The Story Continues

A hint of warmth carries in the breeze, a whisper of spring floating in the air, bringing the promise of a new season of life and growth, though not yet visible in the world around. A simple campsite is nestled in a cozy outcropping, a small campfire burns right outside the camp tent. The campsite is warm, warmer than the temperature in the general area. A warmth greater than any small campfire could provide. No, a powerful aura of magic hangs over this place.

An unassuming figure sits by the fire. At first glance, he is just another stranger by the fire. However, if one were to stop and assess the figure, they would be able to sense the ancient and cosmic aura. He takes the kettle off the fire and pours a steaming hot cup of coffee into his earthen mug. A red and green illuminated leather tome sets in his lap. He smiles warmly as he closes the book, and places it gently into a tan rucksack. He pulls his arm back, this time retrieving an old leather bound book from his pack and opens it up somewhere near the center. He turns his hand to write and a small feather quill pen appears in his hand. As he moves to put the pen to page, ink begins to pool on the tip of the pen. The pen tip touches the page and the ink begins to sink in….

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

The Wizard awakes with a start, gasping for breath. Chills play up and down his spine and a cold sweat breaks across his forehead. He looks out the window, the sky is pitch black but sliver of light begins to peek over the horizon. While many look towards the sunrise as a sign of hope, the Wizard feels a dark foreboding. A powerful, but dark magic approaches.

“She is coming,” says the Wizard to himself.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The Inventor’s steam machine races along dirt paths winding through the jungle, the massive machine crushing lesser trees that stand in its wake. The Gunslinger hangs out of a hatch on top of the machine, his repeating rifle in his hand. He looks down into the cabin of the vehicle. Dr. Wolf shovels coal into the engine rapidly. 

“Where are we?” asks the Gunslinger, “That looked like the same grotto on that ridgeline back there. We’ve passed it two or three times already.”

“I’m sure that there’s more than one grotto in this jungle,” says the Distiller, “Still, the surroundings seem a little familiar.”

“So we’re lost?” exclaims Dr. Wolf.

Suddenly the vehicle slides to a halt.

“Why did we stop?” says Dr. Wolf.

A muscle-bound man stands in the middle of the dirt path, his dreads dangle from around his head like the thick vines of the jungle that surround him. His eyes glow bright blue, his aura gives the feeling of something primal.