Cold feet

Her image haunts me still. It was the first time I had seen someone die. No one should watch another person die. The memory seemed too much to bear. As I continued to write in this journal I realized that I would eventually have to relate it here.

During our trip from Dame Gold's home back to Verbobonc, I threw this journal away. I dropped it in a river, hoping it would disappear forever. Many days later, after reaching Verbobonc, I found it again in my pack. I tried burying it, but again I found it in my pack a few days later. I tried selling it, but no one would buy it. "Already writing in it, boy," one elderly merchant said. "Journal that already got written in ain't much good to anyone." I tried giving it away, but no one would have it. They wouldn't even look at it.

Finally, I threw it in the fire place and watched it for hours. When I finally pulled it from the flames not a page was scorched. The book wasn't even warm to the touch. I opened it, wanting to rip the pages from their binding and tear them into thousands of pieces. If it wouldn't burn, then maybe I could scatter it across the countryside.

I opened it to the first page. My name--or rather, the name I had chosen upon coming to this world--stood out. John Carter. Edgar Rice Burroughs wouldn't have minded, I thought. He might have thought of it as a good idea. He might have even asked for the rights to the story.

But of course, Burroughs wasn't here to question it. He couldn't tell the story, nor could any other writer in my world. Only one person could tell my story at all, but the thought of the girl that we--that I--failed to protect made me want to throw the book back on to the fire and just leave it for the next few weeks, hoping the magic would wear off at some point and the fire would consume it and everything I wrote. Besides, no one else in this world spoke English. Who else would read it?

I flipped to a page that contained some HTML code. Within that code I saw the word "blogger." If it was true, if there was a web page out that received messages from this journal...maybe it wasn't such a waste after all.

"Tell your tale!" Saul announced to me one night. It took a while to overcome the inhibitions to talk to him of such things, but several pints of ale did the trick. "Tell your tale for the world to know, yours and ours!"

"Yeah?"

"Yes! Think about it. It'd be cold!"

"You mean cool."

"That too." He finished off his ale--I don't remember which number it was--and released one of his well known belches that lasted for several seconds. Had he recited the alphabet, he probably would have reached the letter "k" before running out of steam.

"What were we talking about again?"

"Nothing," I said, and ordered another ale.

A few days later I went to Audry. She's the glue in our group. Once I called her Councilor Troi and it took me hours to explain the meaning of it. We can talk to her and she'll listen without comment until we are done. She offers answers where she can, and where she can't she provides encouraging comment.

"You say your work is being printed in your world," she said.

"Yes," I said. I tried explaining the internet to her and the others months ago, but to no avail. No one here had the frame of reference to grasp it. "The whole world could read it if they wanted."

She nodded, though I wasn't sure she fully understood. "Then you should continue to write in it, I think."

"But why? Look, I doubt anyone really cares anyway."

"But you do, yes?" she said. She pursed her lips, choosing her next words carefully. "And you must work out these difficulties you are having."

"Difficulties," I said. "You put that so well. A woman died because I couldn't get to her in time."

"A woman died because of Lareth," Audry said. "We did what we could."

"It's so easy for you, isn't it."

She looked hurt, and I immediately regretted saying it. "No," she said carefully. "No it is not easy for me. But it is hard for you."

She went on. "You have told me about the wonders of your world, the wonders brought about by tools instead of magic. What always struck me about your world was your medical technology. You not only heal the sick but you can provide chemicals that prevent one from getting ill in the first place. You can heal injured organs or even replace them in some cases. Further, you provide food for millions, so much so that many are portly. In all this wonder that is a part of your world lies your difficulty."

I shook my head. "I don't get it."

"Death is a stranger to you and your people," Audry said. "How many have you known who died?"

"Not many," I said. "My grandparents, but that's it really."

"I have known many," Audry said. "My teacher and mentor died in combat during the Greyhawk wars. In my youth I lost two siblings." She hesitated at my reaction. "This surprises you? It is common in this world. Magic can heal, but it is not always available. Sometimes children simply become unhealthy and die. In your world it is uncommon, yes?"

"Well, the part of the world I grew up in, yeah."

"And that is it. Death is a stranger to you, but it is quite familiar to us. People die, and the living move on."

I mulled on it for a moment. "It's that simple, huh?"

"No, it is not simple," she said again. "But it is necessary. And your journal that you can't seem to get rid of is a good place to start."

And so here I sit, writing in my journal. I look at the words I write, words that only I can understand (or a wizard with the right magic). I read what I have written before over and over and I realize that back home there was a word for what I am doing right now. Therapy.

Here's the next session.

****

The rain began just as we left Hommlet. It figured.

According to Anna, the moathouse was only a league out (later I calculated it was about three miles or so). It might as well have been a hundred leagues. There was a main trail, but we stayed well away from it. We took the long route through the woods. We cut through bramble and trudged through mud for miles, with Saul and Anna guiding us with their infravision.

My feet ached from the cold, but I pushed on. I pulled the hood of my poncho around my head. Everyone else huddled inside their cloaks. I reached down to touch the short sword at my side for the fourth time. The studs along the arm of my armor caught along the studs along my side. This armor thing was tricky. I looked over at Saul and wondered how he could stand wearing that chainmail. It looked so bulky. It didn't seem to make any noise, but I couldn't tell over the rain. I could barely make them out in the darkness of the woods. I cursed in English every time I tripped over a root or fallen tree, which meant I cursed a lot. I was thankful for the steel-tipped boots.

"The rain will cover our entrance," Saul said.

"And cover us," Anna said She shook her coat, sending water droplets everywhere. "Already is, come to think of it."

"Look at it like this," Marc said. "At least when we're in the moathouse we'll be out of the pouring rain."

"Assuming water has not leaked inside," Audry said. "As I recall, the moathouse is in poor condition."

The trees finally parted and I could see the moathouse in the semi-darkness of early morning. The outer walls looked slighted. There were places one could almost walk through them, or so I thought. A creek ran right up to the moathouse and then parted around it, creating a small moat. It was something of an obstacle, but not insurmountable.

"Damn," Marc said. "I had hoped to be here before light."

"There is still time," Audry said. She squinted at the area around the crumbling walls. "I don't see any cover."

"Certainly not," Saul said. "The walls are slighted, the gate is broken--the only real defense they have at this point is keep anyone from hiding while approaching." Saul scanned the ground in front of him. "The rains probably destroyed any recent tracks."

"And it will remove ours as well," Audry said. "The question is how to get in."

"Front door's out," Anna said. "Probably trapped and guarded, at least that'd be the case if these guys were smart."

"It would be best to assume they are," Marc said. He gestured at the west side of the structure where the wall was little more than a large pile of debris. "Perhaps there?"

"Too unstable," Anna said. "Hells, I wouldn't climb it."

"How about the tower," I said. A large hole rested some ten feet off the ground. Underneath it was a pile of debris. "From inside the tower we can get a better look at the courtyard."

Saul raised an eyebrow. "Makes sense. The rain will cover any noise we make. And if it's too crowded in the courtyard then we can wait until nightfall and ambush them."

"That assumes the guards are not seeking shelter from the rain in the tower," Audry said. "We...Anna!"

Audry covered her mouth with her hand, but her sudden outburst mattered little. Anna was already some twenty feet outside the trees. She turned at Audry's shout, but from the look on her face she didn't quite hear what Audry said. She just smiled and continued on, keeping low to the ground with an arrow nocked in her bow.

"Marc," I said, "you don't happen to have a spell that could let us peak inside, do you?"

Marc shook his head. "We didn't have a lot of time to plan for this. I'm afraid my scrying spells are somewhat limited."

"We'll do it the old fashioned way then," Saul said, nocking an arrow in his own bow. He scanned the decaying wall of the moathouse. Marc and Audry kept an eye on the surrounding area. I watched the tower as Anna made her way down to the creek. The further away she got, the harder it became to see her. She stopped at the waters edge and pulled her cloak tightly about her. She shimmered in the rain briefly.

I blinked. It had to be a trick of the rain. And then I realized that I could see through her. I could see little wisps of her cloak as she adjusted it. Then, her whole form shimmered as she made her way toward the moathouse.

"Elven cloaks," Marc said. "Didn't I ask you to get me one of those?"

"Yes, well," Saul said," it should be here any day now."

"You said that a year ago," Audry said. She frowned as she looked at Anna. "I wish she'd warn me before she did these things."

"What fun would that be?" Saul said.

The shimmering form of Anna stopped at the point the creek reached the moathouse. She was nearly invisible when she stood motionless. The creek split around the moathouse...that or the moathouse rested in the middle of a small pond in which the creek passed through. In any case, the creek became a moat and gave the moathouse its name.

Anna entered the creek. Water rippled away from her form, but not so much as I expected it would. I didn't know if it was the rain that dispersed the waters motion where she disturbed it or if it was an effect of the cloak. The tower stood some ten feet out into the pond, and by the time Anna reached it I guessed it was a little over her waist (it was hard to tell when she was damn near invisible). She reached tentatively for the rubble pile, checking the larger stones. Satisfied they were stable, she climbed the rubble pile. In less then a minute she reached the hole in the tower. She scrambled through.

We waited for several minutes. Nothing happened.

"What's she doing?" I whispered.

"What she always does," Audry said. "She'll give us the signal when it's clear."

"Well, what if she got hurt or something?" I said.

"That girl could climb a sheet of ice," Saul said. "I wouldn't--ah, look."

Anna leaned out of the gap in the tower wall. She pulled back her hood, revealing her small form. She waved for us to approach.

"I guess it's clear," Saul said. He stepped into the open, still keeping an arrow nocked and watching the moathouse walls. I came in behind him, eyeing the walls. I saw no one, and it felt wrong. Who would set up here and not post guards? I reminded myself to ask Anna if she saw guards when she scouted out the area.

We waded into the water. My waterproof boots kept out much of the water, but once we started wading in over my shins then it would just be a matter of time before water got in. That meant I'd have to take them off and let them dry out. If I didn't then jungle rot would set in. I wondered if what healing spell would fix that, healing or cure disease?

The water came up to my waist by the time we reached the tower itself. The current tugged gently at my cloak. My legs--among other things--were cold. I looked up and saw Anna gesturing at us.

"C'mon, it's clear." She ducked back inside.

Saul tested the rubble, and then climbed up. It held firm as he made his way inside. Audry followed, and then me. The footing was very firm. Too firm. Getting inside was easy. I ducked into the small hole and dropped down a few feet to a large piece of battlement and then again to the floor.

The inside of the tower looked worse than the outside. Water pooled up on the dirt floor from leaks in the roof. The "roof" was actually the floor of the next level. I could see traces of light shining through the floor boards. The inside of the tower was maybe fifteen feet across. There was only one exit--a wooden door that looked much newer than the rest of the tower.

"Wasn't so bad, was it?" Anna said.

"Too easy," Marc said. I looked up at him as he entered the tower. Rain water dripped off of his wide brimmed hat and puddled on the floor. "You would think they would have blocked this area off."

"Or placed guards," Audry said. She gestured at the door. "Looks well maintained."

"So does the roof," Saul said. "I don't...."

I followed Saul's gaze to the ceiling. At first I only saw the jagged outline of a poorly, but freshly maintained roof. I wondered who would stack boards in such a manner, and then I saw one of the boards move. It looked like a tree branch the size of my leg moving across the boards. It was followed by another, and then another. A large shape blotted out the meager light peering through the patchwork roof.

"Something's out there," I said.

"Not out there, John," Saul said. He drew his sword.

The shape fell. I jumped aside and expected a loud crash. Instead I heard a soft thump as they thing caught itself. I could make it out clearly in the dim light.

I had seen such things before. The largest I had seen was in a zoo. It was as big as a dinner plate. This was far larger, large enough to make a meal of all of us. And if it's proclivities in this world were the same as it's smaller cousins on my world, then I was an appetizer.

It spun toward me on its eight legs and stared at me with its pupiless eyes. I could see my reflection in all eight of them.