has met its end. Back at camp, he uses his skinning stone and preps it for the fire.
Using the same spell as before, he soon has the fire burning merrily and places the rabbit upon the spit. Sitting there with the waterfall sprinkling into the pond twenty feet away, he listens to the fat pop and crackle as drips fall into the fire. He feels good. Another day has passed without mishap. He’s getting the hang of this world, magic hasn’t been too difficult, at least not the simple spells he has attempted.
Turning the rabbit occasionally for an even cook, he relaxes and enjoys the peaceful interlude. The aroma coming off the meat is wonderful. He gets up and walks over to the pond. It is a clear, sparkling blue. Kneeling at the edge, he takes a good long drink. The water is so pure and crisp that he doubts that there could be anything like it back home.
With the sun descending below the treetops, night is fast approaching. Returning to the spit, he checks the rabbit, sees that it is not quite ready, then grabs his backpack and removes the berries he had gathered earlier. Unwrapping them, he pops three in his mouth then sets the others aside to have with the rabbit.
By the time the rabbit is fully cooked and the outer skin is a dark brown, shadows have fully enveloped the campsite. Taking the rabbit off the spit, he settles down against the backdrop and eats with a gusto only starvation can provide.
Once his hunger has been satiated, James discards the carcass quite a ways from the camp to prevent it from drawing predators. On the way back, he gathers more wood, having no wish to freeze through another night. Already with the sun down, a chill has crept into the air. Keeping a fire going all night will bring him comfort and hopefully safety from curious animals.
Stoking the fire, he settles down to sleep. Lying on his back and wishing for a blanket, he stares at the night sky and watches as the night deepens and the stars come out. Events of the past two days play through his mind. It would be hard to credit the truth of it all if he hadn’t been living through it. What happened to Seth now seems like a bad dream, one from which he knew there would be no awakening.
Magic is real. He wondered how much he dare try. In the role-playing world, magic is fraught with dangers, especially for those unschooled in its use. The book on magic gave very little actual instruction in how to work it; mainly just theory and suggestions.
He grins upon thinking about the little ditties he threw together for his spells. How simple and unimaginative they were. Not at all like the flowing, poetry variety of spells one finds in books. But they had worked, hadn’t they? And isn’t that all that really matters? The book hadn’t said anything about increasing the effectiveness of a spell by upgrading the wording used.
A wooden spoon is just as effective when eating soup as a silver one.
Not sure exactly where he had heard that little piece of home-spun advice, but it certainly fits the situation.
Sleeping near the fire provides him with a sense of security lacking the night before. The soft sounds of the waterfall commingled with the fire’s crackle and pop eventually lull him to sleep.
He awakes shivering several times during the night and puts more wood on the fire to keep warm. The coming of dawn finds him frozen and that his fire has died. Chilled to the bone, teeth chattering and breath misting in the morning air, he stirs the coals and discovers a few embers still aglow. The addition of small twigs and moss sparks a flame. After adding several larger pieces, James soon basks in the fire’s warmth.
Clouds have rolled in during the night. It looked like rain might be in the forecast. James is less than happy since rain will only add to the discomfort he already feels. Sleeping on the cold, hard ground has left him with a sore body and a crick in his neck. The few remaining berries make an inadequate breakfast. What he wouldn’t give right now for his bed back home and one of his grandmother’s breakfasts. Sighing, he pops the last berry in his mouth and stands. A final glance to the cloud-filled sky above, a sigh, then he sets about readying for the continuation of his quest for Trendle. His backpack he slings over his shoulder; the spear makes due as a walking stick. He leaves the pond and waterfall behind to follow the stream as it makes its way through the trees.
James encounters more of the berry bushes throughout the morning. It is fortunate that they grow in such abundance. As the day progresses, breaks in the forest canopy allow glimpses of the gathering clouds. Near mid- day, thunder rumbles off in the distance. Shortly afterward, another stream joins the one he is following, increasing its width and depth.
When the grumbling of his stomach tells him it is lunchtime, he takes a break at a small clearing at water’s edge. After making a fire, he wades into the stream with his spear, this time looking for a fish to fry. Using a variation on his hunting spell, James soon has a large fish impaled upon the end of his spear. Pleased, he returns to camp and in no time has it roasting over the fire.
The forest continuously grows darker and darker as the thunder crashes ever louder. Unless I want to walk in a downpour I better find myself some shelter soon. When the fish is ready James eats it quickly, though this time he saves half for later. He wraps what’s left in a leaf before putting it in his backpack. After extinguishing the fire, he sets a quick pace downstream looking for shelter to wait out the storm.
He comes to an area where the trees thin out somewhat and spies a ridgeline off to the south, a little over a hundred yards away. There looks to be an opening at the base of the ridge that may be a cave.
As he moves toward the promise of shelter, a drop of rain lands upon the tip of his nose; more soon follow. Hurrying quickly, he speeds his way through the trees, hoping to beat the rain. Just as he enters the clearing before the cave, there’s a brilliant flash of lightning followed instantly by a thunderous crack and the heavens are unleashed. Torrential rain pelts him the last few feet before gaining the shelter of the cave. Relieved at not being at the mercy of the elements, he turns about and glances to the rain coming down in what his grandma always called a “gully washer.”
The cave is dark but the intermittent flashes of lightning reveal how it extends deeper into the hillside. Relief turns to wariness as his imagination fills the deep shadows of the cave’s farthest recesses with carnivorous beasts. He grips his spear all the harder and moves closer to the mouth of the cave.
It’s just your imagination working overtime, James ol boy. What you need is a fire to dispel the shadows and put your mind at ease.
The thought of sitting all night in the dark is not something he wants to contemplate. A glance to the torrential downpour that still hammered the earth makes it clear that any firewood will be soaked and unusable.
Maybe a spell to make a glowing orb?
Working out the spell doesn’t take very long as spell formulation is becoming easier. Concentrating to maintain the visualization, he says:
Glowing orb to dispel the night
Bright as a hundred watt light
From you no heat need I feel
Go and travel as I will.
With the last word, he stretches out his hand and a glowing orb, cool and firm to the touch, forms on his hand. He smiles in satisfaction and places the orb on a nearby stone. Unlike his previous spells, after the initial surge of power, there remains a very slight draining of power. Guess the orb needs a continual source of power, like a light bulb, in order to keep working.
With the orb’s illumination filling the cave, he now notices many bones lying scattered across the floor. Must be the lair of a predator, or used to be. Not feeling secure until ensuring that he is definitely alone, he takes the orb and holds it aloft as he moves deeper within the cave. It doesn’t extend much farther and the end is soon reached.
Aside from a collection of bones twice that of what had been encountered near the entrance, it was deserted. From the lack of animal musk and no fresh kills, James deduces that the cave hasn’t seen an occupant for some time.
Feeling better, he returns to the front of the cave and concentrates on the orb, dimming its light so it is not quite so bright. Reaching into his backpack, he takes the fish left over from lunch and sits down by the entrance of the cave. Pulling out the book taken from the waiting room, he reads more as he eats. A lot of what it says makes sense. It isn’t a textbook on magic, just an overview to get you started.
By the time he’s done eating, daylight has faded yet more. Behind the clouds, the sun must be nearing the treetops. Yawning, he realizes just how tired he is. Replacing the book back within his backpack, he makes ready for sleep.
