“Why did you come here?” She chewed thoughtfully. They really were wonderful pancakes.
“Bert find magic sky rock.” Bert lowered his voice and glanced around to make sure none of the other tables were listening. “Bert hide deep in mountain. Rock make people crazy.”
“Crazy? Is that what happened to the high elves?” Kit swallowed the last bite, and leaned forward to hear the answer. A magic sky rock? Perhaps it was some sort of adventure hook.
“Yes!” Bert clapped his cheeks with his palms. “Elves went crazy, and kill each other to reach rock. When elves touch rock they go POOF. Gone. Bert hide rock so no one try to get.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you did.” Kit dabbed at her lips with a napkin, and then sipped from a glass of orange juice that had somehow appeared before her. “White would probably do terrible things with a rock like that. So how do you think we should handle this?”
“Hmm.” Bert scratched his chin as if stroking an imaginary beard. “Bert think we go to Bobertown. Shopkeepers still there, right?”
Kit nodded.
“We stay at monster shop.” Bert pointed at Nutpuncher. “You run recognize the fence.”
“What?” The gnome blinked in confusion.
Kit couldn’t help but smile when she realized what Bert was trying to say. “I think he means he wants you to run reconnaissance.”
“Yes!” He hopped up and down. “Gnome sneaky. Run recon. Then meet with Bert’s spymaster. Find out what going on. Then we make plan and stop White.”
He made it all sound so easy, and even though she knew it wouldn’t be, the goblin’s little speech had somehow inspired her. “When do we leave?”
Bert hopped from the chair down to the floor. “Bert will go get packed! Leave as soon as Kit and gnome get outside. Boberton will be ready too.”
25
Whiteworld
The trek back to Bobertown passed entirely too swiftly. They made excellent time through the forest, and even retrieved Bert’s wagon as they passed through Humboldt County.
Kit spent most of the time in fox form running next to Boberton, while Bert and Nutpuncher rode in the wagon. She’d have preferred to chat with them, but the wagon was too small for that, and besides…this was the last chance she’d probably have to frolic around in a forest.
It had been good coming home, in spite of her nervousness, and she’d enjoyed relaxing. Now the threat of their urgent mission hung over them, and she spent as much time worrying about White as bounding over flowers.
The first sign of the penultimate wizard necromancer was the ominous black clouds in the sky. They dominated the horizon beyond the Moist Mountains, and the closer they came the more angry those clouds appeared. Black and grey, and ready to disgorge frigid rain on the town beneath.
Kit tried to press back the guilt when they came up the pass into the Moist Mountains and finally laid eyes on Bobertown.
The dog rumbled to a halt next to her, and she shifted back to elven form as they surveyed the town. The walls had been painted black, and the tomb had been replaced with a much larger, much more ominous keep. “My gods, he’s completed the upgrade.”
“What mean?” Bert moved to the wooden slats of the wagon and pressed his face between the bars.
“Something White always wanted to do.” She shook her head, and began using her staff as a walking stick as they continued down the other side of the pass. The hike had been more exhilarating than tiring, but seeing that eyesore sapped the energy from her. “It might make getting inside more difficult.”
“Hmm.” Bert nodded sagely, and stroked his imaginary beard. “Bert will factor into planning. Bert have to stop White. This…Bert have to stop White.”
More guilt. Kit nodded and shifted back into fox form, mostly to avoid further conversation as they picked a path down the mountainside. They’d arrive just as the sun went down, an ominous time to enter an ominous town.
No travelers moved along the road, dead or living. The town may have been upgraded to a keep, but it was as quiet as a tomb. Of course, White was likely in there somewhere building something nefarious.
They slowed as they reached the bridge leading into town, and the first thing she noted was that the Bobertown sign had been replaced. In its place had been hung a meticulously carved sign which read ‘Whiteworld’.
“Why aren’t there any guards?” Nutpuncher pressed his face between the bars next to Bert’s.
“Mmm.” Bert blinked several times, then smiled as he seemed to realize something. “White probably send out undead to get more people. No one stupid enough to attack Keep of Deadly Death, right? Don’t need guards outside. Guards will be there, but inside maybe. Bert can find out. Spymaster will know.”
Kit was greatly interested in meeting this spymaster fellow. She envisioned some sort of rogue, like the were-cougar they’d worked with before.
Bert guided Boberton across the bridge, and led their little party into the gloomy town. He took a path that brought them very near the keep itself, but as Bert had predicted they saw not a single guard.
The goblin urged Boberton toward the merchant district, and made for the monster shop. The demo dog, who’d grown a bit since they’d left the forest, stopped outside the shop, and Bert threw a rope ladder down the side of his wagon.
Kit shifted to elven form, and their little party quickly entered the monster shop and shut the door behind them, though Boberton was now too large to fit through the door, and instead hunkered down outside the window.
The same kindly old man, bespectacled and a bit stooped, smiled out at them from behind the counter. “Ah, young fella, you came back! Still got that dark lord trope, I see, and your demo pup friend. I see he’s still growing. Hope that’s been a satisfying transaction.”
“Yes! Bert very happy with dog.” Bert hopped up and down on the floor, miles
