Algernon, The Afflicted Renegade

Following the light of the firebugs on the wall, Algernon led Lindley into the tunnel. After a dozen or so steps he halted. "This should be safe enough, for now."

Grunting with what sounded like pain, Algernon reached stiffly inside his shirt and pulled out a worn leather pouch. He teased open the pouch strings with shaking fingers and pulled out a round fist-sized glowstone. He took Lindley's hand and pressed the stone into it. "Take this glowstone."

"Huh?" Lindley felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as he took the glowstone. Was it just his imagination, or was its magic making his hand tingle?

"You can feel its magic, can't you?" Algernon asked.

Lindley nodded, then remembered to speak aloud. "I can."

He held the runestone up and peered closely at it. One side was blank. The other was inscribed with two runes, barely visible thanks to the many chips, scuffs, and cracks the runestone had acquired in the hundreds or even thousands of years since its creation.

"Earth magic?" Lindley wondered aloud.

Algernon's eyebrows rose. "You know how to read Dwarvish?"

"Enough to make out simple words like these," Lindley said. He took a cloth from his pocket and wrapped it around the runestone. "What is this for?"

"Direction to the Ivory Hills."

"But...are you not coming with me?"

"No, my path lies elsewhere."

"But... I don't even know how to use it."

"You'll have to figure that out for yourself."

"But you must know how to use it," Lindley said. "How else would you have found your way within this tunnels?"

"Quite true. But teaching a mage how to use the glowstone isn't necessary, is it?"

"I'm not yet a mage."

"The Magus aura is all over you, child." Algernon sighed. "It will come to you.."

Lindley fumed. It was clear that Algernon wasn't going to budge, and there was little Lindley could do about it. He wasn't about to threaten a fellow human, let alone one who was obviously unwell.

Lindley wished that he'd anticipated such an obstacle. Figuring out how to use the stone would mean a consultation with a loremaster. And that would require payment—coin he didn't have. He should have known better than to agree to purchase what was—he was starting to suspect—stolen property that Algernon himself didn't even know how to use. Lindley had compromised his principles, and would have one more thing to answer for when his life was done.

"Why do you seek the Ivory Hills, anyway?" Algernon asked.

"Forgive me, but it's personal." Lindley replied.

"As it is for us all." Algernon grunted with a nod before holding his injured arm. "Fair enough."

"Let me bind that wound." Lindley uttered. He was bound by the code of the humans to at least do what he could to relieve the pains of others.

"Too late for that," the dwarf said.

Algernon lurched forward suddenly and seized Lindley's hand with his own, undamaged one. Lindley shuddered and tried to pull away, but Algernon's grip was as strong as stone, despite the renegade's trembling.

"If you can't convince Celia, speak to Jorn." Algernon said. His foul-smelling breath panted up into Lindley's face. "Tell them, they need to get as far away as possible, and as quickly as possible, from Ivory Hills, or they'll wind up like me or worse."

"Why?" Lindley glanced uneasily down at Algernon's oozing hand. If it was some sort of affliction that Algernon was suffering from, was it in his blood? Was it due to the mages of Azmar? "What happened?"

"Just tell them to get out of Ivory Hills—to get as far from the East Rift as they can," Algernon said, pleading. "And tell Jorn I am his brother, still. Despite … everything. That I will carry my regrets to my grave."

"Why must they leave Ivory Hills?" Lindley prompted, trying to ease his hand free. "What is the danger? Is it the warlocks of Azmar?"

"Too late," the renegade said.

"But—"

"Shh." Algernon cocked his head, listening. A low moan welled up from the cavern behind them. "That scourge's coming back."

Finally, he let go of Lindley's hand.

"We better get going, then," Lindley said, backing off a pace.

In truth, Lindley wanted to turn and run the other way. Take his chance with the collapsed bridge a second time, despite the scourge. Run all the way to Ivory Hills, and tell someone, anyone, of his strange encounter and ask them what it meant.

"I'm not returning to Ivory Hills as I've told you. My destiny lies in another direction." Algernon said. He took a deep breath, then turned his face up toward Lindley's. "I was a divine cleric, once. Did you know that?"

"A divine cleric?" Lindley replied. Belatedly, he admonished himself for letting the word slip out. It wasn't his place to question the nature of a renegade, no matter how low the renegade might have fallen. Lindley knew all outlaws had different past, some stranger than others.

Algernon abruptly clenched both fists and banged his right hand down atop his left—the sign of heaven above earth, but in unity. "May your heart find peace, child." Then he sprinted away—straight toward the chasm.

"Sir!" Lindley exclaimed. "Stop!" He started after the blind dwarf, but it was too late. Algernon ran straight over the edge, hurtling forward. Screaming the name of the cleric god, he plunged into the chasm.

"No!" Lindley gasped. He heard the sickening thud and crack of Algernon's body striking a wall, followed a moment later by the rustle of a cloaker enveloping its prey. There was no scream. Lindley prayed that meant that Algernon had been knocked unconscious before being devoured.

"Heaven's blessing upon you, sir Algernon," he whispered as he backed quickly away from the edge of the chasm. "May the light guide your soul into the afterlife."

Lindley turned and ran down the tunnel, bypassing the broken bridge. As he ran, conflicting emotions clanged through him like hammers all trying to strike the same anvil at once. He was elated to have at least the glowstone, but at the same time a rising sense of dread filled him. What had been wrong with Algernon?

Obviously some strange new affliction that the old human feared would happen to the renegades of the Ivory Hills. But why—and how? The mages?

And why had Algernon killed himself? Yes, the scourge had been had been headed back, and might even have squeezed itself into the tunnel, but surely Algernon wouldn't have felt it necessary to create a distraction that would save Lindley, a complete stranger to him. Such a sacrifice was something one would expect only of a shield brother.

Which, Lindley suddenly realized, was exactly what Algernon must have been doing: protecting his fellow renegades by killing himself, so whatever it was that had afflicted him wouldn't happen to them too, or worse..

Lindley realized he was wiping his hand against his trousers as he hurried along. "Might as well try to blow out a forge with a breath," he said, admonishing himself. If Algernon's touch had left disease on Lindley's hands, he'd need a blessing to expunge it. It wasn't about to be brushed off like dust.

A potion or a cleric, he decided. Right now, a potion was what he needed. The Ivory Hills was just outside these tunnels on the other side.