Govir's Story

*As the noise of battle echoes above, Govir crouches among the empty barrels of this basement storeroom. With the scent of blood, a image flashes through his mind: leaning over a dead body, tearing at flesh. He briefly is overcome by imagining leaping up, letting the wild strength rush over his body, reveling in the power of his hands growing to claws, his teeth to fangs. But, like so many times before, he pushes the desire away, muttering a soft prayer to Jeevali to keep him safe, to keep him in control.

*He thinks of the nightmare his life has become in the past month, not daring yet to hope his unexpected rescuers may succeed, winning not just the battle above but finding a cure for his curse. A month ago, he was riding high on the joy of discovery, after Hada uncovered letters from Ila, and a map. Here was a chance to do some real exploring, to uncover the mysteries that surrounded the Fraternity of the Empty Moon! The gods are great and would lead him to knowledge, surely. Of course he rushed off with Hada to explore, stopping only to ask the old veterans at Darshana’s Caravanserai if they knew anything more. Who could wait when the thrill of discovery was right there?

*Getting to the old fort was easy, following the map. Little was left, just two of the four corner towers, and a great gash in the earth. Yet strangely the gash could not be approached, not without a gray fog enveloping his thoughts, until he found himself wandering far from the gash, confused and disoriented. If only he and Hada had not had a long conversation right there about the map, what might be missing, what more they could find in the Archives. For one of the beasts must have been listening, perhaps hidden in the tower ruins.

*Then the terror of the attack. Just flashes–waking to a silent wolf/human hybrid as its jaws closed around his arm. Screaming in pain, passing out. Coming to consciousness briefly to see Dag Hardstone, one of the dwarf kids, dead and bleeding in the hall, then fainting to blessed darkness.

*Then finding himself in an underground cell, strangely light, though all the color is bleached from the world. The days pass in a blur of pain and bloodlust. They keep pressing: they need to figure out what is missing from the map, how to get into the gash itself. They seem driven by urgency. Then silence. Leaving him alone. But also no food, little water. The big guard keeps poking him and laughing: “Soon you’ll get all the food you want, and once you taste flesh there is no going back.” Then, just blackness. A day? Two? Hard to know, until he wakes back in his cell, the gnawed bones of Hada strewn around his cell. If he knew the secret to the map, the clue that he must be missing, he would tell them now. He already suggested magic, invisible ink perhaps.

*It gets harder to resist the blackness he knows is creeping across his soul. He is not sure he can survive another night of the full moon, and certainly not two. He prayers constantly to the gods, but he does not know if they can here him in this dark place. Why did he ever think they have power, in the first place. Clearly the madness is stronger than them, clearly Jinnick’s howl will spread, for who can stop the inevitable?

*Until those strangers appeared, glowing in a magical light, slaughtering his captors. The Dunmari man, Kenzo, seemed possessed of an inner light, like the warm embrace of Bhishma telling him he was found again, of Shakun telling him he was protected, of Laka telling him he could be cured. Maybe these people were the answer to his prayers, after all. The story spills out of him. Why hold back, when talking to servants of the gods?

His mind drifts back to the present as the sounds of battle fade. For a moment, terror grips him, for he knows not who won. Then the reassuring clatter of the rope Ladder that miraculously came to life at the command of the dwarf tells him he might really be saved, and gratitude for Jeevali, for Laka, for Bhishma, for Shakun, for the whole divine family fills his heart as hope begins to grow. He pauses, praying silently, staying hidden until told otherwise, as we drift back to the dining hall, the dead bodies, scattered papers tossed off the table, and our four adventures standing, catching their breath after the battle.