#castlello

[lostincoloste]

Act One, Chapter Five

The wind howled through the pass, cold wintry air slicing through the world, rattling the windows of the village. Snow danced through the air, sticking to the sides of houses and exposed rock face. While the pass was the safest way through the mountain range on the way to the wall, safest didn’t mean safe. The village was small, more built as a waystation for travellers along the mountain pass, from a time ling ago, when people still travelled this room. The humans that had once built this waystation and the road it sat on had long abandoned it.

Day 8: The wind shrieked and howled, almost doing enough to drown the sounds of the rook that occupied the village. It would take steps, patrolling along the perimeter, not following a schedule or logical progression. The young mother, Elenwe, inside one of the buildings tended to the fire cracking in the stove, was bouncing her baby lightly and praying to her gods that the child wouldn’t cry. She passed him onto his father, gently stroking the fur along the babies chest and stomach, black and blue like her own fur colourations, but with wiry and long fur like his father, Brenin. Her baby coo’d and giggled, and she smiled. The rook was named Korvaxx in her tongue. Human tongue of the region would call it Ice-Fury, or Frozen Menace. The Shaman-Chief of her people, wizened with white fur, said it was punishment for their crimes. They were not supposed to rest in human settlements, but the storm caught them in this village, and now Korvaxx prevented them from leaving. Two of the warriors of her clan had gone out, to scout an escape. They were hunted and Destroyed by Korvaxx. Luckily, whenever the humans had left, they left preserved and dried foods, somehow still edible. Her people had been surviving off rations of that, but they would soon run out.

Beyond the thunder of what I thought was a normal storm, and the pain of the wind shredding through inappropriate for the weather clothing, the only other thing I could hear was the sharp flapping of my cape, or the steam whistle within Castlello piping hard to warm up the little guy’s body. Once again, I thought to myself, that I was going to die because I didn’t listen to my father. I should have packed winter clothes, gloves and a hat. But I thought I knew better. I pined for Lila and her tea, and her warm house, which even my campfire last night was a pale imitation of. I forgot to write the past few days, sorry journal, but it was just so boring, walking and walking and walking, until I came to the edge of the forest, and saw a huge mountain range, nearly impassible except for one tine path carved through. So that’s caught up now. Through the thick fog and frozen mist, I saw something move. I thought it was just a hallucination, but I could’ve sworn I saw a little hairy man scurry away, into the fog. Just a silhouette really. Then, I saw something beautiful; constructed buildings, wood and stone houses built into holes in the mountains beside us. And from one of the buildings, the largest one, emanated a bright orange glow; the promise of a crackling warm fire. As I approached, I heard what sounded like voices, melodic and deep, speaking. But I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Castlello heard it too, as I saw it turn to face the source of the noise; and then open the door at it’s front, and suddenly the voices were loud and clear. I’ll write down what sounds they were making, but it’s all gibberish to me. “Zul nul-uvanin karbuk!” barked one, a deep voice that sounded out of breath, “Iv golevursh zul'akal” replied a different one. A few seconds passed, and the first voice quietly said “Kel n'vulen ush ner'ganin balre” and was cut off by a new, almost old sounding voice, “Fath zulgari zaurlan Korvaxx? Ashke nul!” but they were all silenced by a passionate voice, which yelled “Zuul zhah'goth, nul-sul karnak-nul yishgar!” and then the door of the large building slammed open, a furry little diminutive figure standing in front and looking at me with large eyes.

“Something comes near!” the deep voice of one of the scouts barked out. Elenwe saw a lone figure emerging through the snow, her form shrouded in a dark, flowing cloak that fluttered in the wind like a restless ghost. Despite the harsh elements, she walked confidently forward, her footsteps resolute and solid. Her silhouette was tall and slender, with a straight-backed posture that hinted at discipline and training. The shape of her sword could just be discerned, a long and formidable blade strapped securely to her back. “I think it is human” Brenin said, holding their child and watching the stranger approach, cautiously stepping back from the door. She was coming right for the building they all huddled in. The scout, now in the building, having climbed in through a window that he promptly shut, quietly asked “"Should we tell it to turn back?" and was quickly interrputed by the Shaman-Chief “And risk getting caught by Ice-Fury? Absolutely not!” He spat, his voice thick with fear and attempt to restore his authority. Elenwe fiddled with the rings on her fingers, upset and betrayed by the Shaman-Chief. “I'm going out there, someone needs to save it!” Elenwe shouted, and ignored the immediate reaction of the people around her, catching them all by surprise as she threw open the door into the blizzard, hanging out the door and looking at the human. She hadn’t noticed the small rook that walked beside her, and caught herself in a gasp, doubting herself. The human approached faster, trudging through the howling winds and thick snow, quickly approaching Elenwe and the door, before stopping, and saying something. Elenwe, or any of her people, didn’t understand what the warrior said, but she looked inside, and saw all the people of Elenwe’s clan huddled, and hiding. Then, she pointed to the fire, and then rubbed her arms in an exaggerated motion, Elenwe (And the rest of her clan) took this as the wanderer asking for warmth by the fire, and it was not the way of her people to turn away a stranger in need.

The small creature that opened the door to me caught me off guard. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen, small, and covered in blue and white fur, with a animalistic face with large expressive purple eyes. They appeared to be wearing garments made of thickly bound leather and fur patchworked together, in a sort of Great Kilt style. The ones who carried weapons, which appeared to be carved clubs, also had leather plates of some sort on their shoulders and legs. “Thank you for saving me…” I muttered to the little creature, but she simply cocked her head at me. She couldn’t understand what I said, and I began to panic. I had to convey what I meant somehow; and clearly I’d have to perform the action. I looked inside, at the various little creatures in there, with varying fur colours (Most shades of blues, greens or purples) and saw them huddled around a fireplace. To the one at the door, I gestured to the fireplace, and made an exaggerated gesture of being cold. She nodded, and held open the door, nodding at the fire. I almost rushed in, but then realized that might seem like a threat. Castlello didn’t seem to want to come in, instead preferring to guard the door. It’s choice. I instead slowly walked in, keeping my hands clearly away from my sword, before kneeling down at the fire, dwarfing in size the few that were here. They seemed…. Not quite frightened, but not excited or awed.

The stranger entered the building with a quiet, purposeful stride. He long, tattered purple cloak billowed out behind her, and her personal guard, a mini K’letor. The demon seemed loyal to her, and a quiet whisper crossed the room as she walked, calm and confidently. The warriors of this tribe watched her curiously, enviously. She walked with her hands nowhere near her weapon, such was the confidence of this warrior surrounded by strangers. The chain and ball at her belt rang out with every step, barely visible through her outfit. She crouched down by the fire, near the young ones. Elenwe almost smirked, her nose twitching in effort to maintain her solemn and serious look. The young ones were scared, but also trying to pretend not to be, but the air was thick with the anxious smell the young ones give off when anxious. The stranger was nearly shaking, and Elenwe noticed that underneath her magnificent purple cloak, they were wearing what looked like thin clothes. Not suitable for this weather, or travel. She wasn’t experienced with humans, and without being covered in fur that changed colour and markings as one aged, humans were hard for her to guess the age of. But wearing thin cloth like this, and passing through this pass? The stranger may carry a fearsome sword and control one of the demons, but based on that one choice, (or mistake, Elenwe thought to herself) told her enough about this human; she was young, inexperienced, or unprepared. More likely, she thought to herself, all three. She looked to her own child in her partner’s arms, and then looked once again to the stranger. She sat near the fire, eyes steely but darting around; hunter’s eyes. Always alert for danger.

The novelty of the stranger wore off after a while, and soon food rations were being passed around. The tribe passed a portion to the stranger, and without much of a reaction, she passed it on to the child next to her, watching her. Elenwe frowned a bit, still examining the stranger, now from her alcove with her partner and child. Brenin and her shared a look, and Elenwe quietly asked Brenin to grab the spare materials. As he left, Elenwe’s eyes drifted to the Shaman-Chief, whose look was angry, nearly quaking with the rage within him. The gods wouldn’t punish them for helping a stranger, and she knew that he was only trying to protect them all, but the fact that his authority was undermined, something that had never happened before, was eating him up inside. Elenwe stood up a second after the Shaman-Chief began to move He was lunging towards the stranger, and Elenwe instinctively got in between him and the young stranger, the sudden movement waking her child, who gasped with the sudden movement. “Elenwe! This stranger needs to go! For all we know she’s calling Ice-Fury!” He said to her, his voice nearly a roar. But Elenwe stood her ground, leaning forward in a challenging stance “Since when do we abandon people who need our help, Vrakkis,? If the gods are already punishing us, then they will destroy us for doing that!” Elenwe completed her challenging of the authority of the Shaman-Chief by calling him his adult name, instead of his title. There was a muffled gasp, and shock passed through the people of her tribe. Vrakkis bristled, and opened his mouth to say something, before wind whipped into the building like a bull through the weak wood, nearly shattering the door off of it’s hinges, and the ground shook. They all knew what that meant. Ice-Fury was back. Elenwe nearly caught a self satisfied smirk on Vrakkis’ face, as if this proved the stranger was calling the demon. The stranger, who was watching this whole event unfold, jumped to her feet, hand instinctively on her sword. Then, she said something in their language, broken, and in the wrong tone for what Elenwe presumed was a question, “Ice-fury?”

I stayed with the little furry people for a while, warming up. They tried to pass me food, but I had my own and it looked like they were hiding out the storm here, and had children. Such as this one, with soft green fur and big brown eyes that stared at me the whole time I sat there. He was kinda cute, in a weird way. These people had delicate, animalistic features, and most of them wore jewelry on their person, whether on their fingers, wrists, ankles, or sewn into the clothes. There had been a slightly uncomfortable quiet in the house since I arrived, with murmurs quietly at the edges of the room. The children who had once stayed by my side had long since fled to their parents, or what I assume was their parents. The one who held the door for me nursed a baby, and I caught her eyes glancing between me and an angry looking one covered in white fur and cloudy grey eyes. What happened next was like a blur to me. The old one lunged towards me, but the mother that had let me in placed herself between me and the old one. She placed herself in a defensive stance between myself and the old one, and they spoke to each other in their language, the old one barking out something that barely sounded like individual words, and more like a series of barks, yells and roars. She leaned forward, and I noticed she was actually larger than him, and more steady on her feet. He almost seemed to deflate as she did this, and she spoke clearly and calmly to what I assumed was their chief. When she finished what she said, I could feel the room get quiet and tense, and I nearly thought the wind breaking down the door was some sort of magic chief had, before I recognized the familiar sound of a rook’s footfalls, and the sounds they make. They’d been repeating a word, almost spitting when they said it, and I was about to bet that it was this thing they were referring to. I looked at the mother and the chief, and asked “Korvaxx?” and they both looked at me like I’d grown a second head. Then the roof got ripped off. Giant icy claws more accurately tore through the roof, the biting wind stinging as the snow war hurled at me like tiny daggers. I had found Korvaxx. I widened my stance, hand instinctively falling to the chain at my hip, before I thought and realized what was more important than defeating this rook. I glanced behind me, and saw a house beuint into the overhanging crag. I pointed, and shouted “GO!” a few times. The people were frozen in shock, until the mother realized what I was attempting to communicate. She shouted in her language, and the ones I had identified as warriors barked out a response. They quickly organized themselves, the non-warrior adults quickly gathering essentials and children, while the warriors strode to the sides, distracting the rook with stones thrown from slings that barely did anything. I was about to join them, help guide the rook away, when I noticed the rook had it’s glowing blue eye on something; a mop of green fur that was partially buried by the snow. It was the kid that was watching me, and the rook lunged toward it, it’s icy claws reaching out. I wasn’t about to find out why it was after this kid, with a sharp ring, my blade was off my back and at my side, and I threw all of my weight into a swing with the blunt edge, up and diagonally, which smashed through the icy claws and smashed a chunk off the hand of the rook. It let out a bellow, the sounds of cannons firing in it’s voice, before the storm whipped up, snow blinding everyone. But my ears picked up the sounds of it’s footsteps, backing up like a wounded beast, disappearing fully into the blizzard. I reached down, scooping up the child below me, pulling him from the snow and holding his shivering body to my chest. The warriors watched it flee, then looked at me.

The purple cloaked savior pushed through the door behind the warriors, carrying one of the children. Elenwe couldn’t believe they had lost him, and she rushed forward to take him from the stranger, who lightly let him down in front of Elenwe. The child didn’t even really look hurt, more confused and cold. Vrakkis’ white face stared at Elenwe and the stranger, before rushing forward and hugging the child. It was his own grandchild. After all. He hugged for a while, before sharing a quiet whisper, and gently nudging the child to the fireplace where someone was trying to start a new fire. The cold that Ice-Fury had created left them all shivering. Elenwe worried that some of them might not get warm enough this time, the surprise attack had taken them by such surprise that many were in their indoor dress, nearly naked, and had signs of forstbite. She looked to the stranger, who was wearing a grim frown, and Elenwe could see the beginnings of tears in her eyes. She was devasstated by the attack too, terrified of what could’ve happened to the tribe. She cast a look over all of them, and then turned to the door, and quickly left.

I couldn’t just leave these people to this, they clearly hadn’t found ways to fight off rooks at all. The kids, the baby, were all in danger. I went outside, and found Castlello digging itself out of a pile of snow. I would’ve normally chuckled, and in hindsight it’s pretty funny. But all I felt was rage. I would not let a rook devastate these people, or take any parents away from children. Good thing I was a skilled hunter, and have the type of rage that makes me intensely focused. It’s not hard to track what is essentially a moving building surrounded by a magic blizzard. It was stalking the perimeter of the village, and I quickly caught up to it. I yelled, getting the thing’s attention. Unlike other rooks, this one wasn’t a castle, but a massive Rook constructed of ice and snow. The Rook's body was made of jagged ice bricks, while its spindly legs and arms are crafted from frosted, gnarled tree branches. It towered over me, easily thrice my height, it’s lone eye glowing with a chilling blue light. I rolled my neck, cracking it, and dropped my hand to the weapon at my belt.

Elenwe had followed, sneaking behind the stranger. She originally intended on stopping the stranger, but she had moved too quickly for Elenwe to keep up in the snow, and she dared not cry out for fear of Ice-Fury. The blizzard worsened, and she heard the stranger issue a challenging cry, and the scene came into Elenwe’s view. The wind howled, kicking up flurries of snow that danced around the combatants. Ice-Fury’s body was entirely ice, with a lone sickening eye that locked onto the stranger like a wolf looking at food. With a sudden burst of speed, the demon lunged at her, it’s ice claws slashing through the air, but the stranger was faster, and sidestepped the attack, hew purple cloak billowing behind her, looking less like a human and more like a savior from the stories. There was a glint, a spark at the strangers side, the ball and chain at her side sparked. The demon roared in anger, and unleased a blast of icy wind at her, and she responded with a wide swing of her ball and chain, the crackling energy of her weapon dispersing the blast before it could even reach her. With a fluid motion, she spun the chain around her, and flung the ball at the demon. The ball struck the beast’s icy body with a resounding thud, causing it to stumble backwards on it’s tree legs. The stranger took the opportunity, and charged forward, her massive sword held high. The demon swung it’s massive arms, but the stranger was too quick, darting in and around with blinding speed. Then, with a cry that Elenwe could swear pierced the heavens, the stranger leapt into the air, her cloak behind her like the wings of an avenging spirit, and brought her sword down in a mighty ar. The blade sliced cleanly through the demon’s icy body, shattering it into a thousand pieces. The snow and ice exploded around her, sending flakes swirling in every direction. She landed gracefully on the ground, her sword blade resting against the settling snow. Her eyes scanned the area, ready for anything else that might try her. But she never saw Elenwe, who by now had scurried back to her tribe, ready to regale them with the tale of their savior. No longer a stranger, now the Fury-breaker.

After I destroyed the Rook, I was surprised to find it was really unlike any I’d fought before. It fell apart, and there really wasn’t any internal mechanisms to speak of, other than a stone that had to be the Rookstone. I noticed it was about the same size and weight at the pommel stone of my sword, and I had an idea, to try when I could camp. Then, I made my way back to the house with the people. It seemed like I attracted trouble, and so I wouldn’t be staying. My best chance was to just push through the snow, now much more manageable without the Rook making a storm. I opened the door to the building, to a waiting audience. The old one and the mother were at the front. When I opened, chatter went silent, and they all repeated a word, a few times. Then the mother help up a hand, and they went quiet. “Thraxxikor” she said, the same thing they were all saying. I figured out they were calling me that, like some sort of nickname? Or title? But they all said it with reverence, and eventually they passed forward a garment, the old one giving it to me. I realized it was like what they wore, but larger for my size, and sewn in with many, many pieces of jewelry, crafted from metal, wood and bones. I took it, and it seemed like they were expecting something, so I put it on on top of my lighter clothes. It was warm, and comfy. They seemed pleased with this, and so I nodded. And turned towards the door, and saying my thanks. I also mentioned that my name is Niamh, not Thraxxikor. I know they wouldn’t understand it. Then, I left. I found Castlello struggling through the deep snow. Eventually, it found it’s way to the packed snow that I figured had to be some sort of path, and walked beside me. It almost seemed like it was upset, perhaps that I didn’t let it protect me in the fight. I figured it would get over it. We travelled a few more hours, until the light of the brazier turned red, and dimmed. By then we were through the worsts of the pass, in a lower mountainous section that was jagged and craggy, but not snowy. I figure I must’ve somehow messed up, this didn’t feel like a mountain pass that was traversable, but it is what it is. Then I set camp, and noticed that in the pockets of the garment was a preserved gourd of some sort, and when I opened it and tasted the liquid inside, I understood it was a gift. The honey sweet, berry and botanical flavors of an alcohol danced across my tongue. This was delicious, and to be saved.

The stranger left, as Elenwe predicted. Avenging and protecting spirits didn’t stick around when they weren’t needed. After Fury-Breaker left, the storm began to get better, and for the first time in days it seemed like things would be okay. Then, it felt right, the time to name her child had come. She turned to Brenin, and held her arms out for their child. “Niamh, I think we can call him Niamh.” It was one of the last things the spirit had said in the human tongue it spoke, and it felt right to Elenwe.

[marcointroini]

La mostra NEL BOSCO caricata! pronti per partire per il Castlello di Valcasotto! con @epiccardo e @larasappa @petitesfolies_garessio CI VEDIAMO DONANI ALLE 18,00 Castello di Valcasotto_Garessio #marcointroini #garessio #valcasotto #bosco #woods #forest #foresta #mappingwoods #landscapephotography #architecturephotography #fotografiadipaesaggio #fotografiadellarchitettura #nature #natura #alpacameras #alpa12max https://www.instagram.com/p/CRqZ8W-j4ie/?utm_medium=tumblr

[alacqua]

Happy monday!!! . . We start the week with this beautiful photo from @lmgbuli . . - ● Sᴄʜʟᴏꜱꜱ Mᴏᴏꜱʜᴀᴍ ● . . Moosham Castle is a medieval castle near Unternberg in the Lungau region of Salzburg/ Austria. The spur castle is situated at a height of 1.079m 🏰 ____________________________________________________ #exploretocreate #reisenmachtgluecklich #theoutbound #castles #stayandwander #stayoutside #mooshamcastle #exploremore #schloss #igersaustriaontour #ifeelaustria #castillo #castillos #austria #europe #ichreise #chateau #castelli #exploretotheextreme #castiel #hradyazamky #hradyzamky #замок🏰 #lovecastle #europestyle #castlello #castle #castlelo #castelos https://www.instagram.com/p/B5kdHOoA0yU/?igshid=172rradyhtx5c

[kurachk]

Замок Скалигеров 18в. в давние времена был военным портом веронской флотилии) #castle #castlello #scaligero #sirmione #lago #garda #lagodigarda #lombardia #brescia #italia #travel #europe #eurotrip

[lostincoloste]

Act One, Chapter 4

I descended the final stair, into what looked like some sort of… tomb? Shrine? It was long abandoned by people, but there was signs we had been here. Stone carved chairs, what look like elevated presenting or speaking areas, crumbling bookshelves. I first caught sight of the creatures at that last step too. They flitted out of the light as I approached, like a shadow moving across the wall. I didn’t think anything of them at first, but I soon would. I was more worried about Castlello, who was beginning to move sluggishly, lost balance and stepping with all it’s weight. Almost like a little toddler, staggering down the steps. “Cas, are you alright?” was all I could say. I’d never seen it like this before, even when exiting it’s sleep, it’s not disoriented and staggering, just a bit slow. Then I heard the sound box inside of it playing… and then I realized it was mimicking a sounds I hadn’t noticed. A song of some sort, quiet and strange, but with a rhythm. Like a choir, or church congregation. I threw my cape over Castlello, hoping to block out the sounds, but all it did was plop down, sitting onto it’s rocky bottom. “Are you kidding!?” I pleaded with it, but all it did was sit and gently rock around. Fine, I thought to myself. I’ll just examine this alone, then. I was worried, of course, but the anger at the abandonment by my only companion made me act out. I didn’t need a rookling to be an adventurer. The ruins stretched on in front of me, at the end of a short hallway was a thick stone door, partially open, that revealed some sort of engraved wall inside. I quickly pushed my way in, throwing open the doors with abandon, and looking upon the carved wall. I was massively dwarfed by the size of the wall engraving. It was huge and nearly untouched, the bottom bit, the only bit someone of my height, or a bit higher, could reach, was covered in various oily looking hand prints, obscuring much of it. It looked to be a wall, possibly dating to before whoever inhabited here figured out writing, as it was covered in pictures of the hero, brandishing sword and lyre, in various scenes likely depicting tales of heroism.

I approached the wall, my own hands seemingly acting on their own to touch the engraved images. The second my hand made contact, pain wracked every nerve of my body, and my head snapped back, vision going dark for a second. Then, I saw, clear as day, what I knew to be the hero depicted on the wall, a massive sword like my own hanging from his back. He was tall, with dark skin and long curly hair, wearing a very revealing tunic and leather skirt, reinforced with rook pieces made of a red-gold material I’d never seen a Rook of. In his hands, however, was a Lyre. The Lyre looked to be made of bone, or antler of some sort, similar to the hilt of my sword, carved and engraved with something incredibly intricate. I looked out and saw what he was looking at: a city, and a massive rook, nearly the size of a city itself, bearing down on it. He plucked a tune I couldn’t quite make out, like listening to one instrument of a song through the water, and as he played, the air thrummed, and the rook slowed down, then brought itself down into a resting position, before stopping like that. The hero grinned a self confident grin, and strutted down the hill he was perched on, breaking into a jog and shouldering his sword.

Then the scene changed, now rain was beating down on us, massive droplets hailing down on us like arrows from the heavens. I looked behind us, and was shocked by what I saw: My hometown, Stonebrook. Well, Stonebrook before it was Stonebrook. But I would recognize the landscape anytime, The creek, little cliff, and there were even a few houses I knew were old. My home was there, at the base of the Little Cliff. I also saw people, terrified people, hiding in those homes, and running away. I turned back around to see what was terrifying everyone so, and nearly cried out in fright when I turned back. An army of Rooks, monstrous and rampaging, giant swords clashing and cannons thundering. Bearing right down on us, charging. Then, I heard a note, plucked from the lyre, just the one before I couldn’t hear what he was playing. I felt the rooks approaching, and then, above them, I felt a drumbeat, a war song, reverberate through my chest. Once again, the air itself seemed alive, and thrummed with the music. The rooks in front of us stopped, a rampage of these monstrous constructs crashing into each other some moving with such force that the fell apart and broke as the charge halted. Then, after a couple seconds, they turned, and began to flee, the infighting among them worse than before, ruins and bits of them being left as fragments . Soon, they had all fled, thundering into the distance. Then, my vision went dark again.

I awoke on the floor, cold and shivering, my body wet with sweat. I could smell myself, which is disgusting. My muscles felt like I’d been standing there, flexing every single one intensely for several minutes, which I probably was. On the engraving wall, I saw exactly where my hands had been, scorched and dug into the wall. While visions aren’t normal exactly, visions that make that happen feel less normal. My hands weren’t burnt, or even dirties than before, but there was no mistaking that was where I had been standing mere minutes ago. I pulled myself off the floor, and wiped away the sweat on my face with my cape, readjusting my sword on my back to be ready to draw. I had a bad feeling about all this. From here, there was 2 doors out, ignoring the one I came in from. One looked heavy, like a fancy door that might have led to a vault or something of the sort, and the other a plain stone door, unadorned. I opted for the fancy door, reasoning that if I was looking for something in here, hopefully the Lyre, it would likely be hidden in the vault or treasury or whatever this room was. It took all my strength and a good powerful position, but I braced myself and slowly pushed the door open. The room was dark, and once I pulled my torch in, in the centre I saw something weird: A humanoid looking stone construct, holding a bag and stuffing shiny pieces of metal into it. The head of the thing, which looked like a crown of stone, slowly turned towards me. I looked at it, in shock, as it looked back to me with blue glowing eyes. It was made of a dark grey stone, different than the walls of the dungeon, and in it’s hand was a large sack that it was clearly pushing stuff into. I looked at the thing in front me, recognizing what it was doing. This thing was a thief, and likely not from in this tomb. It chattered at me, before dropping the sack on the floor, and pick up a sword off the table, the blade an ancient rusted thing in an unfamiliar design.

The thing swung it’s blade at me, a wide and clumsy strike the I easily backpedaled away from, a half step being all I needed. As it’s blade collided and bounced off the wall, I was able to quickly launch the ball hanging from my hip at it, the ball doing just enough to distract it for a few moments, giving me the time I was buying to pull my sword from my back, and slam it down on the thing’s arm, shattering the limb, sending it back a few steps, reeling. I flipped my blade to the flat side, and threw the whole massive sword over my shoulder and then down in a crescent shaped strike across the creature’s body, it’s stony exterior shattering and flying around the room. For a few seconds, the glow of it’s eyes remained and I could see some sort of… sad expression on it’s face. I was probably reading into it; Rooks and rook related things weren’t truly alive, and don’t have feelings. It’s just out nature, as people, personifying them. As it’s gears ground to a halt and the lights that were it’s eyes went out, I remembered what it was doing. Looting.

I found it’s bag, an old burlap thing that worked very well for carrying treasure. And my-oh-my did it have a good haul. Tiny little fragmented Rookstones, worthless to me but very valuable to crafters. It also had a small wooden box in the bag, which held clearly ancient books within. That’s a good haul. I didn’t think about it in the moment, but it was important that whatever that thing was, it recognized the value in human, intelligent writing. As I write my journal, I worry that what I thought I knew about Rooks and things like them isn’t the full truth I’d believed. I’ll have to… think. The room wasn’t fully looted yet, either. I rifled through cupboard and cabinets, finding what looked like a piece of a Rookling, one I could put onto Castlello, once it wasn’t malfunctioning. I shoved that into the bag, as well as a few more pieces of Rookstones and jewelry made of precious metals.

The faint singing became louder again, and I readied my sword, ready to fight whatever was making the sound. I first saw it’s eyes, glowing like a cat’s in the dark, and a crimson. The whistling slowed as this thing stopped, and then took on a new tune, a droning high pitch, quickly moving up and down in pitch and note. It’s skin was pitch black, I could only barely make out the creature’s size. I called them Ruinlings. It rushed me, sharp claws raking across my shoulder, ripping my shirt and throwing the torch from my hands. I scrambled, moving to get into the light before I was swallowed by the inky darkness that filled the room. I saw a flash of it’s red eye, and dodged into the light of the torch, ducking into a dive roll, and managing to pick up the torch as I rolled past it. As I got to my feet, I pirouetted, swinging the torch around, cracking the torch into the face of the ruinling. The beast fell to the ground, and I gave it no chance, bringing my sword down into the creature, killing it in one fell swoop. Once it wasn’t moving so fast, I could see it better by the torchlight. It’s skin was pitch black, and very wet, almost oily looking. From what I could see of the thing’s mouth, it appeared to have fluted teeth-like bone protrusions that likely were the source of it’s whistling sounds. The rest of the whistling ringing through the ruins had changed, now anxiety inducing droning was heard in dozens of different pitches, a sound I could feel in my skull, rattling and buzzing in my ears. I would have to find whatever was in here fast, and pray to the spirits it would be worth it. I caught my breath, poured a bit of water from my canteen over my scratch. It stung, but it wasn’t deep. Looks like these things kill you by a thousand cuts.

I opened the door that I hadn’t touched yet, and from what I could see, it was a simple long hallway, echoes of the whistles reverberating back and forth across the ancient polished stone. I walked down the hallway, torch held high, with a careful eye for movement, but I was quickly distracted. The walls had similar markings and runes carved into them as Castlello, ancient and faded like it’s own body, but familiar to examination. As I pressed onwards, I heard the whistling change tune again, and before I could listen to what it sounded like, the ground began to rumble underneath me, and the walls on either side slowly began to move inward, threatening to crush me.

Panicking, I searched for a door, or an exit proper, but found nothing. I frantically kepts rushing down the hallway, looking for a way out, but my efforts were fruitless. With ever passing second, the walls pulled in closer, the claustrophobic space filling with the sound of the stone grinding. Then, as I began to lose hope, I saw something. Not necessarily better, but something not crushing at the end of the hallway. It looked like this part of the ruins had fallen into some massive underground sinkhole, a sheer drop awaiting me. I didn’t have time to think, it was either get crushed or brave the drop. I chose to brave the drop. As I ran up to it, I pulled the electrified chain off my belt, and prayed it would work like a grappling hook. I spun it a few times, until the crackling electric energy began to spark off the ball, and jumped from the ledge, into a freefall. I lost my torch, it slipped from my hand and went falling, spinning down hundreds of metres, before splashing into what must be some sort of reservoir that connects to the lake above.

There’s a moment, when you jump into a freefall, before you’ve really registered that you’re falling to likely your death, where it feels like everything is standing still. That hang time is very important to death defying stunts, like the one I did. I tossed the electrified ball, praying that it’s force would crash it into the wall with enough force to embed and hold. I wish I could say it was all skill that saved me, but like everything on the adventure so far, I got lucky. The walls closed as the ball of lightning and steel arced and slammed into the walls, fully securing my ball. Gravity seemed to finally pull me down, and my knuckles went white as I gripped onto the chain for my life. I fell , the chain going taut in my hands, and I began to arc down, swinging back and forth before eventually coming to a slow stop. My arms were already burning and shaking, and I still had to climb up. It took minutes for me to climb just a few metres. But then I lucked out, I saw the faint outline of a tunnel, my eyes having somewhat adjusted to the dark. I lowered myself a bit, and began to swing my legs, slowly building up momentum back and forth, inching my way closer to the ledge with every swing. That’s when the trouble began, as I heard something in the water blew make a splash. I didn’t look down, but within a few moments, I didn’t need to. A giant serpent-like creature launched out of the water, bioluminescent scales lighting up the whole cavern with rainbow lights. It gracefully launched out of the water, it’s gnashing toothy maw taking a few snaps in my direction. My lews swung in a panic, and I fell of the kilter I needed to be swinging at, my hands nearly slipping from the chain. The snake flew at me again, this time coming mere feet from getting me, it’s maw full of rows of razor sharp teeth. I tried to swing my legs again, my body covered in sweat and shaking, when I heard the creature launching at me once more, the roar of the water giving me an idea. It had gotten closer each time, now I bet it was coming directly at me, with power speed and momentum. I held my breath for a moment, then ducked my legs up just in time as the creature’s mouth snapped where I would’ve been a few seconds before. Then, just as fast, I slammed my feet down, springboarding off the snout of the beast and getting launched by it’s speed. I flew forward at a breakneck speed, and felt the chain go loose in my hand as the metal ball pulled out of the wall it was embedded into. I tucked and rolled, hitting the ground hard and tumbling, wrapping myself up in the chain.

Honestly, for a while I just laid there. My body was exhausted, and I was getting hungry. As I lay there, I asked nobody in particular “Why did it have to be snakes…” after who knows how long, I stood up and disentangled myself, putting the ball and chain back properly on my belt. My chest was heaving with the deep breaths I was taking, but as I stood there, I noticed something. Silence. No whistling, no singing; perhaps the Ruinlings thought I had fallen to their trap, or the underground serpent. I slowly stumbled my way through this hallway, before coming to the end, which felt like an intricately carved door. Luckily these engravings didn’t throw me into a vision was all I was thinking. I pushed open the door, throwing my whole body into the push, and it slowly pushed open, grinding open across the floor.

The library opened for me, the light surprising me. I squinted, and looked up, surprised to see there being a skylight, the lake above ground being directly on top of this library. The light flickered and floated around, casting everything is a soft dreamlike view. The room was massive, ancient bookcases covered in dust and cobwebs filled the room. It must’ve been sealed for years, it looked completely untouched, either the ruinlings never found this area or never cared enough to go past the door. They didn’t seem like readers, so it makes sense. I spent… hours flipping through the ancient books. Most were in a language that seems like it’s almost what I could read, but just different enough that I could make only a few words out. The light from the brazier above me turned to a golden orange, and began to dim before I found what I needed, as I put a book back and went around to pick something new at random, and as I pulled it out, I saw a folded, weathered page fall out onto the ground. As I picked it up and read it, I got excited. A symbol of a tower, with a Lyre above it, was sketched out onto the corner of the page, and as my eyes gazed out over to the other side, there was the symbol of a library and an ancient building, perhaps a temple. Presumably, that was where I was. This was a symbol of a map, and I could use it to guide me to the temple. Between the two symbols, there were symbols, telling me to go east, follow through a door, then north, and through another door, before I would be at the tower. While it didn’t tell me much at all, and absolutely no idea on what was between me and the tower, at least I knew approximately where I had to go. Now I just had to get out of here. I also shoved several more books (The ones with the most intact spines and covers) into my burlap sack, betting these would be worth something to someone, or at least a neat gift or keepsake. As I pulled books off the shelves, one got caught, something stopped it as I pulled it out. For a moment, I pulled harder, before realizing it was fake, the pages were just a large chunk of wood. As I realized this, a deep stone grinding noise reverberated through the entire room, dust falling and the ground quaking. Then, just as quickly as it appeared, it stopped, and a part of the wall clicked lightly, and then gently swung open, revealing a tight set of spiral stairs.

I climbed the stairs, reaching what appeared to be a dead end, but was truly a fake door that swung open easily as I pushed it. I was back in the central room, with the engravings on the wall. However, what was also here was several ruinling corpses, smashed and broken. What could have done this, I asked myself, before turning to see Castlello, my purple cloak stuck on it’s roof and it’s body marked deeply by new scratch marks. As it saw me, It bounced between it’s legs in excitement, and toddled up to me, playing a happy note from the music box within. It had defeated all the ruinlings? I counted five, excluding the one I had fought. “Hey buddy… you t. I shuffled through my bags, and pulled it out, and I swear Castlello recognized what it was, as it opened the door that I called it’s mouth, and marched towards me. I supposed it knew what it was doing, and I deposited the piece. It closed, and I heard it’s inner mechanisms working, before going quiet, and then producing an incredibly bright light from within, illuminating the whole room in powerful white light. It seemed happy about, this, and turned to me. Castlello seemed like it was waiting for something, so after a few moments I clapped, smiled at it, and gave it a thumbs up, which seemed to satisfy it’s look. “Alright, buddy, I don’t know why you didn’t follow me, but you did good. Let’s get out of here.” doing alright?” I asked, rhetorically, before remembering the piece I had found for it

I left the same way I came, and saw it had fallen into night out here. I can’t believe today was just one day. My shoulder hurt, and I finally finished the now cold tea Lila had made for me. I know she isn’t far but she feels forever away, and I mourn that I will likely never see her again. My journey is taking me further and further away, and I need to embrace my solitude. But I’ll do that tomorrow. Tonight, I found that she put some ointments in my travel bags, and use them to patch myself back up, smelling the powerful medicine and thinking of her. And of home. I wonder if this is how Mom feels right now? Maybe she’s helping someone out there, being a hero.

[lostincoloste]

Act One, Chapter 3

Day 5:

I awoke much later than I intended to. What I had intended to do was awake before morning, and slip out without saying anything. I know, I know, unkind. But saying goodbye is so hard, when I know I’ll likely never come back. I got up and stretched, my body complaining with sharp shards of pain shooting through my body, but quickly dull as I continue to move. The house was warm, and cozy. I could hear the gentle crackle of a fir in the main room, and smell the earthy scents amidst an undertone of medicinal herbs and blends, almost functioning like a smelling salt and jolting me awake.

The main room was cozy, dried herbs and flowers on the walls, jars and pots and containers of every possible plant one can find, all meticulously labeled and clearly sorted. I shambled in, and couldn’t hold back a small smile when I saw Lila, who was tracing her fingerts along the runes engraved in Castlello’s body. “Good morning, sleepy” she softly said to me, turning her head to look at me from the side of her eye. “This one was worried about you, y’know. They really care for you.” She looked back at Castlello. “Do they have a name?” “Castlello.” I said, a little curt. I’d never heard anyone refer to a rook or rookling like it was a living thing, anything more than a simple construct powered by some weird magic. “It’s been with me since I was a kid, woke up one day out of the old family heirloom room and walked up to me.” I could tell she caught my choice of pronoun for Castlello, and for a second I saw something in her expression, disappointment? “Well, they’re a good caretaker for you. I saw how they they saved your life from the Rook yesterday. I truly think you would have died had Castlello here not rushed in for you.” I stood for a few seconds, in silence, before she turned, and smiled at me. “I made you some more nettle tea, for the pain.” She offered me a metal cannister, sealed shut. “O-oh, thanks. You didn’t have to-” “I know I didn’t have to” She said, smugly. “But you saved my life, I probably owe you more than I’ve given” She cut me off “I really don’t-” “Just take the damn tea and some breakfast, and get going, or else I’m gonna be forced to put on my doctor hat and make you stay longer to fully heal!” “Er, right m’am” I tried to match her joking tone, but for me it was a facade. I wanted to tell her that I wanted to stay. That my body hurt and I was lonely, and she made me feel better. I think I’m not made to be a solo traveler, with how bitingly lonely it gets. I took the tea, and sat down with her to eat what she had cooked. Let me tell you, there is nothing quite like a well seasoned mix of roasted squash and potato. I’d kill a rook any day if that was the reward. I devoured it like it was the cure to all that ails me. Lila watched and smirked at me, and picked at her food with her fork. Fork. I was eating with my hands, like I’d forgotten how to be civilized in the 3 days I’d been on my own. When she saw me realize, she laughed, and then we laughed together.

Outside was significantly less cozy. I wrapped my cloak around myself better as the breeze was still cold enough to bite; and as I stepped out, my boots made a crunching noise beneath my feet, as I unexpectedly stepped out into a light dusting of snow. My breath swirled like smoke through the air, and Castlello began walking in circles to make designs, or maybe simply because it liked the feeling of snow under it. I didn’t know, and I’d never really thought about it. The fallen rook on the street almost looked peaceful with the dusting of snow over it, and had a sense of beauty. Terrifying beauty, as I felt the bruises on my body, but some form of beauty nonetheless. I walked over to it, taking long strides to get to my sword, and secured it to my back. I knew my direction; ruins, towards the nearest pillar. I took a deep breath, and looked around at the village, taking it in and remembering it, before starting to walk towards the massive pillar I could see in the near distance, climbing into the heavens and disappearing.

Luckily, nothing stood in my path as I trudged towards the ruins, like the Colostle itself was willing to give me a break. It was easier to leave home, since I know I’ll be back, than it was to leave Rovalley. I’ll likely never be able to find the secluded village again. Hopefully they remember me, though I imagine with a literal monument to my victory in the rook husk I left behind, there will be some piece of me imprinted in the town forever. I smiled to myself, and turned to Castlello. “Heroes, buddy. You ‘n me, big damn heroes.” And I’m not sure if it understood, but it felt right to let it in on my thoughts. Sure enough, after a few hours of travel, the ruins stood in front of me, jagged and broken, like a broken bone sticking out of someone. The ancient stone walls were weathered, and covered in moss and vines, lichen and weeds growing through the cracks. The ruins themself were partially submerged in a small lake, the rippling water distorting the reflections of the trees around me and the grey clouds above me, heavy with snow and blotting out the brazier altogether. I couldn’t even see the tops of many of the trees. In front of me stood a dark doorway, an archway leading down into a thick inky darkness, some long forgotten place left alone for perhaps centuries. As I approached, the carvings on the walls stood out to me. As Lila had described, there was old faded carvings of Rooks, a legion of them, depicted as running away from a carving of a village, that looked like some sort of… I want to say Harp, or Lyre instrument. That’s not what I was expecting when I felt so sure it was a weapon in my vision. Was it? I never truly saw what it was, just knew it as a concept. I Feel lost about it, but if it can control or scare away Rooks, I need it. I took a swig of my tea, somehow still warm, to brace myself for descending into this underground. Then, I lit my torch, and held it aloft in front of me, and began to step into the unknown.

[lostincoloste]

Act one, Chapter 2

Day 4: It took damn near all day, but I clambered down from that door, the stairs behind me nearly crumbling from years of use, the air seemingly getting colder as what I began calling the Frosted Forest. The trees had pale blue-green pines growing on branches and trunks of nearly black brown bark, growing massively tall, hundreds of feet into the air, and many with trunks wider than I could wrap my arms around. It was like walking through the world from the eyes of a bug, the same sense of awe you feel when you think about how big the world is. The feeling of a cloudless day when you can look up to the Rafters, a reminder of how much is out there, and it boggles your brain. That’s about what I was thinking, when a deep guttural growl roared out behind me, the kind you feel in your skull and chest before you hear it. The beast that approached was unlike any common animal I’d seen. I’d heard of the creatures further out from the village, but nothing could have prepared me for the first time I felt like the rabbit in an open field; It had a crocodillian head, emitting the terrifying growl at me, massive powerful feathered wings pulled into it’s side as it dove down to catch it’s prey, me. With a small horn blow from within it, Castlello had unfolded one of it’s arms, revealing the hidden mini ballista at the end of it’s arm, and launched one of it’s rope connected bolts with pinpoint accuracy, the bolt embedding a strong rope into the croco-hawk. With a small shift of it’s weight, Castlello yanked on the rope connecting it to the creature, which was forced into a nosedive right into the cold dirt. This gave me the chance to try my new weapon, and I swung the ball and chain in a small circle a few times, charging up it’s electric power, before slamming it down with as much strength as I could muster, right onto the grounded monster, which it crashed into with a dull thud and a sharp thundering noise, killing the creature and partially cooking it, I assume.

The hide of the creature was actually remarkably tough, and I held onto it after washing it as much as I could at the moment, wrapping it tightly and hanging it from the side of one of my travel packs. The feathers would also probably make good fletching, and it was big enough that I could get many meals out of it. Normally I’d gather it’s teeth and claws, but I didn’t have time to carve them into jewellery, so I offered an apology to it’s spirit, for not making use of all that I could. With a small nod, I got up, and breathed in the chilly air, and something caught my attention: smoke. Either there was some sort of fire in the forest, which was unlikely, or there was a camp, maybe a village nearby! People! Perhaps a healer to help my shoulder. I told Castlello, out of a habit to say things out loud to it when I’m alone, but something weird happened. It let out a small whistle, and then a cute jingle from it’s music box, and began marching quickly towards the nearest pillar. I called out to it, but all it did was slam it’s doors at me and keep marching on, so I had to follow. And it set a gruelling pace as we marched, and in all the times I tried to call out or communicate with it, it just kept slamming it’s doors at me, defiantly. But ere long, I could tell it was on to something, the smell of smoke was getting stronger, and not just smoke, the smell of roasting meat, an incredible smell when one has been living off dry jerky and berried for the last few months, since no hunting could be done with the Rooks around the village. What was a march became a run.

After about an hour of travel, I could see the village, really no more than a row of houses and a handful not in a row at the end of the small clearing, but with people, and food! I was not very good at this lonely travel thing! I probably looked crazy, or threatening, and as I got through the tree-line, I was able to stop, being finally here. I stopped for breath, squatting down and putting my hands on my knees. My lungs were sore and my shoulder ached badly, but I didn’t get to rest long. Something within the trees was moving quickly and powerfully, breaking through and shaking the trees and the underbrush. A rook that looked like a small castle tower with arms and legs came crashing through the trees and at the village, putting the top of it’s tower down and charging.

I charged in too, grabbing the ball and chain attached to my belt, hefting the ball into a spin, the rookstone glowing and charging the weapon. I wasn’t going to make it in time, and the Rook was about to charge down some poor woman. Moving quickly, I hefted my hood arm and swung the the ball around faster a few final times to gather momentum, before tossing the electrified chained ball, blue electricity arced off of the metal as it flew through the air, and I swear the arcs of lightning arced out and pulled the ball into the body of this tower rook, slamming into it with a powerful crash and a crack of thunder, which threw the charging thing off, making it tumble to the ground off it’s balance. But it landed with practice, and was in a charging position towards me now, it’s powerful legs shaking the earth as it barrelled towards me. I tried to dive out of the way, but I was too slow, and underestimated it’s reflexes. What was me attempting to dive out of it’s path became me getting slammed into the ground by one of it’s stone hands, crushing and winding me. As I was getting up, it was already throwing another attack at me, it’s other fist coming at me like a battering ram. I didn’t even have time to think, I was about to be paste, when Castlello charged in, slamming it’s whole dense body into the side of the the stone fist coming at me, making the rook punch a crater into the ground beside me, dirt and grass going everywhere. Gathering myself, I pulled the giant sword off my back, and with an overhead swing, crushed the flat side of the blade down through the stone arm in front of me, severing it. The beast reeled back, a groaning coming from deep within, but Castlello was faster, and had launched it’s rope-bolts into the front of the rook, both impaling deep into the stones of the rook, and Castlello set it’s feet into the dirt and pulled back, pulling the rook back off balance. The tower of stone came crashing down towards me, and I took a knee, holding my sword up, letting the momentum of the beast falling impale it onto my sword. It crashed down, the sound of breaking rock, shearing metal and breaking machinery cried out, almost like a shriek, before slowing down and stopping, the last great chugs and hefts of whatever was inside coming to a stop.

My whole body hurt. The type of pain you feel in your bones, where you know this is gonna be a problem for a long time. I took a few minutes, my bad arm feeling like it was on fire and my knees barely supporting me, and I dug my sword into the ground to use as a support to stand. The village had gone quiet, everyone looking at me and the beast with bated breath. I rose, wiping the blood and dirt from my face, and as I got to my feet, I heard what sounded like a victorious rapid double ring of a bell from within Castlello, and the villagers that had gathered round cheered. My ears were still ringing and felt stuffy, so they all just turned into a dull white noise. As I looked around, I lamented that I wasn’t fast enough, the Rook had torn through a building already, the stone and wood structure collapsed in on itself where the rook tore through, and scattered around where it came out. I was shaken from my distraction when someone came up to me, and shook my hand, saying something I didn’t catch. I looked to them; she was the villager I’d saved. My head felt full of cotton balls as I looked at her; she was saying something to me, he expressive dark hazel eyes wrinkling at the corner as she said something again. I shut my eyes, and shook my head, focusing on hearing. “-incredibly dangerous! Thank you!” She finished, words still being drowned out by the excitement of the small crowd. “What?” I eloquently replied, my word slurred a little but “You saved my life! I-I thought that was it!” She still sounded like she was shaken, which, obviously. I tried to take a deep breath in, and caught a whiff of Juniper coming from her before I winced and coughed, my injuries getting in the way of trying to seem like a cool, stoic hero. “Are you okay?” she quickly asked, as I bent over in half and struggled to breath “P-peachy…” I wheezed out, trying to grin and set her and the now concerned crowd at ease. “Just need a few-” I winced again “Few minutes to rest. Maybe a few hours. Any place a traveller can stay?” I asked, trying to slowly stand up straight “That bloody thing took out our inn!” Some man from the crowd yelled out, belonging to a a larger man, tall and large with a greying beard to match his greying hair. “And my favourite bar! And my house! And my business!” he yelled more. I didn’t see more than one building broken, but this thing must’ve caused a lot more destruction than I’d seen. “I’m sorry-” I started, before he cut me off “Don’t be, it only destroyed the one building!” He said, with a dark smirk on his face, and I realized the joke. I went to laugh with him, since that was clearly how he was processing this attack, and then winced and coughed again. The woman in front of me winced in empathy, and put her arm under mine, pulling me to lean on her “C’mon, you can rest up at my house. I’m the village healer, I’m used to taking care of wounded.” She stated, matter of factly. I dropped my sword, and luckily Castlello picked it up for me, propping it against the fallen rook.

I barely remember getting to her house, and I do not remember being undressed to my small clothes, and bandaged up. I looked like I was being prepped for ritual burial, the amount of bandages she covered me in. “Salves and ointments, they’re gonna take down the bruising and swelling; and we want them all on your skin, so we covered all the bruising and injuries with my ointments and salves, and then cover it all with bandage so it doesn’t rub off. Everything goes well, you should be right as rain, or well, better than you were after you get a good long rest.” She told me, seeing me examine all of the bandages on my body, and making faces as the smells of the various open pots and jars around me. She wouldn’t let me get up and move around, and honestly, I was more doing it to put on the show of a stoic hero again. My body hurt so badly. But at her protests, I say back down on the cot she lent me, and we spoke. Her name was Lila, and the village was called Rovalley, after a founding family. Apparently, back in her grandmothers day, there was a proper road through here, maintained by some lord, but the soldiers stopped coming and work stopped being done years ago, and the forest overgrew any path or trail. Most people in the village never left the area, only hunting beasts in the nearby woods, and foraging what they needed. She gave me a tea made of the nettles of the trees around us, and laughed at me when she saw me control my face at the pungent bitter taste, before offering me honey to sweeten it. Her laugh was one you wanted to join in with, regardless of her laughing at you. I told her of my journey so far, and she nodded solemnly when I mentioned the corridor filled with mushrooms; “Visageshrooms” she called them “Very dangerous things, if not treated properly, the spores can overtake a person in a few days.” To which I thanked my luck once again that I had found potions that cleared it out of my system. Her people never travelled through there, due to the mushrooms, the danger of climbing the stairs, and stories of ambushes by bandits in and around the corridor.

Her village apparently told stories of the danger of the other side too, which was mostly wrong. They told of dangerous lands where giant spiders roamed the forest and people worked for massive rooks as caretakers and cultists; which caught my ear. We discussed the person I had seen the other day, with the robes, and confirmed that’s where the stories came from. She said that her mother, when Lila was a child, had taken in one of these cultists, who rambled in his sleep while her mother healed him, but he took off in the night, stealing poisonous herbs and healing poultices. I had been avoiding talking of my village, or even thinking of home, but I needed to ask her if she knew anything about my vision. I told her of the tower I saw, like a dead massive rook, bigger than anything I’d seen. With some sort of… weapon inside it, something that I can use to help save my village. She tenderly looked at me with a look of sympathy as I explained what had happened to my village, why I left, and she took one of my fidgeting hands into hers and squeezed. “I’m sorry, Niamh. I haven’t seen what you’re looking for, but I know it’s not near here. But” she piped up a bit, “there is a set of ruins nearby that might be helpful. I’ve never been, but those who have said it has carvings of what they think is some sort of ancient hero, banishing or defeating rooks. If there’s a legend about it, it might be the thing you need?” Her voice was almost desperate to help, and I was touched by her kindness, her empathy. Before I had known it, the brazier was dark, well past a proper time to sleep. We had been talking, telling stories and laughing. She was remarkably easy to talk to, and she made me laugh even though I was trying not to. She’d apologize each time she made me laugh, as I’d laugh then wince and cough. As the night drew on, my heart began to ache; I had to leave. My village needed me, and I was wasting time. I might never come back. I didn’t say anything, and when she realized the time, she made a small noise of surprise, and apologized for keeping me up. She lingered for a few moments, gathering the jars around me and the teacups, stealing glances at me as I stole them at her, catching each other and smirking and giggling, like young girls at a slumber party. Then she left, into the other room of her house to sleep, and I passed out the second I let my head hit the pillow. Pain is exhausting.

[lostincoloste]

Act 1, Chapter One:

Day 1: The Rook jolted me awake, catching me by surprise as the electrified ball slammed into me, truly only glancing my shoulder, but feeling like a full cannon blast. The Rook was a hulking mass of stone and wood, looming over me, tattered banners and cloth hanging from it. My body tensed and I jump back several feet, backpedaling onto my heels. As Castello, my Rookling companion, was still getting up and shaking itself awake, the Rook launched another chain at me, but I was ready for this time. I dodged the chain with a deft sidestep, and it went flying helplessly through the air behind me before retracting back to the Rook; a time I used to catch the chain and dig my heels into the ground, yanking it with all my might, the Rook’s aim. The Rook tried to shoot me with the electrified ball and chain, but I dodged, placing a nearby tree in between myself and the rook. The ball hit the tree, splintering it nearly to pieces. The wood groaned and swayed, ready to fall with even a slight push, which gave me an idea. I still had one chain in my hand, and the other was still in front of me, about to retract. I threw the one in my hand around the other with all the might I could muster, twisting the heavy iron chains together. As the Rook retracted the chains it snagged the tree, and with a groan the mighty oak toppled, directly on top of and through the Rook. I breathed a sigh of relief, and a grin of triumph grew on my face. I looked to Castlello, who finally was on its feet and was ready to fight, and laughed. Of course it was ready now, as opposed to ten seconds ago. The Rook sputtered and fell dormant, or dead if you prefer. The ache of my shoulder reminded me I wasn’t unscathed, and I could barely lift my arm. Of course my dad was right and I got hurt. I knew I had to press on, and thus went to work seeing what I could pull from the ruin. I searched the Rook's shattered remains and found a crystal that powered its electric attacks, along with a pile of vibrant cloth. I quickly fashioned a sling and cloak from the cloth, using more of the cloth ripped into strips to secure everything to Castlello. I put some more of my travel bags on Castlello that I had planned to, but my shoulder injury meant I wasn’t going to be able to carry as much as I wanted to; and it was a decent sport about it, and only grumpily shook its shutters at me a bit. With Castlello’s help, we pried open some of the chain, and made it much shorter and lighter, suitable for me to use as a weapon. I secured the stone to my belt with a strap, and tied the chain around my hunting hook for easy access. Feeling prepared, I began walking with Castlello, whistling and lamenting my slower speed caused by injury and frequent rests needed.

Something I had failed to really reckon was that I have no idea where I’m going. My vision showed me a far off tower, taller than anything I’d seen. But as the horizon stretched on, all I could see were the walls I’d known my whole life, the towering forest to the east, and the foggy emptiness of the western ocean. I elected to search the forest, it was the opposite of the direction the Rooks came from and most likely to hide a tower, without having to brave the walls. The way the forest covers the light of the brazier makes it all feel... spooky. Like I’m a kid in one of dad’s fairy tales, and I’ve lost home. I mean, I’m not alone alone, Castlello’s near constant noises remind me that it’s with me; and every now and then one of its windows swings open and the tinny sound of a little music box rings out. I think it’s entertaining itself, and can see it’s feet shuffle and move like it’s trying to move with rhythm. I had no idea it did that, or a rookling could be capable. Hopefully this is confined to Rooklings, I don’t wanna see what a full sized Rook with this sort of mind could do. As the Brazier began to dim, the forest sounds went quiet with a loud crack of a branch from the distance, and I saw someone run in front of me, looking manic, wearing a yellow robe emblazoned with a symbol of a castle. I tried to yell out to him, something about being friendly, but my words got jumbled as I hadn’t spoken since yesterday and my thoughts moved faster than my mouth. It didn’t matter, as he ran away, and threw what looked like coloured crystals on the ground behind him, In my path. Luckily Castlello stepped on one, a blue crystal, and it shattered into a thick chunk of ice. Castlello struggled, and after a few seconds, moved its thick legs and broke out from the ice. I was still moving slower than usual, a benefit from my morning shock therapy; and managed to just be slow enough to avoid getting blasted by the rumble crystals blast that would’ve definitely knocked me clean onto my ass; but the robed man was getting away. I threw my hunting knife at him, more hoping that it might distract him since it was not balanced for a good throw, but my luck held out as it landed squarely in his leg, digging deep enough that he cried out and fell. I caught up to him as he was trying to get up, and pushed him onto his back, and whistled and nodded for Castlello to come and stand over the man; the looming height and weight of my rookling essentially locking the man in place. I asked him why he ran, where he was going, but he didn’t answer me, and instead said the creepiest thing I’ve heard: “Flesh is a lie, Stone is pure. When all is stone, all will be true!” I tried asking him more questions, but he put a purple bundle of herbs in his mouth and started rapidly chewing, and within seconds his eyes fluttered closed. I checked his pulse, which had already weakened, lasting only a few minutes until it went flat. Who was he? I think that sounded like some sort of Cult motto, and I don’t know if he didn’t want to be found by me specifically or by anyone, but he clearly was hiding something. I patted down his robes; which felt wrong but if he possibly knew anything about my vision I couldn’t risk not finding something because I got the ick. Luckily I did, too, he had a weird hand drawn map, with drawings of specific trees and vague instructions leading to what looks like a staircase; I think this is the lead I needed! He also had a few solid silver and gold rook pieces, highly sought after by traders and anyone who works on Rook mechanisms, which is a score!

And honestly, the map was surprisingly useful, the trees that it showed were surprisingly distinct and with only a few hours of backtracking, I’d found the stairs. They went high, but I could see a part of the wall the jut out and the stairs went into; hopefully there was an opening there too but it was too high up and the brazier had dimmed to just a cool light; there was no way of seeing where these stairs really led. I know Castlello probably doesn’t get tired what with being powered by magic and not having muscles, but it seemed relieved when I dropped the bags from mine and it’s backs, and it plopped down with a mighty thud and promptly drew the curtains behind its windows, and was soon non responsive. I set up a small lean to against the stairs, and ate a bit more of the jerky and berries I had brought, though I would have to hunt soon; if I didn’t find a town to rest at. Day 2: Today wasn’t worth writing about. I climbed stairs all day, and I stink of sweat and dirt. I tried to appreciate the view from the midpoint of the stairs, until I saw my town. Stonebrook had attracted another Rook, this one was massive too. Like the wall of a fortress, it had plopped itself into the creek that ran through town, and split the town in two, and made passing through to the other side impossible. I didn’t look after that. But at the top, I found a very small door, leading into a dark hallway, roofed and until by the Brazier. I’ll journey in tomorrow; at least it’s too small for a rook to follow me. Day 3:

The air had smelled weird there, musty, and a little sour. Luckily, the bioluminescent mushrooms that dotted that corridor had kept it easy to see. I had run into somebody else that day; at first, I had been terrified. He had looked like a human-sized Rook, carrying a massive hammer, until I had gotten closer and had seen that he had just been wearing armor fashioned from a fallen Rook. He had also seemed spooked, as when I had called out to him, he had screamed and had pulled out his hammer, holding it in front of himself defensively. I hadn’t approached, as I hadn’t wanted to fight anyone, and he had been backing away, despite the fact that my hands had been clearly in the air. He had yelled something in a language I hadn’t understood and had kept backing up before breaking into a dead sprint. I hadn’t known what had him so spooked. Hopefully, he hadn’t come back with goons, or maybe I could have met him again and cleared things up. I had felt somewhat ill, thinking that there had been something up with the air in that corridor. I had known that I had only been journeying for three days, but I had missed talking to people. Castlello hadn’t been a good conversationalist and had seemed to disagree with me on many fronts, if I had interpreted the door slamming sound correctly. I had wished that mom had told me how she had communicated with her Rooklings. Hopefully, I had found her soon. It had been the mushrooms! I had walked past one, and it had had a light puff, spores shooting into the air. Its luminescent color had changed for a moment to a soft pink, and then I had felt violently ill. My brain had felt fuzzy, and I had sworn that Castlello had been speaking to me, saying some very rude things about the animals we had seen the other day and yelling about chivalry and honor. I had had to sit down, and Castello had toddled off without me. I hadn’t had any idea how much time had passed before it had come back, but when it had, it had carried glowing blue liquid in a bottle balanced in its mouth/drawbridge. It had nudged me until I had taken the bottle, and then it had nudged me more until I had drunk it. It had tasted foul, like rotten food mixed with hot sauce! I hadn’t been able to handle the flavor, and it had made me sick, vomiting a glowing sick. Once I had finished getting sick, my head had been clear, and I had been able to see about fifty paces ahead of me, where a long-dead skeleton had been with a belt full of these glowing potions. I had guessed that Castlello hadn’t been gone for very long, since the belt had been short one bottle. After a couple of seconds, I had risen to my feet, still feeling bad but no longer tripping out. I had noticed again that my vomit had been glowing and had tiny mushrooms in it, which had been concerning. Hopefully, this alchemist had figured out a permanent solution with their potions. I had grabbed the rest and had kept walking in ill silence until I had gotten to the end of the corridor. It had been hard to tell time in dark passages, and the brazier had been a soft red as I had emerged, which had worked for me. I had been exhausted. Another great forest had stretched out in front of me, unfamiliar and colder than the one downstairs. Bluish-green pine trees had risen high into the sky, the pine needles had glistened and had been touched by frost, and the forest had expanded as far as I could see. At least Rooks hate forests... I whistled as I made my camp on the stair-edge, uncertain of myself. This was the farthest I’d ever been from home, the only person who went farther was mom and Skully, the tradesman. And now me. And I’d slain a Rook, and passed through a wall! I felt that somewhere, my mom could feel what I’d done and was proud of me.

[lostincoloste]

Prelude:

When Castlello awoke and toddled towards me, my mom told me I was very lucky, and that it only had done that to a few others in our family. She also told me that it meant that I was meant to be a Rook hunter, like her. I never saw what was so special about a rookling, as she had and lost many in the years before she went on her last hunting trip. But as I got older and learned that many Rooklings didn’t choose their partners, and were instead chosen, I understood why Castlello choosing of me was special.

Today, one of the Rooks that settled in around the village started nesting in Vata’s farm, ruining the crop. That’s a lot more hungry people that won’t be fed, again.

I know it broke Dads heart when he saw me taking my sword, a packed bag, and Castlelllo. I’ve told him about my dreams, and I know there’s a weapon out there that I can use to save our village, and I had to leave today if there was going to be any village left to save. Plus, mom is out there; the village closest was destroyed by the wandering herd of Rooks that settled in around home, but no sign of her was found from any of the hunters we asked to look. Even if she’s gone, I need that closure. And so does dad, even if he’s pretending that he’s alright. Everyone relies on him, and he can’t let anyone know that he’s more terrified than anyone. When I left he held back tears and I told him I would write and send messages with every messenger I saw, and that I’d be ok with Castlello at my side. Even Castlello seemed to agree, since when I said that it seemed to shutter and lock all it’s windows and doors, like a promise to protect me. But I didn’t make it far from the village, just far enough out into the hills to be away from the Rooks, and then I had to make camp. Leaving home is hard. My journey starts in proper tomorrow.

[kurachk]

#castlello #miramare #mare #adriatico #park #italia #🇮🇹 (в Castello di Miramare)

[kurachk]

Замок Мирамаре) сказать честно? Одновременно напомнил мне Ласточкино гнездо и Воронцовский Алупкинский дворец)))) 😂😜 #castlello #miramare #adriatico #mare #italy #italia #friuliveneziagiulia #europe #sea #seashore

[kurachk]

#friuliveneziagiulia #italia #italy #castle #castlello #miramare #🇮🇹 #sea #seashore #summer #travel #eurotrip #europe

[kurachk]

#castlello #miramare #castle #sea #seashore #italia #Italy #travel

[kurachk]

#friuliveneziagiulia #castlello #miramare #mare #adriatico #sun #summer #sea #travel #tiamoitalia

[kurachk]

и все же я по уши влюбилась в Италию😘🇮🇹 #trieste #miramare #castlello #sea #seashore #travel #eurotrip

[kurachk]

#castlello #Miramare #Trieste #castle #sea #seashore #ladyinred #instatrip #bella #italia #🇮🇹