A Stranger We Named Neil

From the view we had at dusk, we could see some scattered homes and a plaza below. Rather than busting in, guns blazing, we decided to try for a little bit of stealth and to check on the villagers to see if they were just as hostile as the other skull-painted warriors we had come across.

As was our custom, so it seemed, I would take the first watch of the night. I sang a lullaby of sorts to my comrades, lulling them into a dreamy slumber as I thought about how far we had come and where we were to go.

Admiral Wickers had finally tuckered out. He was a blustery man—all hot air and bravado. Underneath that, though, was a big teddy bear. I knew he had a soft spot in his heart for me, just as I did for him. Praxis. Tough as nails, Praxis. All of that power in one cute, little body. I fear he think he has too much to prove, and will wind up getting himself really hurt. That’s what I’m here for, though, to protect him whether he thinks he needs protecting or not.

And then there was Varis. He reminded me so much of Amras Galaereion, youngest son of House Galaereion, and my charge for some time. He was a stubborn, bull-headed child, that one. Curious as they come, and completely without conscious. For three years, it was my job to see that he stayed out of trouble, and it was quite the task. The task wasn’t all bad, though, as Amras was generally carefree and lighthearted. When he wasn’t up to his eyeballs in trouble, his always positive demeanor was quite contagious. Varis reminds me of him—utterly reckless and recklessly curious. I often feel like I’m just along for the ride, there to bail him out of whatever trouble he manages to stick his elven nose in.

Lost in thought, I barely noticed the shuffling noises until it was too late. As quietly and quickly as possible, I woke the boys to greet our intruder.

“Hey, how’s it going?” said a disheveled man with a friendly—and not skull-painted—face.

“You speak common? Oh, thank goodness!”  Without pause I ran to the stranger and hugged him. It was so nice to have someone else to talk to. I bid him enter our little shelter as the others shrugged off the sleepies.

I gave the man some rations and tended to a nasty head wound. All he remembered was waking up on a beach with several dead seamen around him. I guessed they had missed their mark, just as we had and ended up marooned on this island. He somehow managed to find our camp, and that was all we knew—and he knew—about him.

He must have hit is head rather hard and lost his memory, the poor soul. He had no recollection of being on a boat, of his home, his purpose, or his name. I introduced him to the rest of my friends and clued him in on what we had discovered since we landed on the small island several days ago. It was quite late when the excitement from our new visitor died down and I was able to go to sleep. Though, my sleep was quite fretful with all the nervous butterflies in my stomach over what tomorrow would bring.

In the morning, we went back and forth on our plan a few hundred times, it seemed. The Admiral had hurt his leg when the vine monster had coiled its vines around it and yanked him off of his feet. It was best he stay in the comfort of our shelter, with a good view of the town below.

So now, with one man down and a new man with an unknown skill-set, we needed a plan more than ever. Do we walk straight into the village’s plaza, or try to gather information by investigating the still-intact dwellings on the outskirts of the settlement?

For what may be the first time, a modicum of caution was chosen over the brazen and brash, head-on approach. I used my far hearing to listen in each small dwelling to see which ones were inhabited and which weren’t. Most were empty, and didn’t yield much information apart from disturbing depictions of sacrifices and demons painted on the walls inside.

After a few hovels with no new information, we decided to venture into a one-room home to try to get some information out of the villagers. They sure weren’t friendly, though. We tried all the nice words that Snake Sister had written down for us, but they still seemed a mixture of scared and angry. They kept pointing toward the plaza and it was clear they wanted us to leave.

We left the house, making sure that the villagers wouldn’t follow us or tell anyone else that we were here. We skirted along the main road, trying to take advantage of what little cover the crumbling structures provided. I don’t imagine we were very quiet, though, because even the dead could hear us. Dead cat-like creatures they were—nothing left but a few scraps of skin over bones. And by the looks of them, they were hungry. Still, I don’t understand how things that are supposed to be dead have such a hunger—particularly for living flesh. And particularly for Varis’s living flesh.

The lack of a good night’s sleep and my own nerves must have gotten the best of me, because I couldn’t land a shot with sword, throwing star, or my wand. Plus, I was curious to see what Neil could do—I decided to give him a name till he could think of his own. Neil looked to be quite confused, which who could blame him, though his confusion seemed catching to the cats. Praxis was doing well against the cats until a flaming ape came out and caught both him and Varis on fire. Fortunately for us, the ape also caught one of the last dead cats on fire. The smell, though, was difficult to stomach. Once Praxis and Varis had killed the last of the undead cats and put out the ape’s fire, there was really no other choice but to continue on into the heart of the village.

Ahead, a shallow pool could be seen, ringed with dead bodies in various stages of decay. There was no way I was getting close to them, because we have seen—time and time again—that the dead don’t stay dead here. The constant pa-tink pa-tink of a robed man with a feathered headdress drew all of our attention, but most of all Varis’s. He was perched in the center of the festering pool, chipping off pieces of a dark stone.

“Go. Leave,” he uttered in a crude common. That was Varis’s cue approach the man. The native became angered and started pulling levers and pulleys within the pool to spew the sluggish water and unleash hidden spikes and nasty things hidden under the teeming surface. Blech.

I was so glad I kept far away from the pool. I could lend a helping hand to my friends without getting in the thick of things. Varis managed to dodge the foul water and traps, and that’s when some of the dead bodies started moving—of course.

Four, clearly dead men were reanimated and began attacking my friends, but one hit easily took each down. The native attempted to heal himself, but Neil dragged him down from his pedestal for Praxis and Varis to take care of him.

I have to admit, this all seemed too easy. Like there must be something we were missing. I know that these people were far from friendly and had been doing their best to kill the nice Coyomi villagers, but I felt like we should have run up against something that would push back a little harder by this time. Maybe, for once, luck was on our side. Hopefully, we could help the Coyomi and would find a way off this island.

Having nowhere else to go, we took the well-worn path between two large, carved pillars depicting—again—more demons and sacrifices and generally more scary, dark things. For the first time since landing on these islands, we were able to follow a clear-cut pathway that cut right into sheer cliffs and mountains. Up ahead loomed the ruins of what can only be described as a stepped temple, flanked by statues of stoic figures twenty feet high.

As we got closer, we saw a fire burning off to the right hand side of the crumbled temple, recently stoked. It was clear this place was still inhabited. Rather than wait to form a plan, Varis ran right out in the open and straight into the ruined remains of the temple. His grunts and cries of pain could be heard soon after.

I rolled my eyes—because this kind of this was so Varis—and cautiously came to his rescue. It wouldn't do him any good if I stumbled into a really sticky situation when I was trying to save his curious butt.

I saw two more of those ugly little creatures; they sure were organized! Before I had a chance to really help Varis out, a winged creature swooped in to claw at me. I hit him right back and the little devil disappeared!

Thankfully, Neil and Praxis came to the scene to help with the fight. Neil helped to confuse the two ugly creatures attacking Varis. Praxis went off to deal with two more ugly creatures who were shooting arrows at our overly-brazen friend. Once we all arrived on scene, our enemies disappeared, either in death or by literally vanishing. Again, we’re left wondering where all the skull-faced warriors were.

We took a little bit of time to search the three crumbling buldings surrounding the temple. In one of the buildings was a trap door that led into a dark tunnel. After a full day of adventure, we weren't prepared to climb down that hole and see what bad guys awaited us down there. That could wait till the morning.

By this time it was dusk, and we were wondering if it was best to make camp here or retreat back to the mountains. Neil, who had been quiet during our discussion, suddenly stood up and declared, "I've got to go, guys. My mom want me back before dark." Before we even had a chance to wrap our heads around what our new friend had said, he vanished in the growing darkness.

Concerned, I ran after him, but it was as if he had vanished into thin air.

~Zaly

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