"You realize that our mistrust of the future makes it hard to give up the past."
― Chuck Palahniuk, Survivor
"Everything seems normal…" Christopher leaned over Rafe's shoulder and took in the large fortress town. Humans and Beastfolk alike bustled through the fortified gateway, with a large number of soldiers on the walls.
"Not even close," Rafe shivered as he watched the people in the valley below. Their movements lacked the drive that explorers of the labyrinth should have. "There's no life in their eyes…"
Rafe shook his head and retreated from the overhang of stone. Even in the grasp of war, the dungeoneers always had a sharp edge of life and hope. Now, these people were only going through the motions. A half effort that didn't fit with the nature of their jobs.
"You wait up here, thunder feet," Rafe glanced at his oversized companion. Christopher would stand out like a sore thumb. "I'm going to slip in and take a closer look…"
A twist of his feet and the Halfling slid down the cliffside, body cloaked from sight. Something has smothered the spirit of these people… replaced their adventurer's hearts with a leaden despair.
"They're worse up close," Rafe frowned as he hesitated near the end of the line to enter. Hard lined faces with emptied eyes, not a smile in sight. "It's too bad it's been so long, all of my old contacts are probably dead."
A million years was a long time, and most beings lacked the talent to escape mortality. Rafe let a sigh slip past his lips as he glided unnoticed past the guards. Very few of his friends in the greater world had even approached the level of a semi-divine. It would be a miracle if he found someone from the old days.
Rafe moved through dreary streets, unseen and invisible as he picked his way toward the slums. The people here seemed much the same, furtive and hungry. His feet carried him to a ramshackle bar, barely four walls and a roof to keep out the rain.
"I can't believe it's still here," Rafe opened the door, just enough to squeeze through. Dingy air, stale unwashed bodies, everything was as he remembered. "Even the broken floor…"
He'd shattered that panel himself, during a job for the guild. An easy assassination that had led to a lifelong friendship. This building should have turned to dust, yet here it was, in all its tarnished glory. A creak of wood announced the return of the bartender, another familiar sight.
Rafe took in the bear sized human as if he was in a dream. Argon, his friend, still lived. The same salt and pepper hair, thick despite his age. Faded tattoos from the man's day's as a bandit, and wide belly that brushed the bar that was his livelihood. The only thing absent was any trace of the big man's smile.
"Last call, I've got business," Argon growled to the silent patrons. A series of grunts that signalled a final round of ale. The barkeep passed out the last drink, then shoved the contents of the register into his wide brimmed apron. "Close up when everyone's done, Tommy, any extra drinks come out of your tab!"
Argon forced his bulk through the tightly packed tables, past Rafe and out the front door. The Halfling followed in his old friend's shadow, confused. The big man was on a direct path to the centre of town, the government buildings that housed the forces of various empires.
"What are you up to…" Rafe frowned as Argon pushed his way into the hall of justice, a building once managed by the guild. Now it held an unknown flag, a mirror covered in a thousand eyes. "What could make a lord of the underground visit the government he despised?"
– – – –
"We're at the bottom of an ocean…" Lyra negated the press of the depths and squinted up at the shadows above. Water extended in all directions, beyond the limits of their perceptions. "There are some big creatures out there, but I can't find the surface."
Mountainous shadows drifted through the darkness, draconic eels with bioluminescent markings. Silver sholes of house sized cuttlefish filled the ocean with the illusion of a midnight sky. Far in the distance, at the very edge of her senses, a whale opened its maw and drew in the wildlife around it.
Bigger than a moon, its gulp shifted her forward as the water rushed towards the beast. Both Cain and Lucifer stepped up and took hold of the ocean around them, an island of stability at the edge of a mighty vortex.
"These creatures are all above Earth Deities in power, and that whale…" Cain's face split in a merciless grin, an aura of red around his shoulders as he gripped the hilt of his knife. "I think it's as strong as a low level True God."
"Indeed," Lucifer licked his lips, hungry eyes filled with black light. "I can also sense something stronger, in the darkness below."
"We should stick together," Brull frowned as Excalibur projected an image of their surroundings into his mind. "I can see a bunch of big squids, well below us, and then…" The cat-kin shook his head. "It could be the ocean floor, but it's ink black…"
"First one to reach the bottom get's first pick of the seafood we collect!" Lyra let Fenrir rise up, just under the surface of her skin. The shadow of a wolf flickered behind her eyes as she blitzed forward, toward the oversize whale.
"No upstart youngling is going to steal my food!" Cain barked out a laugh and sprinted after the wolf-kin, knife extended into the form of a scythe. "I'll take this kill, and every one after, but I'll still be the first to the ground!"
Lucifer snorted and glided after the pair, hand wrapped around a sword of black fire. Only Brull remained, his warning ignored. A deep furrow creased his brow, hand on his sword. Excalibur tasted something in these waters, a bitter reek that tickled a primal instinct. Here was an enemy, a challenge to hone their edge for the wars to come.
"Let's go," Brull muttered to his sword. "These idiots are definitely going to find the nearest source of trouble and shake it loose…"