Ibeos: What If?

Chapter 12. Last Ditch Effort

Journal Entry #1
Should I be numbering these? I don't know.

Anyway, I finally managed to haggle some paper and a piece of charcoal out of Thilo. As polite as he's been while traveling, I've learned he's reluctant to give up any means by which he can record things. Understandable—I mean, historian plus wizard? The man's gonna have a love for stationery.

He tells me that, based on his estimations, it's been around forty days since I arrived. Time has crept by. The tunnels haven't been harsh—mostly uneven dust paths with brief climbing here and there. Monotony has been the killer. Constantly walking, surrounded by nothing but shades of gray and brown. I haven't slept well at all. The fear of more tunnel-stalkers appearing has kept me on edge. I'm not sure we could handle another attack.

Thilo told me yesterday that we're close to Antonia, which doesn't serve to ease my fears. I may be in the future of Ibeos, but some things never change in this world. Antonia is the most inhospitable land in the world. Dinosaurs, carnivorous plants, venomous creatures around every bend—it's a hellscape for someone like me.

"Jane! I think I found something," Thilo's voice echoed down the tunnel. He'd decided to scout out ahead this morning while I rested. I touched my head tenderly; the heavy bruise from the tunnel-stalker's massive tail there had all but disappeared.

I slowly pushed my worn body up from the hard sediment. We'd been keeping a steady pace, but the days of walking were exacerbating both of my diseases. I stumbled my way toward the sound of his voice. The sound of footsteps echoed with me once again. Walking further from the fire pit crudely drawn in the dust, I concentrated to remember the intricate hand signals Thilo had taught me. "Hoc lumen."

An orb of light pulled from my hand, contracting and pulling away like slime. It jiggled as it finally took form—a mote of bright pink shaded everything I could see. Thilo told me pink was a rare color for the spell to take; magic took the form of the user's soul. I already knew this to a point, both from the flavor the players used and my desperate need for color motifs. A lot of what he said fit my assumptions.

The only motif I knew for pink was its connection to Daelia, the guardian of nature. Maybe it was coincidence—or a genuine connection—but either way, without more knowledge, it wouldn't help me now.

I kept struggling down the tunnel. My feet cried out with each step, cold veins of crimson trickling from where my ankle met the hard leather of my new shoes. After what felt like an eternity, I saw Thilo's tail come into view, flickering erratically.

"I think I've found the passage out of here—if my reading of the Seacurian script is correct..." he said, holding his hand up toward the stone wall beside him. "Figura lapis."

His hand shone a bright crimson as the stone began crackling and popping like popcorn, falling aside to reveal a small room.

"Once again, linguistics saves the day," he grinned.

I looked toward him with a weak smile, then turned my attention to the room as we entered. It was simple in design—an enclosed carving of stone, about five yards wide and deep—with a pedestal in the center displaying a large green button.

I glanced at Thilo. "I'm gonna be real real with you because I'm tired as fuck—and as you know, I feel I can speak candidly with you. But, I know if I were DM-ing us right now, I definitely would've made that button a trap of some kind."

"I still don't quite understand the concept of 'DM-ing,' but I do agree—it's awfully suspicious. However, we aren't left with much choice. Our rations are running dangerously low, and I'm not sure how far we'd have to go to find another exit."