It merely covered an opening in the ground that was barely wide enough for a human and from which a few steps led down.

“Is that … your house?” Jana asked.

“My den,” the badger replied, without interrupting his search for food.

Morânia nodded. Beneath the tiny leaf hut, there was indeed a living space hidden away, one that had been dug into the earth. From her place at the fire, she could make out part of the low entrance area and spotted a small wooden bench and shelves that were apparently built into the earth walls.

“Actually, it’s pretty cozy,” Naghûl said with a smile.

“It sure is.” The badger nodded proudly, then his gaze wandered to Lereia, whose tail moved lazily through the grass while she kept her eyes half-closed and purred contentedly. “Awakened?”

“Weretigress,” Lereia replied.

“Ah.” The badger nodded, clearly pleased with the information. Then he pointed to himself. “Halfling and werebadger.” He sat back down by the fire. “By the way, I’m Roscoe.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Roscoe,” the tigress replied kindly. “My name is Lereia.”

The others introduced themselves as well, and Roscoe added a few more ingredients to the pot over the fire. A pleasant scent of roots, herbs and smoked meat wafted across the clearing.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” the werebadger asked politely.

“That’s right, honorable Roscoe-san,” Kiyoshi confirmed. “We’re from Sigil.”

Roscoe nodded. “I thought so. Don’t ask why, there’s just something about you.”

He took the pot off the fire and began ladling the contents into some wooden bowls. It wasn’t a special or fancy meal, but a simple stew made of roots, mushrooms and a few pieces of dried meat. Roscoe also handed them a handful of berries. But after everything they had been through, the meal seemed like a feast to them.

When Morânia took her first spoonful of the stew, she felt the tension in her body slowly melt away. She closed her eyes briefly. “This is delicious,” she said. “Thank you.”

Roscoe seemed genuinely pleased, and they ate in silence, while the eternal light filtered through the treetops above them. Morânia enjoyed not having to do anything, at least for the moment. They didn’t have to pry secrets from sunken ruins, sneak around a group of Illuminated or fear running out of air to breathe. Only the fire crackled, birds sang in the trees and Lereia purred so contentedly that Morânia began to feel sleepy.

But then something seemed to spring to Sgillin's mind, for he set his bowl down. “Oh, right. Did I mention that the portal is now spent?”

Lereia lifted her head. “You did.”

“Luckily, it is,” Morânia noted. “Because it’s in the ruins now. At least that way, no one can follow us.”

“Very good,” Sgillin replied, relieved. “I was hoping everything would work out. I’ve never used one of these before.”

“Neither have I,” Morânia admitted. “They are really rare. Very practical, of course, because of their mobility. But they stay right where you walk through them, just like any portal.”

Roscoe looked from one to the other. “I assume you have a story about how you got here.”

“A pretty long one,” Naghûl replied with a smile. “And we can’t tell you everything. Secret mission and all that. But we can probably share a few exciting anecdotes.”

 

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played August 14, 2013

The unfolding portal is an item from the game Planescape: Torment.