In the centre of the bridge stood a small shrine, clearly neglected for years. No remnant of offerings remained on the rough slab, no bigger than a paving stone, that served as its altar. Only the faintest traces of wax from votive cand long extinguished, marked its surface. A weather-beaten idol, face worn smooth by time, gazed out into the mist. The river, rushing down from the hot volcanic crags, was still hot enough to steam, the vapour chilled instantly into mist by the frigid air.
Octenheimer stood beside the statue looking at the steaming waters below. His mind wandered to the laboratory that he had left behind and the experiment that was progressing there. All was going well. He sensed rather than saw a figure in the shadows to his left, he straightened and turned towards it. “Greetings stranger.” He called into the night and waited for a reply.
“Greetings Octenheimer” a rasping voice replied, “What news?” A shadow stepped from the darkness at the end of the bridge and advanced into the last of Hyish’s light. The figure wore a tightly wrapped cloak and a helmet made from an animal’s skull, the antlers spreading as wide as the man’s shoulders, it was a man. Octenheimer sensed the aura of death magic surrounding the figure and knew it was his advisor. “How was your journey from the peckish stairs?”
The newcomer chuckled at the joke but ignored the question, so Octenheimer continued. “Dracothfoote is using the key as you predicted but doesn’t realise the effect it has on other realmgates. The more he uses it, the more the power builds and the worse the effects will become.”
“And you can recreate this artefact again?”
This time it was Octenheimer that chuckled “Oh yes, I’m sure I can arrange a demonstration for you if required.” Octenheimer put a strange emphasis on the word ‘demonstration’, but it seemed to pass the stranger by.
“Excellent! Then our plans are progressing well. I shall leave you to your work.” The stranger turned to go.
“You’re returning to Nassollotyl?” asked Octenheimer innocently.
The figure whirled round and fixed him with a malicious stare. “I shall go where our plans need me to go.” He hissed in a low voice.
“Of course, of course. I didn’t mean to pry.” He said obsequiously, having learned a little more about his advisor.
The figure glared a little longer then, satisfied turned and disappeared into the shadows. Octenheimer stood for a moment then, behind him, the stone idol rocked gently on its perch. Grey flecks fell away from its flanks, and a hole appeared, revealing brightly coloured feathers. More of the shell fell away, and a strange two-legged creature emerged, picking its way delicately through the debris. Its two heads, one with just an eye, the other just a mouth faced the shadows as it stalked up to stand beside Octenheimer. The eye turned and fixed him with a stare.
“Do we trust him?” the familiar asked.
“We don’t trust anybody” said Octenheimer, knowing these conversations would be reported back before turning and walking towards the opposite end of the bridge.
The familiar stood staring into the shadows thoughtfully,
