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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
A small party of adventurers on the path to riches stumble upon the place they never thought they'd see again; Their old homes.

Submitted: April 07, 2016

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Submitted: April 07, 2016



“Hey, Old Man! Are you lost?”  While traveling down the path to riches, I spot an old man sitting in the middle of the path, holding a map upside down.  “Only as lost as one who both knows exactly where he is, yet has no idea.”, as he continues to look at the map.  “Wha-Listen, you need to get out of our way, we have places to go.” I say, as I heft my axe in my right hand.  

He carefully half-folds, half-crumples the map, and tucks it into a pouch as he slowly stands up.  Wearing a ragged white beard and even worse green cloak, he doesn’t look like much.  “It’s gonna be an even harder journey if you try to bully your guide,” he says, and promptly turns around and walks down a half-hidden side trail.  Looking back at the rest of my party, we all nod and start to follow.

“And where exactly are you supposed to be leading us to?” I finally decide to ask, after about an hour of walking.  “Simple, just look around you.” For the first time, I fully look at my surroundings, and see the one place I never thought I’d see again.  “But this is-” He stops, turns around, and looks me in the eye.  “Your Home.”

A slight, icy breeze comes blowing, taking the leaves of the forest with it as we walk right onto the path that leads to the Ice Peaks Villages, the snow blown, hateful town I grew up in. Every building was exactly where it should be, and I see people, my old people, coming out of the tavern, cheering and laughing with joy as they see us arrive.  As the crowd of people start rushing toward us, I look at my companions and see they have the same bewildering looks on their faces I do.  Symtana, our Barbarian from a Tundra even farther north than me, says something so outrageous that I immediately realise what we just did.  Without a second thought I heft my axe, and swing it at my old people as they rush towards me..

It all vanished.  The homes, my people, the icy breeze of home.  Gone, and replaced by the truth. A small group of goblins rushing toward us instead of my people, and a dungeon with stale air instead of my village and the breeze.  "Trap" I yell as we all start to fight ferociously against the beasts surrounding us. One after another, the goblins go down, but more start to flood the cavern. As we all start to realise we've lost, I look toward the wizard.  but he, too, is gone, replaced by a young bard, with a smirk on his face.  I rush towards him, pushing goblins out of the way, and jump onto him, cleaving his head in two with my axe as I land.  Looking up in triumph, I realise my mistake as goblins swarm me, and my last sight is of red.



A group of young adventurers, clearly on their first quest, are walking carelessly up the trail, when they spot an old man sitting in the middle of the path.  "Hello, good sir!" greets a cheery young girl, a mage, "Is there anything we can help you with?"  The old man looks up, with a smile not unlike a smirk on his face, "No.  But I can help you, for I am your guide.  As he stands, the glint of sunlight reflects off the steel head of an axe, strapped to his back.

© Copyright 2018 Riley P.. All rights reserved.

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