Episode 1: Escape to Ithoro

Auberon could not believe he was doing this. Heart pounding, chest heaving, the young Iphuan scrambled through the labyrinthian catacombs. Once a home for Ithoro’s forgotten dead, it was now a hideout for practitioners of illegal magic. Bruises bloomed along his arms and blood stained the knees of his trousers. Auberon swore under his breath he would escape the Necroguild or die trying.

The winding stone corridors were illuminated solely by the lavender glow of the enchanted sconces. The eerie light danced over the uneven walls of stone, embedded with rune carved skulls. Pools of murky water splashed as Auberon ran through them, soaking his thin shoes. He was noseblind to the smell of decay and mildew that lingered in the dim chambers.

Howling echoed through the halls behind Auberon. His time was running out. His vision darkened along the edges and his heart pounded in his tufted ears. Tears of panic welled up in his eyes as he skimmed through his memory. The exit had to be in this direction.

“There you are!”

A hand gripped Auberon’s dirty blonde hair like a talon. The other clamped on his thin arm. Auberon screamed and kicked desperately as the robed figure simply grinned. “Looks like I’ve found the Master’s lost pet.”

“Let go!” Auberon jammed his free elbow into his captor’s thigh, but the larger Iphuan didn’t even feel it. He managed to catch a glimpse of the face under the hood. “Marian,” Auberon stammered, “please don’t take me back.”

Marian’s grin did not fade. It was the same grin Auberon remembered from when they were just urchins. A grin he’d make whenever they found food. “You really want to go back to Ithoro? Abandon those who have cared for us? Undo all of your progress?”

Auberon gritted his teeth, green eyes burning behind the tears, “you want to keep being lied to?”

Marian’s grip tightened.

“That’s enough, Greenstone.” A smooth voice echoed down the hall. Sorceress Clia stepped into view. Her jet black eyes locked with Marian’s. Her platinum blonde hair contrasted with the black and burgundy of her elite robes.

“Mistress Clia,” Marian bowed his head, “I have found your brother’s apprentice.”

Auberon shuddered. This was it. Soon, he’d be back in the cage, vulnerable to his master’s wrath. No, Auberon thought. Not again…

The tips of his fingers burned and his vision grew hazy. Something was ready to be unleashed. If only he knew how to unleash it.

“Let him go.” Clia commanded, gaze sharp. “I’ll take him to Boyix.” Her tone left no room for questions. The aspiring necromancer let Auberon sink to the floor.

“Yes, Mistress Clia,” Marian bowed his head once again and left. He never even looked back at Auberon.

“Come. We need to hurry.” Clia pulled Auberon to his feet. He tried to pull away, but her grip was firm. However, it was not cruel. “I can show you to the exit, but the rest is up to you.”

“You’re helping me?” Auberon whispered as he allowed himself to be pulled along. It took his longest strides to keep up with her.

Clia was quiet, the only sounds being their fast footsteps, the steady dripping of murky water, and the occasional shriek of pain echoing off in the distance. Clia poked her head around each corner before pulling Auberon around with her. It was nearing early morning, so many were still asleep.

Clia entered a dimly lit room and Auberon’s heart dropped. An opened corpse of an Iphuan lay sprawled on a stone table. A heart, most likely belonging to the corpse, sat in a jar. Shelves were lined with bottles of coagulated blood and various organs stored in cloudy fluid. Auberon froze in place, but was tugged forward.

“You can ignore that,” Clia muttered, ushering Auberon to the far corner of the macabre room. Auberon focused his gaze on Clia’s back, the only thing he felt was safe to look at. But a purple glow caught his attention. An amethyst crystal wrapped in a gold band sat on a plain, wooden desk next to a twine-bound notepad. A candle and some potted mushrooms had been placed in a desperate attempt to personalize the dull space. But the young Iphuan’s focus was the crystal. I could trade that.

Clia’s back was turned. Auberon’s free hand swiped the crystal in one smooth, practiced motion. It slid into his pocket as he disguised the theft as scratching an itch on his leg. Still gripping Auberon’s arm with one hand, Clia kicked open an askew slab in the corner with the pointed toe of her boot.

“Follow this, it will lead out of the catacombs. From there, you can find the main path to the city.”

Auberon stared into the dark abyss that was the claustrophobia inducing tunnel. He was still very confused. Is this a trap? Why would Mistress Clia help me? Does Master Boyix know about–

“Hurry up!” Clia hissed, “or do you want me to return you to Boyix?”

Auberon shook his head and ducked into the cramped space. Without another word, Clia slid the slab over the opening behind him. Ahead of him was pitch darkness, but it was at least a straight path. He crawled on his hands and knees into the dark. He dared not think about what he was touching. His sense of touch was bombarded with sliminess, stickiness, and wetness all at once. His scraped knees protested every movement of his crawling. The rhythm of his breathing was amplified. He closed his eyes and kept going.

The jagged walls pressed in on his boney shoulders and Auberon was forced into crawling on his belly. He couldn’t turn around even if he wanted to. Escape the Necroguild, or die trying. Auberon repeated in his head over and over again. Even when he could barely breathe, even when his heartbeat was the only sound he could hear, and even when he was drenched in the stagnant, mystery water he was forced to crawl through.

He reached forward and stone gave way to a fuzzy layer of fungal growth. He opened his eyes. Light! It was a strange mix of dim blues and purples, but he would take it. He dragged himself forward and was finally out of the tunnel. With a grunt, he pushed himself up on sore, aching legs.

Auberon took a deep breath, but found the air cool and humid. His eyes struggled to make out much of the surroundings. There was no sky, but a solid ceiling of stalactites. His only source of light came from the faint blue of bioluminescent worms and the strange glows of the tall fungal growths clinging to nearly every surface. He found himself in one of the many hidden caves within the surrounding mountains of Ithoro.

The Iphuan was utterly lost. No path in sight, just a wall of tree-like mushrooms and the occasional glowing worm or grotesquely large, eyeless salamander. His scraggly tail tucked instinctively around his leg. Off in the distance, he thought he heard water flowing, maybe that was the path? Before he could stand around for too long, that same howling from earlier echoed through the tunnel behind him, a red glow coming from within. Auberon sprinted into the fungal forest, the horror closing in fast.

Auberon sprinted, squeezing and climbing past stalagmites, stones, and trunk-like stems of massive mushrooms. He stumbled and rolled multiple times, slipping on ooze and mold, but he pushed on. The red glow reflected off the slick stone in front of him. They were closer. His legs burned and he was convinced he had cut his foot on something, but adrenaline kept him moving. One foot in front of the other was all he could focus on. That is, until there was nothing under the next step.

Auberon yelped, tumbling down a steep hill. The dimly lit world spun as he curled in on himself, landing hard at the bottom of a ravine. Blue exploded across his vision.

Auberon landed in a thick patch of bioluminescent mushrooms, most of which bursted into a blue mist when he landed. Auberon coughed and sputtered, struggling to his hands and knees, watery eyes seeing nothing but blue. He reached forward and felt a hand. A cold, stiff hand. He recoiled and rubbed his eyes.

A fellow Iphuan lying deathly still, head smashed against a jagged stone. Fungus and blue worms had already found him and were making a feast of his corpse. He wore the same Necroguild apprentice garb as Auberon. Hand over mouth, Auberon sobbed, staggered to his feet and ran.

The sense of time abandoned Auberon as he blindly scrambled through the cave. He wheezed and crashed into mushroom trunks, pushing himself through the nightmare. The howling grew louder and louder, the red glow brighter and brighter.

Auberon cried out in relief when he saw it. A faint necromantic rune carved into stone. White slime mold obscured most of the jagged symbol, but Auberon remembered enough to catch the meaning, “safety”. He was not the first Necroguild escapee.

Up ahead, was the source of the water noise. Auberon had reached the cave’s end only to find an opening in the wall high up. Water from the city and ice above streamed steadily into the cave, providing the minerals and nutrients to the enclosed ecosystem. Pale salamanders the size of Auberon’s leg sat content in the cool muck. If he was not running for his life, Auberon would have stopped to get a closer look at the bizarre creatures.

Growling. Red eyes illuminated the darkness of the cave behind him. “No!” Auberon rushed to the cave wall and frantically searched for a way to reach the top of the waterfall. He would have to climb. The stone was cold and slick to the touch. Auberon’s boney fingers cramped as he struggled to find a grip and pull himself up. His feet slipped several frantic times before they finally found a stable ledge.

Tears streamed down his face. His palms burned. The little Iphuan hardly had any strength for this. One by one, the spectral wolves stalked around the boy. Made of pure ectoplasm, the wolf-shaped specters glistened a blood-red. Auberon pulled himself up further, but he was only half-way up the wall. A wolf leapt and snapped its jaws on Auberon’s shoe. The jagged teeth would have taken his toes if it were not for the shoe being a couple of sizes too large for him. Auberon jerked his foot away, abandoning the shoe. The wolf growled and shook the shoe violently as it floated its way down the wall.

Auberon clawed his way up, arms shaking from fatigue and fingers going numb. The spectral wolves cared little for the laws of the corporeal realm and ascended to Auberon’s level. The larger one blocked Auberon’s exit while the three others surrounded him.

“After all I have done for you, this is how you thank me?” A deep, distorted voice boomed.

Auberon panted as he white knuckled the stone. “I’m done, Master Boyix. I never wanted any of this!” With that, he risked reaching into his pocket and hurled a handful of salt at the head wolf.

The wolf shrieked, its face melting into a sludge of red ectoplasm. The rest of its body struggled to regrow the head, staggering about, splattering glowing fluid across the walls. The rest of the wolves lunged. Auberon had more salt waiting for them.

Auberon flung the salt from his pocket at the wolves, hitting two of the wolves square in the face. However, he missed the third one. It swirled in the air and clamped down on his forearm. Auberon wailed and fought to stay on the wall. The wolf snarled and yanked to pull him down.

“You brat!” The voice snapped, “you’re making this more difficult than it needs to be!”

The wolf tightened its jaw, sinking the razor teeth further into the arm. Auberon cried out, unable to get the specter off of him. Blood ran from his arm, onto the ground below.

His fingertips burned once more, his vision blurred just like before with Marian. Auberon grit his teeth and closed his eyes. “I’m never going back!” He screamed. It finally unleashed. The blood from his arm hardened into deep red shards. They stabbed into the spectral wolf, dissolving the surrounding ectoplasm. The wolf let go long enough for Auberon to pull himself into the tunnel. He winced as the cold, running water rushed over the fresh wounds of his arm. The shards of blood broke off into the water, turning to liquid once again. He stood upright, slipped, splashed into the water, then attempted again.

His arm throbbed and his head spun as his vision grew spotty, but Auberon refused to let himself stop. It wouldn’t be long before the wolves were on him again. He finally found his footing and trudged further into the tunnel. The cold stung his exposed foot and soaked into his remaining shoe. Sniffling, Auberon desperately hoped he wouldn’t get frostbitten, an all too common affliction in Ithoro.

Adrenaline made it impossible for Auberon to tell how much time he spent running up through the winding tunnel. Up ahead, he finally saw a crack of dim light. For once, Auberon was thankful he was so thin as he managed to contort himself through the jagged opening. He made it to Ithoro’s sewers, a curse and a blessing.

Auberon’s already soaked body shivered instantly as he hauled himself onto a dry surface in the grimy, putrid tunnel. His time spent underground had made him forget how cold the city was. If the cold wasn’t going to kill him, then the smell would. Snowmelt and who knows what from the busy streets drizzled steadily into the storm drains, creating a murky, artificial creek that Auberon dared not touch.

Auberon climbed a rusty ladder out of the storm drain and pulled himself onto the dimly lit streets of the mountain city, Ithoro. The sky was just beginning to lighten as the sun rose somewhere behind the everpresent blanket of clouds. Still early morning.

The cobblestone road stretched ahead in a lazy, winding, sloping path between the towering, stone buildings. Judging by the colorful banners, motifs, and tall, domed roofs, Auberon gathered he was in Ithoro’s Merchant’s District, a bustling part of the city built halfway up the mountain side. Some of the windows glowed from within as early risers prepared for a long day of selling goods and services. Off in the distance, he could hear the hoofbeats of Bkslovian mountain goats hauling supplies up the steep incline of the main roads. Lavender light from the crystal-powered streetlamps revealed the snow flurries floating in the air.

Auberon’s bare foot burned from the cold as his breath fogged. Nothing had changed since he was plucked off these streets by the Necroguild.

Before anyone could see him, Auberon slipped into a tight alleyway. The further from the main road he got, the dirtier and icier the roads became. The patterns carved and painted into the buildings decreased in complexity as well.

Up ahead, the ragged hum of a lone geothermal generator vibrated through the tight paths. It was coming from further up the road, a little closer to the wealthier Upper District. Yes! Auberon scrambled toward the sound. His toes and fingers were going numb from the cold. A generator would give him just enough heat to keep going. He was no longer sure where he was going, but anywhere was better than that cage, and the false family that was the Necroguild.

The humming amplified when Auberon finally saw the purple glow from the alleyway ahead. He turned the corner, and for the first time in a long time, he smiled. The cubic machine with copper edges and glowing core vibrated and whirred with a buzzing that could be felt within the chest. On top of the generator, an orange Ithorion cat slept, taking advantage of the warmth. Auberon approached and sat next to the machine. It didn’t give off a lot of heat, but it was enough to get some feeling back. His thoughts were drowned out by the all-consuming noise, but he let himself breathe, clutching his throbbing arm close. The purple core of the generator swirled and spiraled into mesmerizing patterns. For a moment, Auberon thought he was finally safe.

The sky continued to lighten and the city’s noise amplified as morning officially arrived. Auberon kept his hands and feet close to his body in an attempt to protect them from the cold. He made a mental list of what he needed: gloves, shoes, jacket, bandages, food… Hopefully the amethyst in his pocket could pay for at least some of that.

The cat’s ear twitched faintly before it sprung to its feet, silently bolting down the alley. Auberon stood up to see that same glowing red. A specter wolf.

Auberon wasted no time sprinting back into the maze of buildings. The wolf was eerily silent. That meant Master Boyix was no longer in direct control of the specter, but that did not mean it had forgotten its mission.

Auberon took multiple turns, knocking over barrels and debris. The spectral wolf simply leaped over the obstacles or squeezed through them like liquid. It was gaining, fast.

One of the main streets of Ithoro was up ahead. Auberon could maybe find help in the busy street. Safety in numbers, right? He thought. He staggered out into the busy marketplace. Many were just now setting up shop for the day. Many residents in this part of Ithoro wore only simple linen and wool clothes meant to keep the constant chill at bay. No one dared stand out, lest they become a target for robbery, or worse. Very few seemed to notice the filthy, bloodied Iphuan boy running across the street. It wasn’t an uncommon sight in Ithoro. Most knew better not to get involved.

That quickly changed when the spectral wolf came into view. People screamed and scrambled to get away. Crates were dropped, tents were toppled over, and those unlucky enough to fall over were trampled. Auberon sprinted into the fleeing crowd for cover.

Snarling, the wolf followed into the flood of people. Its red ectoplasm smeared onto clothes as it brushed past civilians to reach its target.

The already smoggy air was a struggle to breathe as Auberon pushed past various Iphuans to get away. The wolf was slowed by the crowd, but it never stopped. Up ahead was a clearing, a small sitting area. One last push.

A young girl yelped as Auberon crashed into her and they both tumbled to the hard, cobbled road. She couldn’t have been any older than him, twelve years. She gawked at him in utter repulsion. The blood, the dirt, the strange fungal residue. It was all over her now. Soaked into her pale blue, silk dress.

Auberon pushed himself off, “I’m sorry.” He mumbled and kept running. There was no time to help her up or ask if she was alright. No time to wonder why she was wearing such a bright dress.

He only stopped running when an ear-piercing scream echoed off the buildings around him. Auberon turned in time to see the wolf’s jaws snap shut around the girl’s ankle. An Iphuan man with silver hair, wearing a purple, wool coat attempted to pull the specter off, but his hands only sank into the ectoplasm. The girl was covered in the filth Auberon had collected through his escape. His scent was all over her.

The girl screamed and cried for her papa as the wolf dragged her away in broad daylight. The rich man desperately chased it. A few brave souls pursued the wolf as well, but most knew it was a lost cause. While everyone was distracted, Auberon scurried into the closest alleyway.

Tears welling up in his eyes, Auberon curled up into an abandoned crate. His heart pounded and his body shook. It took all his strength not to cry out loud, stifling himself into choked sniffles. Why didn’t I do anything? I just watched!

Auberon had escaped the Necroguild. He was back in Ithoro. But it cost an innocent life.