An alchemist goes in to a bar...

[Grim Jestor]

Due North. They do not deviate, keeping the sun to their left in the morning, and to their right as the day wanes, stopping only in the darkness for sparse meals and much-needed rest. Walking wears on a person, especially when one does not truly understand the reasons for walking, and has no destination clearly in mind other than a general direction. Simon notices Laurana stumble on a small rock as they make ready to stop for the evening, and it suddenly occurs to him that the grasslands where they have been walking have grown increasingly unsteady, littered with fallen stones, as if an ancient ruin had fallen apart over the vast eons and scattered itself here before being covered again by nature's incessant forgetful growth.

But these stones are not ancient, not wind-sculpted, not falling to dust. These ruins are far more recent, but have not been torn violently like the remains of that village... it is as if someone built these ruins, or even as if the stones are growing up out of the earth itself, being born gradually even as the unending grass through which we must walk...

Simon does not even need to look to the North in the deepening dusk to confirm his suspicions; but he does anyway, and wonders silently why he did not notice before. Ahead of them, due North, the stones are stacked now, forming rudimentary columns and even partially-completed archways, as if the further North they walk... the further they move into some kind of enchanted city which is gradually building itself.

There is still no sign of anything living other than the grasslands wildlife which they have been killing for food each evening, along with the sea of waving grass. There is no evidence that anyone or anything has been coming here to work on this place, and yet... Simon thinks he knows what will await them as they go: eventually they will begin to walk on roads, and there will be great houses, maybe even palaces, to their left and right instead of the sun. But everything will be empty, completely devoid of life, and the further they go it will be built higher and more advanced, but still empty. And all roads will lead due North...

[Grim Jestor]

Northward. Simon is from the North, far away and in another life, and yet even as they walk he feels further and further away from the place of his birth, for it was a place of life, not cold and silent stones. Here and there a lone tree struggles amid the still mighty grasslands, but standing stones now dot the expanse of plant life more often, and they find themselves having to tread more carefully... Simon has yet to see his silent city of the dead, as he has come to think of it, but all signs point in that direction, although he cannot say even to himself what makes him think in such a way. Maybe only simple paranoia, or maybe I have been here before... The thoughts stroll lazily through his mind, and he lets them go where they will, for he has nothing else to do as they walk due North.

They come upon the first Druid's Circle as the sun is falling slowly to their left, and Simon again is struck by the thought that he must have been in this place some long-ago time, maybe only in his dreams, but in dreams men walk far. Great monolithic boulders have been piled in a seemingly random pattern by unknown hands, and although the grass grows wild here as well as everywhere else, the great ring of giant rocks and their central altar appear new, un-cracked and unworn, as if taken from the tops of mountains only days ago. There is no sign of the builders, nothing to show that anyone has ever worshiped in this place or made terrible sacrifices to the Great Old Ones, except for the fresh blood splattered all over the altar. The altar is literally painted in dark red blood, as if there truly had been a great sacrifice only minutes or hours ago, with the robed priests carrying their dead victim away to hidden caves to do unspeakable things with the exsanguinated body as soon as they heard the travelers approaching...

The wind picks up, waving the ever-present grass around the place where Simon and Laurana stand, their eyes wide from the shock of what they see before them. Has there been another slaughter? Are we going crazy? Or walking in a terrible dream, unable to awaken? Neither of them dares speak these questions, for each knows that the answers are not here, in front of a bloody altar in a weirdly-new ring of standing stones. Each knows that the answers lie to the North, and in this knowledge they walk on without a word, out of the stone circle, due North.

Never looking back, neither notices that the blood upon the druidic altar is gradually disappearing, as if the rock which composes the altar is drinking...

[Grim Jestor]

Have you ever stopped to question why the shadows want us to go North? The Other has not spoken in quite some time, long enough so Simon is almost convinced--and had almost hoped-- that it was left on the other side of... of whatever brought them to this place. But now, now it is speaking, silent in his mind but shouting thoughts that he should have considered before starting out on this strange quest. Why are we going North? To avenge the deaths of some villagers who may have never existed at all? Have you ever seen a living person in this place, or are you being... manipulated? Remember, these psychic shadows were the ones who brought us here, so they must have some other powers as well...

Simon stops in his tracks, stunned by the realization that he may have been manipulated, even as the wind picks up a little bit, seeming to carry upon it the cries of dead mothers and infants, of mourning fathers and lost sons. Laurana stops too, slightly ahead of him, where she had been walking lost in her own thoughts for quite some time. Ever since the altar, they have not spoken much, both somehow convinced even more that there is some great wrong which must be made right, convinced after seeing another sign of terrible murder and destruction... Simon, finally awakened from his self-righteous anger against some unknown enemy, asks her the question which has only recently been asked of him. "Why are we going North?"

She looks at him as if he were crazy before finally realizing that he is truly serious. The rocks themselves seem to lean in closer to hear her answer... but whether they are moving or not would depend on one's point of view. From where they are standing, the rocks and small stone piles really do seem to be inching closer, ready to rush in and smash them if Laurana makes the wrong reply, or if they decide to turn in the wrong direction...

[Grim Jestor]

Simon freezes, looking on in abject horror as Laurana hurls her challenges into the face of the night, watching as the rocks begin to violently tremble. This is not what he intended, not at all, but the Other in his head cackles with glee. Where did you find this one, Simon? She picks a fight with the earth itself, and the rocks of the ground answer... they will answer with fire.

Simon does not know what the Other means, does not understand the riddles, until the very trembling rocks which Laurana addressed shoot straight up into the night sky, suspended upon a terrible cataclysm of molten rock; they stand upon the cusp of a new volcano, and he is certain that it is no accident.

"Run! For your life and the lives of those you would avenge: Run!" Simon does not even need to speak, for Laurana is already sprinting away from the scene of terrible destruction which chases them, great cracks and shaking in the ground, sulfur gas and dust clouds chasing them as they go. Simon is only slightly behind her, and he can feel his neck-hair melting in the fierce heat, knows that he will wake up with a vicious sunburn if he survives this at all, and laughs along with the Other in his mind as he realizes that they are running...

...Due North.

[Grim Jestor]

Simon catches her glance out of the corner of his eye, and can guess what she is thinking. Turning his head, and shouting to make himself heard, he protests, "A river of water will become a river of molten rock, and there we will be swimming in fire!..." But even as he speaks, a rock which surely was not there before pokes up out of the smoking grass to trip Simon, and it catches his left foot perfectly. At this pace, he cannot land properly, and hits the ground hard on his hip.

The fire behind and the roaring in the sky gives him plenty of incentive to get up quickly, but when he does he is not running as quickly. Every few steps, Simon takes something like a limping hop, as if running hurts, and gradually grows slower, falling behind Laurana more and more. She does not seem to notice, running herself in terror of the volcano, and finally he stops, unable to go any further.

Laurana continues on, heedless of his trouble. The sky above is black with ash, the new volcano so close behind them rising in a great earthquake of rocks and fire and terrible roaring, and finally the river, very near now, begins to look inviting to Simon as well... Maybe the current will be swift enough to carry us out of harm's way...

Up ahead, Laurana has finally noticed that he is not there, and turns to see him slowly get up and head for the river...