I recently received the Deck of Worlds (a Story Engine expansion) as a gift. So, I thought I’d combine a draw from my original cards (I received those a few years ago at a Free Comic Book Day) with a location from the new cards. Instead of having to figure out where my character has to look, I can have her already know and face the challenges of retrieval.

~~~
Decades had passed since Lyryk first heard the saga of the First Bard, known only as Twilight. Her mentor, Jamus, knew little more than what the tale implied: that the First Bard hid a bag containing a magical item in the Library of the Sentinels. No one at the Bard’s College in Thayur knew any more about what the mysterious bag contained. Jamus had suggested she search the archive at the Great Library in Rithraunen, implying the tale was nothing more than a myth from the long-forgotten past.

Dozens of seasons had passed since she studied and searched for the forgotten landmark, and now Lyryk stood at the foot of the Scree of Guardians, looking for any indication that a village might once have been there. The scrolls she’d read in Rithraunen pointed to the village of Cliffhollow, at the base of a scree, somewhere near the Western Range. She’d arrived at the site late in the day, the crag behind the debris casting shadows across the valley, setting up camp in a sheltered hollow near the rockfall.

Biscuit followed on her heels, her ever-present guardian in the guise of a scruffy stray dog. He’d been at her side since she’d first left Thayur all those seasons past. First saving her from a close call with bandits, then guiding her around danger and toward safety when his senses told him the two of them were in danger from whatever lay ahead.

“What do you think, Biscuit? Safe enough?” Lyryk spoke to the mutt as if expecting an answer while he sniffed around the nook.

It will do, came the reply in her mind, as he curled up near the entrance.

Close to dawn, Biscuit ran his tongue up her exposed cheek.

Time to rise, Bard. Light time approaches, the orb comes.

Wiping the slobber from her face, Lyryk blinked awake. The sky, while still dark, held a faint but unmistakable change of hue from black to violet over the eastern ridge. She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as Biscuit watched. Taking a mouthful of cool water from her flask, she rinsed, then spat the stale taste to the side. Another swallow slaked her thirst.

Before she’d finished drinking, Biscuit turned and padded away from their meager campsite. Ten paces from her, he looked back toward her.

Come, it is only visible when the orb breaches the horizon.

Lyryk trotted along behind the mutt until they were half a furlong from the talus field. Biscuit turned back toward the cliff.

Observe.

As the sun crested the horizon, Lyryk watched in awe as the early sunlight reflecting from the cliff face shifted from violet to a fiery red, then vibrant orange, before settling into a soft gold as a sliver of sun peeked into view. She turned in time to see a bright flash a few man-lengths above the talus field. The flash faded, but with the light shining onto the rock face, she saw the entrance to what could only be a cave. From this distance, she couldn’t judge its size. Instead, she searched the mountainside for a path up.

“I think I see a route up, let’s check it out.”

As she neared the path, she stopped to lock the route into her mind. She noted some places where rockfall caused part of the path to fall away, but was sure she could navigate them. Before starting up the rocky slope, Lyryk led Biscuit back to break their fast and clear camp. Long shadows still stretched from the east when they began their ascent, Biscuit in the lead.

The climb took the better part of the morning, the last couple of man-lengths being the steepest. When they reached the ledge leading into the cave, Lyryk found a rock and collapsed onto it, drinking from her waterskin while looking out over the valley. Opening her pack, she took out a hunk of cheese and tore an end off the loaf she’d gotten in the last village. She found a piece of dried meat, tossing it to Biscuit, who caught then gulped it down, while she broke a piece of crust off the bread, chewing slowly.

Half a hand passed before her energy returned, and she was ready to explore the cave. Something in the cave had reflected the sunrise for an instant, and she was determined to discover what.

Lyryk peered into the entrance, which was smaller than she’d expected. Biscuit stuck his head in, sniffing the air.

Smells old.

“Anything recent?”

Ancient bones.

Lyryk crawled on hands and knees, reaching a narrow ledge after a man-length. She tumbled out, barely catching herself before reaching the edge. She looked around the chiseled walls, seeking a looking glass or shiny metal disk. Still, she saw nothing to reflect the sunrise, no matter how hard she peered at the rough walls.

Then she saw it. A small, crumbling bag lay on a tall rock across the narrow chasm. Inside the rotting cloth, a glint of something shiny caught her eye. She cast a spell that let her fetch small baubles she couldn’t reach, then guided the item over the precipice, careful not to lose control and drop it into the darkness.

When she released the spell, the bag fell to the stone floor with a soft thump. The bag crumbled at her touch, revealing a small silver box etched with ancient script. She recognized the script as the dragon tongue, but the words were unfamiliar.

As she turned the box in her hands, examining it, she noted a thin line, easy to miss in the dim light of the cavern. Tracing the line with a fingernail, it caught on a tiny latch that, when pushed, released the lock. The box opened, revealing a piece of jewelry that Lyryk couldn’t identify.

She set up a ritual circle, adding the box with the jewelry in the center. A finger of the sun later, she knew she had possession of the Cuff of Comprehension, the lost relic of Twilight, the First Bard. Legends said it allowed the wearer to understand all languages. She’d read about the artifact when looking for clues in the Great Library, then again, she’d read about the mythical relics the First Bard had purportedly hidden. She never thought she’d hold one in her hands.

“What do you think, fur face?”

You found what you sought, did you not?

“I wasn’t sure what I’d find, but yes, I found something.”

It was then that the ground shook, knocking the stone pillar across the void to the ground.

“Time to go,” said Lyryk, shoving the box into a belt pouch and scurrying to the entrance.

She crawled through the tight tunnel as the walls shifted around her, small stones and pebbles raining down, Biscuit following close behind. They reached the outer ledge, jumped the man-length down to the crumbling path, always one step ahead of the rockfalls.

Lyryk cut across the shifting rocks, working her way out of the path of the main slide, and let the downward slope propel her to the ground. Somehow, the gods were watching out for her, because she made it to the valley floor with nothing more than a few cuts and bruises.

Detritus from the earth shake had buried the camp they’d used the night before, so they moved to the far side of the basin. Lyryk set up camp on the east side, across from the cave entrance, which had disappeared.

“We got lucky.”

Luck played no part, Bard.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The ancients safeguard their secrets; only a special few are ever allowed to discover them.

With that, Biscuit curled up and went to sleep, saying no more.