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HTN 5-43 Open your eyes (Cannon Version)
🕑 Added 2022-01-25 17:05:36 +0000 UTCThe mines were hidden in the slope of a rocky cliff behind some jagged hills. The main tunnel was wide enough to walk ten abreast with a ceiling that soared twice Frank's height. It was framed by wooden posts as if they supported the ceiling, and every so often, a smaller side tunnel branched off. There was a metal track that ran down the center that was rusted as if long abandoned. The sound of dripping water echoed down the tunnels as the group sat in a large round chamber.
“How many times has this happened?” Blackbast asked as Heather slept in the palanquin.
“A couple of times now,” Frank answered as he scratched at his head. “She pushes her power too far, and it catches up to her.”
“She pushes her power too far?” Blackbast repeated and thought back to the fight with the demon. She recalled the blue glow back then, but Heather hadn't collapsed afterward. There were a dozen questions she wanted to ask, but now was not the time. Lydia and her friends were sitting nearby and watching with interest. It was almost certain this was one of Heather's mysteries, and the fewer who knew about them, the better. She could not risk asking a question that might reveal something to the vampire woman that was better left hidden.
“Did you see that woman fall from the sky?” Quinny asked as she came to the palanquin. “I think Hannah teleported with her into the air and let her fall.”
“That is most certainly what she did,” Blackbast growled. “She has a rather creative mind when it comes to using her powers.”
“I don't understand her powers,” Lydia called from the wall. “One minute she is living; the next she's undead. She tosses fire about like a devil but summons plants? On top of that, she can teleport with no limit. So what class is she really?”
“A Lilithu devil,” Frank replied and turned around to confront them. “With flower singer as her primary.”
“None of that explains how she could become undead,” Baron Durmont pointed out. “I am very familiar with the classes that have living and undead forms. I know for a fact that neither of her classes has any access to undeath or necromancy.”
Blackbast growled with frustration as Baron Durmont backed them into a corner. She was about to try and explain that it was a power granted by the collar when Frank spoke up.
“She did it the same way I became human,” Frank replied and fished into a pouch. He pulled out a small white object and held it out.
“You have a figurine of transformation,” Lydia said with wondering eyes. “Where did you get it?”
“I found it a long time ago while plundering a world-generated dungeon,” Frank lied.
“And to think I thought you were a carrion knight,” Baron Durmont said with a shrug. “I suppose I can't be blamed. That figurine gives you practically the same abilities.”
“What’s a carrion knight?” Quinny asked as she came to his side.
Baron Drumont explained that it was much like the werewolf where you had a human form and a ghoul form. The player could only take the ghoul form in the darkness, while inside a graveyard, or on corrupted ground.”
“So you would have a human and ghoul form,” Quinny said as she looked at Frank. “Why didn’t you pick that?”
“Because I wanted to be this,” Frank argued and pulled off his helm. “I happen to like what I am.”
“It suits you,” Lady Dellaquin replied.
“I wasn't trying to say you made a bad choice,” Quinny argued back. “I just thought it would make things easier. If I could have picked a zombie that could change to a human, I would have.”
Breanne drifted down the tunnel in her spectral form to inform that it was now midnight. Legeis was watching the tunnel opening with Umtha to ensure they were not surprised.
“You are sure there is another way out?” Breanne asked as she arrived.
“I built these mines with points,” Lydia replied. “I know for a fact there is another way out on the other side of the mountains.”
“And what dangers are we going to face trying to get through?” Breanne pressed. “I doubt you had time to add us to your allies list.”
“Mostly low-level stuff. Rats, spiders, bats, a few skeletons, and some cave crawlers. There is a chance of encountering a jelly cube, but I have it set to spawn on a lower level. I doubt it has found its way up here.”
“Just in case, I am going to scout down the tunnel,” Breanne insisted and looked at Blackbast. “I will be back in an hour.” Blackbast wished her well, and all remained silent until Breanne was out of sight.
“So, your Hannah has a figuring that makes her undead?” Lydia asked as she gestured to Frank.
“Sort of. It was made by the necromancer kings,” Frank replied as he lied like a champion. “Hannah was given it as a gift by another queen when she learned that Hannah and I were going to be married.”
“Ahh,” Lydia said as it made sense. “Hannah wanted to be able to share in your undeath.”
“I guess,” Frank replied and glanced at Blackbast. “Hers is a little different, though. It isn't really a figurine. It's a magical blue ring.”
“That makes sense,” Baron Durmont replied. “The necromancer kings were experimenting with all sorts of magical items. That must be the source of the healing you spoke of.”
Frank realized he had admitted that Heather could heal him in front of the three. He quickly agreed and said that the ring granted her minor necromancer powers. He even went so far as to suggest that Hannah wanted the ring because her friends were undead. Baron Durmont nodded and readily accepted that it must be a terrible burden to have friends she couldn't heal.
“Then what happened in the battle?” Lady Dellaquin asked. “When I saw her, she was glowing blue like a small star.”
“It’s part of the ring,” Frank replied. “It comes with a kind of curse that knocks her out if she uses too much of her power.”
“A curse?” Lydia asked as she leaned forward. “Why not take it off?”
“She can't,” Blackbast interjected. “The ring was a trap, and the other queen tried to blackmail Heather's mother in exchange for a cure. That is why we are traveling. We have been given a device that points the way to a shrine where cursed items can be nullified.”
“And you were appointed to be her caretaker?” Lydia asked.
“By her mother, Queen Gwen,” Blackbast replied. “The ring can cause Hannah to lose control and attempt to flee to the one who gave it to her. We cannot allow that under any circumstances. It would give Gwen’s rival a terrible bargaining chip. By collaring her, not only can I override the ring's power, but she cannot go far from me.”
“And then you can keep her under control until you find this magical shrine,” Lydia surmised. “How interesting. A noble quest to free a devil from a cursed ring.”
“It’s more so to consider that most of the party is made up of monster players,” Baron Durmont pointed out.
“Well, she is a monster player herself,” Lady Dellaquin added.
Frank wanted to tell them that Heather wasn't a monster player at all, but the lie was set, and her secrets were protected. They asked about the magical door, and Blackbast said it belonged to Legeis. It was a goblin portal back to his lair in a goblin village. He had a remote device in his armor he could use to open the portal and summon goblins to his aid. That seemed to placate them as they waited for the night to pass and hoped the paladins wouldn’t find the mine.
The group began to talk about the lands ahead and what they might find. Lydia was a wealth of information but admitted that much of it was years old. The whole time Heather lay asleep, blissfully unaware of where she was. Webster was tucked into the pillow by her head, watching intently. Blackbast never left her side, and Frank asked Webster if she was dreaming. Webster chirped and turned from side to side to signal the answer was no, which meant she was truly unconscious.
“Do we risk moving on while she is out?” Quinny asked as she looked down the main tunnel.
“I am sure your group can handle anything in here,” Lydia said. “I made this a long time ago for low levels to adventure in.”
“If players can’t settle here, why make them a place to play?” Frank asked.
Lydia sighed and explained that things were not always this way. Before Kevin, she had a small player population and a thriving kingdom. The mine was part of a larger plan, but that all came to an end when Kevin came. They were reset several times, but they always made sure to restore the mine as soon as they could. It used to have a road and a small mining town, but these were removed to help conceal it. Now it acted as an escape route if things went wrong.
“It didn't use to go through the mountain,” Lydia said. “I changed that a reset ago so we couldn’t become trapped.”
“Hannah would be fuming to hear this,” Quinny said. “She hates how monster players are treated.”
“Yes, she does,” Frank agreed. “Maybe we should go on. The sooner we find the shrine, the better.”
“You are going to leave us here to fend for ourselves?” Lydia asked.
“We already rescued you when you didn’t deserve it,” Frank argued. “You can thank Hannah for that. If it were up to me, we would have left you in the castle.”
“Frank,” Quinny said in alarm. “That isn’t like you.”
He sighed and turned away, wandering into the mine as the others watched him go. Quinny looked to Blackbast, who waved her to run after Frank. She nodded and headed after him, wondering what was hurting.
“Hey, big guy,” she said as she reached him. “What’s eating you up?”
Frank walked silently for a moment before looking down at Quinny. She had her featureless mask on, hiding her face from a world that persecuted her kind.
“I hate that we have to hide what we are,” he said.
“Is that why suggesting you should have been the carrion knight upset you?” she asked.
“I guess so,” Frank replied. “I love being a ghoul, and I don't want to change. What good is coming here to play when you can't play what you want?” He turned away and paced the tunnel as his hands flexed in tension. “Now we're lying about everything, so people don't find out what Heather is. We're even fighting other undead in a desperate scrabble to level up and avoid being reset. It's all wrong. It shouldn't be this way.”
“Hey,” Quinny said and came to his side. “We all agree with you, especially Heather.”
“Heather is so nice,” Frank agreed. “Even though they attacked us, she wouldn’t leave them behind.”
“Yeah, Heather is wonderful,” Quinny sighed. “I understand why you like her.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked and turned to look Quinny in the face.
Quinny reached up and took off the featureless mask she wore. She shook out her hair and smiled as her black eyes gazed up at him. “Just what I said. You don’t have to pretend around me. You are sweet on Heather, and everybody knows it.”
“We’re good friends. Just like you and I are,” he insisted.
“Oh?” Quinny said with a smile. “So we’re just good friends?”
“What else would we be?” he asked as she started to laugh. “Why are you laughing at me?”
“Because you are the nicest guy I have ever known, but you really don’t have any experience with girls,” she laughed.
Frank sighed and turned away, dragging his claws in the dirt. He wasn't sure what Quinny was getting at, and trying to figure it out made his head hurt. She was a friend, maybe even more so than Heather. She was undead like he was and shared a lot of his hobbies. They both loved manga, anime, and fantasy games. When Heather slept or worked on a project, he and Quinny often spent time together. It only seemed natural since neither of them needed to sleep, but they were only friends.
“I didn’t mean to bake your brains. I am not exactly very good at this sort of thing either,” Quinny interrupted.
“It’s fine,” Frank replied. “But what were you getting at?”
Quinny shook her head and made him lean over so she could whisper in his ear. He flinched as she spoke, his eyes going wide.
“You honestly think that?” he said.
“You really are blind,” she replied and grabbed his arm. “You practically have a harem going here.”
“I was just being me,” he groaned.
“Yep, classic male protagonist. Clueless and incapable of dealing with all the girls around him,” she teased.
“But I’m a ghoul,” he protested. “You and Heather are so pretty. Why would either of you be interested in me?”
“Oh, so you think I’m pretty,” she said with a wink.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he fumbled and then let out a defeated groan.
“You can't accidentally call a girl pretty,” Quinny protested. “But relax, big guy, I know you and Heather are betrothed and all that. I wouldn't dream of stepping on her toes.”
“I don’t understand how this happened,” Frank grumbled. “I came in here to avoid getting into situations like this.”
“Oh please,” Quinny replied and pulled at his arm. “What you did was come in here and take the role you wanted. You convinced yourself that you were finally free to be who you were, and it turns out people really like who you are.”
“But I am a horrible ghoul,” he reminded.
“Keep telling yourself that,” Quinny countered. “Look. I admit when we first met, I thought you were nice, but your appearance put me off. Over time though, Heather and I started to see the guy inside, and we both really like him. I bet even Breanne has some respect for the kind of guy you are.”
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Frank complained as his shoulders sunk. “I just wanted a friend.”
“Well, now you have lots of them,” Quinny countered. “Heck, you may as well start calling Heather your girlfriend. Or would you prefer fiance?”
“Please don’t remind me,” he groaned and shook his head.
“What?” Quinny said and pulled on his arm again. “Frank, you have nothing to worry about. You have the figurine now, and you saw how she reacted when you used it. She couldn’t take her eyes off you. She practically exploded when we were finally alone in the stables and could ask you what happened.”
“I guess she was confused,” he replied.
“You're the one who's confused,” Quinny said and released his arm. “Listen carefully. I am a girl, and I know exactly how Heather feels. She was put off by your appearance as well, but she got over it a long time ago. I am willing to bet she doesn't even think about it anymore.”
“How can you say that?” he protested.
Quinny stepped closer and pointed a finger in his face as she replied. “I seem to recall a moment where sweet Heather leaned over a table to spoon feed you cake. I hate to break it to you, but if she was able to do that, she doesn’t care what you look like anymore. You would think her perching on your shoulder like a parrot would have been enough to get it through your thick head.”
“She just wanted to talk to me,” he said.
“She wanted to be close to you,” Quinny argued. “Argh! You’re both driving me crazy. You two are destined to be together. If that stupid woman in the crown is right, you have been together all along. I can’t wait until we get back so Gwen can make you two get married. Maybe then you will both be able to admit the truth.”
Frank looked down at her as she glared back with a face locked in a scowl. He didn’t understand how any of this had happened nor what to do about it. As he struggled to think of what to say, a white form drifted down the tunnel as Breanne arrived.
“What are you two doing?” Breanne asked as she returned from scouting.
“Nothing,” Quinny replied with a wink at Frank.
“How is Heather?” the banshee asked as she drew nearer.
“Heather is fine,” Quinny replied. “Oh, you should know Frank and Blackbast cooked up a lie about what Heather was. They had to in order to explain her sudden change into a zombie and Frank letting slip that she could heal him.”
“What did you tell them?” Breanne questioned.
Quinny explained the cover story about the rival queen and her cursed gift. Breanne complimented them on their cleverness and asked what the plan was now. Frank suggested they leave immediately and cover as much ground as they could. Heather could ride in the palanquin until she recovered then could use the bracelet to adjust their course.
Breanne agreed with their plan and told them the path ahead was devoid of monsters. If Lydia was telling the truth, they could take a fork ahead and exit out the other side of the mountains. Frank asked how far she had explored, and Breanne admitted only about an hour's flight. The trip would take much longer, so there was no guarantee it would stay safe.
“You heard what Lydia said. It's all low-level trash,” Quinny said and waved the danger off. “I will summon a pack of zombies to run ahead and deal with anything they find. We should be able to breeze through it and get out no problem.”
“Well then, let's get the others and get moving,” Breanne agreed. “The sooner we are away from here, the better.”
The scent of roses filled the air as she walked down a tunnel of green. The sky above was blue as a sapphire with tiny wisps of clouds. Something about this place seemed familiar as she wound her way through tall hedges that towered overhead. It was a garden of some kind, full of dense shrubs trimmed neatly into walls that formed a maze. White roses grew among the dark leaves in places, creating a lovely environment. She looked around, but there was nothing to see aside from the walls of green and the stone path. The only landmark she could use was what appeared to be an obelisk that rose out of the garden. The face was black stone, but there appeared to be a golden cap at the top. It was so high that it could be seen even from inside the hedge maze. In her heart, this was where she needed to be, the place where it all happened, but she couldn't recall what. All she knew was it was here, and somehow she had to find it.
The path was frequently broken by side passages that wandered off in new directions. She knew that choosing the wrong one would mean being lost, but wasn't she already lost? Her memory failed her as she tried to remember this place and why she was here. It had something to do with the roses, but she was sure they were supposed to be red.
Wandering the path, she began to take turns at random, giving up on trying to remember the way. One path was as good as another, and they all looked the same. Around a corner, she found a sundial on a white marble platform. Something about it screamed from the back of her mind as she studied the dial's face.
“Time is not what time might look,” she whispered as if those words meant something. She had no idea where they had come from but seeing the primitive clock brought them up. There was more to the memory, and she let go of trying to force it and let it happen. “The way she made the king forsook. Into the garden, he took the key and hid it in the prison of eternity.”
“Heather,” a woman’s voice called as if drifting on the wind. “You must find the prison. You must get the key.”
“How do I find the prison?” she called and spun about. “Where is this? Where am I?”
“The door is open, you have only to walk in, but once you go in, you can never come back out.”
“What good will that do me?” she cried.
“You must find a way,” the voice said as it started to fade. “The prison was made to hold you, but we know you will find a way.”
“We who?” Heather called as she turned in circles. “Who are you? Why do you keep talking to me in riddles?”
“Time means nothing to you or us. They didn’t realize that when they brought you here. They didn’t understand that you saw time so differently. You saw through their magic and learned to read what was meant only for them.”
“More riddles,” Heather cried. “I am growing sick of this game. If you can't offer me a solid answer, then I refuse to play.”
“Then you are already inside the prison.”
Heather opened her eyes to see eight little black ones staring back. Webster chirped and tapped at her head with a leg, causing her to flinch.
“Stop that,” she moaned and sat up to discover she was in the palanquin, and it was racing across broken countryside.
“Thank the Heavens you are awake,” Breanne said from the far side of the palanquin. Heather looked up to see her seated at the front, wearing a green gown with long dark hair flowing over her shoulders. The sharp elven features gave her a noble countenance, but even so, Heather could see the worry.
“What happened?” Heather asked as she brushed her hair out of her face. “I remember fighting beams of sunlight.”
“Paladins and at least one high-level priestess,” Breanne corrected. “When they started to outnumber us, you went mad with anger and began to glow blue again. You were a terrifying sight to behold, but all of a sudden, you collapsed.”
“I blacked out again,” Heather realized with a sigh. “How long was I out this time?”
“A little over twelve hours,” Breanne replied.
“It seems like it’s getting shorter,” Heather said and picked up the spider. She set him on her lap and began to pet him while trying to collect her thoughts. “Where are we?”
“Lydia smuggled us out of her land using a mine system she built exactly for this purpose. We're in the foothills on the other side of the mountain range heading in roughly the same direction as before,” Breanne replied.
They discussed immediate matters, and Breanne informed her of the complicated lie used to conceal her skills. Heather was impressed by how clever the lie was and how it explained her strange abilities and their reason for travel. Breanne asked how she felt, and Heather admitted she felt fine. Whatever the cause of the strange blackouts, she always woke up feeling great.
“So, where is Frank?” she asked when the tale was done.
“He is running up front with the others,” Breanne replied with a hint of nervousness.
“Heather looked about the palanquin, but Quinny was nowhere to be found. She couldn't imagine the zombie running with the others, so she asked Breanne where she was.
“She’s talking to Frank,” the elven woman replied. “But please don’t get upset about it.”
“Why would I be upset about it?” Heather laughed and looked down at Webster.
“Well, before we left, Lydia was asking some questions about you. She volunteered a bit of information that I was surprised to hear,” Breanne said.
Heather looked at her, clueless about what that was, so Breanne informed her that Lydia was insistent that Heather had called Frank her boyfriend.
“Oh, that,” Heather said dismissively. “I just said that in the heat of the moment.”
“Well, Frank didn't hear her, and I didn't want to say anything until I spoke to you,” Breanne said.
Heather smiled and assured her it was fine. She and Frank were good friends, and Heather wasn't going to make a big deal out of it.
“I am glad to hear that,” Breanne replied with a smile. “I was worried you would be upset about where Quinny was sitting.”
Heather twitched as her hand froze. The elven woman smiled wider as Heather slowly leaned out of the side door and looked ahead.
“Hey!” she yelled and vanished in a flash of green smoke, dropping poor Webster to the floor.
“It's fine. We're just good friends,” Breanne said mockingly to the spider. Webster chirped back as if to agree, and together they waited for the explosion.
