The Road Goes Ever On

Chapter 9

Jason elected to travel south, as he had never ventured in that direction before. After many days on the road, he arrived in the swampy lands of Argus. The air hung thick and fetid over the gloomy bogs. The people who dwelled in scattered thatch-roof villages seemed sullen and suspicious. Jason even had to thwart a robbery attempt on the first night.

On the second day in Argus, Jason came to a desolate village by the shores of Lake Misery. The residents there told him that for several weeks, some unknown evil had occupied the lake's island. Strange lights and sounds came from the island nightly, keeping the superstitious villagers awake with dread.

When Jason volunteered to investigate the island, the villagers tried to dissuade him. They believed the evil presence hungry for souls had placed a curse on the lake's waters. None who went to the island had ever returned.

But Jason would not be deterred so easily. Once darkness fell, he procured a small raft and pole from the villagers and set out across Lake Misery. Dense fog obscured his vision, but he glimpsed the jagged outline of the island ahead. As he drew closer, Jason discerned shapes moving along the shores carrying torches. Chants in no natural tongue reached his ears. The hairs on Jason's neck prickled.

Without warning, one of the robed figures let out an otherworldly shriek and flung forth its torch, which arced through the air straight at Jason! He dove off the raft just before the projectile smashed into the crude vessel, incinerating it.

The icy water shocked his system, but Jason's armor allowed him to remain submerged and swim beneath the fog's veil. He reached the island's shore intact, though now he was trapped. He would have to fight whatever evil dwelled here or perish trying.

Gripping his sword, Jason crept up the crumbling stone steps leading to the center of the island. Through gaps in the choking mists, he witnessed a ghoulish ritual. Twisted, inhuman acolytes danced around a bloodstained altar while their high priest plunged a cruel obsidian dagger again and again into an innocent villager's chest. The poor man's screams died away along with his life.

Enraged by the vile sacrifice, Jason leapt forth with a cry and cut down one of the skeleton-thin acolytes before they even realized he was there. The other cultists scattered in panic as Jason laid into them, his blade singing through the air. The high priest reached for the dark magic within the altar, but Jason sprinted forward and bisected him before he could finish the evil incantation.

Silence and stillness took hold of the island. The righteous fury in Jason's heart subsided, leaving chilling blankness in its wake. He knew the villagers' fears of this place were well-founded. After recovering the dead sacrificial victim to return for proper burial, Jason set about thoroughly destroying the altar and everything else tainted by the presence that had occupied this place.

At dawn, the villagers saw a bedraggled warrior approaching across the lake's water as if by miracle. They rushed to welcome the hero who had survived the island and banished its evil. Word soon spread far and wide of Jason's impossible feat. All of Argus seemed a little less bleak knowing such champions existed.

Jason moved on quickly from Argus, skin still crawling from his encounter there with forces beyond mortal reckoning. He longed for a bit of light to pierce the gloom resting upon his spirit.