Making Sense of the Mystic

Red spread across my vision, my body became weightless.

Darkness took me and it felt like I was floating in limbo. Some force was trying to pull me onward, but the sound of several voices were calling me back. They grew in number and volume. Return, remain, never leave.

Each passing moment was stretched and warped, and the void around me began to feel heavy.

With a sound of rushing winds, the tempo of voices increased and I felt myself physically dragged back, and slammed back down into the earth. I had a body again, hands, face, eyes. When I opened mine, my vision was blurred, and my hearing muted. The objects around me soon slipped into focus... the crane, the water wheel, the bind stone, I was standing back in Sandbrook. And there was Piratejim standing before me. Sound returned, he was calling my name...



"Signus! Are you with us again, mate?" He was looking at me with concern, but I could tell that he himself was not feeling too steady. He was swaying, stripped to the waist and covered in blood, though I could see no wounds on him.

"What just happened? Did we get hit by some sort of teleporting spell? Wait, where's all our stuff?" For once Redham had no answers, but someone else was willing to supply one.

"You've both just experienced your first death," a voice said very matter of factly. A tall bearded old man wearing robes stepped forward from his overhang near the bind stone. "For those unfamiliar with how things work on Agon, it can be a bit shocking during the initial experience."

I was not buying the answer. "I'm sorry... but I don't think I heard you correctly. You're saying I just got killed? I don't feel dead." I whispered a joke about senile old folks to Redham.

"Uh, Signus, this is the local Councillor. He's the elder of Sandbrook. I'm surprised you haven't met him already. If he says we died, well then... somehow, we must have." Redham looked over at the Councillor and smiled apologetically.

The old man cleared his throat and continued, "Allow me to explain. Here on Agon, each warrior that swears himself in service here has his soul bound to the land at focus points, like this bind stone. When you are slain in battle, your soul returns here, and you are in a way, reborn." I raised an eyebrow, but the man continued. "It was originally a... ah... technology of sorts, developed by the Mirdain to try to hold back the Alfar. But alas, as war tends to go, it was quickly leaked to everyone else. Now we are fighting in a perpetual purgatory." He shook his head sadly. "People still age, and there are other ways to remove someone from the world for good, but it is not so simple as it once was. But there are limits. Only warriors are allowed to bind themselves here."

I gazed at the stone with suspicion. "That sounds like a very convoluted system. Why hasn't it been improved upon, or spread further?"

Piratejim raised his hand "Ah, I may be able to help with that. I can't speak for other bindstones, but this'n here looks like it was slapped together by the Chaldeans. Many of their secrets were lost when the Alfar broke their Empire. Perhaps no one else knows how to work it?" He looked over at the Councillor who gave an affirming nod.

"Yeah, I'm not buying this, at all. It was a teleport spell, wasn't it?" The old man grumbled and tugged his beard.

"Believe whatever you want, believe a flying hivekin the size of a dragon beamed you here for all I care. But you will keep coming back to this spot, so don't squander the gift." And with that the Councillor began to walk back to his little wooden shed by the road.

Piratejim put his hand on my shoulder and started leading me off to the vault to get some replacement gear. "Come on, let's get back out there. I've got a friend who wants some seasoned fighters to help him reclaim something from a band of centaurs. Perhaps we needed that loss, we were getting pretty full of ourselves..."

I just shrugged and continued on, trying to ignore the fact that my perception of reality had just been entirely shifted. Redham seemed to be accomplishing that with ease. Maybe some centaur hunting is exactly what I needed...

Catching Up

In the time since my first adventure, I had grown considerably more experienced in combat. Redham became a constant companion. Occasionally other adventurers joined us in our outings, but few stuck around.

I got a feel for this new land of Mercia. There were many settlements, but the main gathering points for all us conscripted fighters were Sandbrook, Monkfield, and The Heart of Eanna. They were small frontier towns, hastily set up with wooden walls, with inhabitants striving to keep the nasties at bay. In the middle of them all rose the great capital Fortress of the Human race on Agon, Sanguine.





I met many strangers there, including some of the other races who were allied with the Humans. There are the lithe dexterous Mirdain. They seem to mostly prefer to live in the woods, hunting with bows and worshiping their peculiar gods. I even heard rumor that those elven gods were in some way responsible for the creation of the hated Alfar. I dare not bring it up with the elves themselves, but I never entirely trusted them after hearing it.



Then there are the dwarves. Not many of them are seen outside their lands in the far north. They labor with a constant fervor, always building, according to a writ handed down by their own deity. Some do cast aside the dwarven lifestyle and seek out adventures, and they are hardy fighters.



Redham had taken up armor smithing, and I had taken up the study of magic. We were already both accomplished fighters, and needed something to do in our down time. Our wealth was growing steadily with our conquests against the nearby beasts. We hunted goblins, rebels, fire salamanders, lizard men, trolls, and even those undead that I once feared so greatly. They proved to be weaker even than the goblins! I admit now, I was getting quite big headed, envisioning myself signing up to a professional army soon, and Piratejim was lost in fantasies of being able to buy his boat. We began to laugh at both pain and danger. Redham did so quite literally. I still don't know if he's fully sane.



In full war kit, swaggering as we went, we set out from Sandbrook to some new location. Piratejim assured me that it was a place of great wealth, and that he was able to handle it by himself. "With the two of us, we might even make enough for me to buy a raft!"

We set out North West from Monkfield and crossed a river. A small mountain stood before us, and we had to do quite a bit of climbing. Finally at the summit, I looked down upon a derelict village built over the water, with an extensive bridge system. We had arrived in Darkmoore.





We climbed higher still, but to me all the buildings seemed abandoned. I voiced my concern to Redham, but he simply put a finger to his lips and motioned onward. I had learned to trust in his instinct by now. There at last over the next rise, were men and women in dark robes. They were chanting amongst themselves, performing dark rituals. I could feel some of the power surging from the area. 'Pah' I thought, 'they aren't even wearing armor. We've dealt with mages before.'

"Be careful with these, they're nastier than goblin shamans. Don't be afraid to take cover when you need to." Redham uttered these instructions while drawing his bow. I gritted my teeth and ran in with a warcry, holding my shield before me, and a freshly crafted swordaxe over my head.

A hooded mage spun around, leveled his staff at me, and all before me was set aflame. The heat was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. The air became heavy, burning my throat, and my armor became like a sweltering prison. Another blast knocked me off my feet. I tumbled behind a box and pulled a potion from my bag, drinking it eagerly. The heat and pain ebbed, but I was locked down by heavy fire. It was my goblin mistake all over again.

The steady twang of Redham's bow suddenly stopped and was replaced by his screams. "MY EYES! EVERYTHING IS WHITE! SIGNUS?!" I looked over to see him clawing at his helm, a woman in a black cowl standing over him cackling. I set aside my swordaxe and took a staff out, sending a ray of healing at Redham. He shook himself and then thrust his sword into the woman before him.

We fought on for a while longer, and each mage we felled carried a bag of rich with magical reagents and gold. But soon more and more acolytes began to run down at us from hidden higher levels. My supply of potions was running low, and I was scorched and battered. Redham wasn't in much better shape. "Come on Sig, we can drive them off!" He shouted to me. Steeling myself for one final rush I charged up the ramp at a cluster of them. Flames consumed my vision... I saw no more.