choose your own adventure, episode 5

“I will see the Magistrius Richard first,” you say. “Perhaps his knowledge of magic will lend some insight.”

Ulacht snorts. “Or he’ll drool on your boots.”

Father Linus gives the orcish headman a reproving look. “I am…sure he will be glad to see you, sir knight. Please, follow me.”

Ulacht insists on accompanying you, and after some negotiation, the other orcs return to Rzoldur, and Linus leads you further along the road to the village of Victrix itself. The ground grows hillier as you travel further north, the road cutting back and forth, and at last the village comes into sight.

Or, rather, both Victrix and Rzoldur…and then thing between them.

A steep hill, at least a thousand feet tall, rises out of the forests of the Northerland. A farming village of perhaps five hundred people nestles in a valley at the base of the hill, surrounding a stout square keep, a sturdy church, and the round tower favored by a Magistrius. Upon an outthrust spur of the hill, overlooking the valley, stands a cluster of the domed houses of rusticated stone favored by the orcs – the village of Rzoldur. If the villages are so close to each other, than means the orcs and the humans have coexisted peacefully for some time.

So why turn on each other now?

But the ruin of white stone high upon the hill holds your attention. It looks like a delicate castle of gleaming stone, pale, beautiful…and utterly wrong. The angles of the crumbling towers are odd, and the shape of the arches and windows reflects an alien mind.

It is a ruin of the dark elves.

“You live near that,” you say, “and you wonder why your children have disappeared?”

Linus shrugs. “But it is safe enough, Swordbearer. Men settled here a century ago, and the ruin has been deserted the entire time. We even store cured meats and dried vegetables in the ruin’s cellar during the winter.”

“Your folk are miners?” you say, looking at the stone domes of Rzoldur.

“Aye,” says Ulacht. “There are ores and gemstones in the hills, and many caves as well.”

“Did you ever tunnel far enough to reach the Deeps?” you say. There are thousands of miles of unmapped caverns below the surface of Andomhaim, and unpleasant things dwell down there. If the orcs dug deep enough to awaken one…

Ulacht snorts, the muscles of his scarred face tightened. “And awaken some horror, you mean? We are not so foolish. Ulacht does not let his clan dig so deep. Some things are better left to sleep.”

You walk in silence the rest of the way to the Magistrius’s tower at the edge of Victrix. The Magistri, you understand, prefer to work in towers, since the position of the nine moons can alter certain magical effects. (According to the Holy Scriptures and ancient Roman books, Old Earth had only one moon, which seems like it would be altogether peculiar.) You stride towards the tower’s door, preparing to knock.

Except the door swing opens, and a tall, forbidding old man in a white robe with a black sash steps out. He looks like the very image of a learned Magistrius – stern, wise, and solemn.

“Magistrius Richard,” says Father Linus. “I bring before you Sir Ridmark, son of the Dux Leogrance Arban of Taliand, and a Knight of the Order of the Soulblade.”

“I have come seeking your counsel, Magistrius,” you say.

Richard gives you a grave nod.

“Monkeys!” bellows the Magistrius.

You blink, and Ulacht and Linus share a look.

“Pardon?” you say at last.

“Monkeys!” says Richard, deadly serious. “Do you not see the purple monkey upon your shoulder, Swordbearer?”

You look at your shoulder. “I…fear I cannot.”

“The purple monkeys!” shouts Richard, his eyes growing wider. “There is a purple monkey standing upon your shoulder, wearing a hat with feathered plumes and reciting the uncouth poetry of Ovid while juggling flaming apples with its paws and tail!” He leans forward, and the Magistrius smells…sick. When you were a squire, one of your father’s knights accidentally ate some poisoned berries, and he smelled much the same.

“Yes,” says Ulacht, his voice heavy with disgust. “The monkeys.”

“Do you not see them?” shrieks Richard. “The purple monkeys are everywhere! Plotting their conspiracies, tunneling beneath my tower, and listening to my thoughts! They are scheming against me! They make me hear colors! I know that they’re planning to wage war against the sun and turn my shoes into breadsticks!”

“Has he…always been like this?” you say.

“Not this bad,” says Linus. “I feared he had been growing senile, but he has taken quite a turn for the worse.”

The old Magistrius is likely hallucinating, and suddenly you wonder if he has been poisoned. And if he has, the power of your bond with Heartwarden might let you cure the poison.

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