Side Quest 2 Snowball in Progress, part 2

After we gear up, we’re off. Lisian’s hunch was right. Half the damn village is swallowed by Tenebris’ darkness. From a distance, we can see the elementals pounding against the dome, desperate to get in. The whole thing shimmers with psionic energy.

“There’s got to be a monk in there,” Caneky mutters, eyes fixed on the dome. “Or someone with psionics.”

“So whoever made it… They’re still in there?” Itzamune asks, trying to sound smart and missing the mark.

“Let the roots grab ‘em until they are six feet under,” Lisian smirks with a creepy giggling.

Lyra instinctively shifts closer to Itzamune. The druid’s laughter only makes her hide further behind him. The paladin pats her on the head, awkwardly trying to calm her nerves.

A faint groan drifts in from off the path. As we get closer, it sharpens into a voice. We find an old man sprawled on the ground, robes in tatters, looking one breath away from dust. Edna rushes in, pops a low-level healing potion, and the guy manages to sit up, coughing weakly.

“Thank you, young travelers. Please… help me avenge my fallen companions.” He gestures around, pointing at the NPC bodies littering the ground, silent witnesses to whatever slaughter happened here. “Many gave their lives trying to free the village trapped by that dome. I need your strength to destroy it.”

We all turn to Caneky.

“Stop looking at me like I’ve got all the answers!” he snaps.

“Do you know how the dome works?” Edna asks, fingers already tapping across the vials on his belt.

“There are wards. Five of them were placed on the outskirts. Take them all down, and the dome weakens. The githzyenkri holding it won’t last once his energy’s spread that thin.”

​The old man’s explanation makes Caneky’s neck puff up, as if he has just unlocked an achievement. His ego practically sparkles.

Lisian squints at him. “Even magic can’t fix that face.”

“Good thing for you, magic saved your charisma by giving you poison. Otherwise, you’d be hopeless,” Caneky fires back.

“Alright. Continue, please.” I cut in while our magicians waste their Hexlets roasting each other.

The old man goes on: the enemy controls the village from the inside, that’s why the elementals are hammering the dome nonstop. But after the assault, he no longer has the strength to command them. The easiest way to find the wards? Let the elementals lead us.

After that tip, Caneky and Edna drop into a crouch, eyes locked on the thing, circling it like total science fair nerds—poking, prodding, mumbling nonsense. Straight up like mad scientists messing around with their first kiddie chemistry set.

Meanwhile, Itzamune, Lisian, and Lyra head off to scout the dome’s perimeter. It doesn’t take long. They find one of the wards—an ugly chunk of glowing stone, humming with energy. Lisian’s roots spread wide but pick up no presence nearby, even when stretched to their limit. The three return later, sweaty and grumpy, right after making a full lap around the village.

“The village is bigger than I thought,” Lisian sighs, dropping into the grass, vines curling around her ankles. Her tiny steps always force her to jog just to keep up with the tall ones. “There are definitely people inside, but… no heartbeats of magic. Nothing. Except the ward right in front of us.”

While she’s catching her breath, Itzamune’s splashing holy water on his burned skin. Lyra shakes frost off her feathers over my sketching marks in the dirt, my poor attempt to map things out from the old man’s info.

“Eight elementals total,” Lyra counts, tossing her feathered crown aside with a sharp exhale. “Two Iceleys, five Pireflies, three Earthlings. But not a single soul inside the dome, hoo.”

“Our buffs are wearing off fast, and they’re not that tough. But they never stay far from the wards,” Itzamune adds, frustration dripping from his voice.

The old man keeps his eyes on us. When he chuckles, it hits me with the same sick feeling I had back in my room earlier, but then he just goes silent again.

And then—boom. Explosion in the distance.

“Edna and Caneky will be late,” I mutter.

Sure enough, the two stragglers show up, looking way more roasted than our paladin.

“Smells like grilled lizard,” Lisian says, grinning wickedly at Caneky peeling scorched scales off his arm.

“What? Are you hungry?” he snaps back. “Pair it with your roots, maybe they’ll actually be useful for once.”

Edna staggers in, half-dragging Caneky by the tail. Meanwhile, Itzamune is juggling Lisian’s weight in one arm and restraining Lyra with the other as she lunges at the warlock’s tail. Quetza stays perched, calm, on my shoulder.

The timer’s ticking down. Sun’s sinking bloody red into the horizon. My chest tightens—the same suffocating pressure from Gilt Coffer creeping back in. I glance at Lyra, I fear she would get that shadow in her again. Itzamune looks at her too; our eyes meet, both of us knowing each other’s thoughts without saying a word.

“Tingling whiskers,” I whisper. Quetza snaps his head as I pull up the mission panel. There’s always more to these quests than what’s written. Always.

[ Fallen Elementalists ] Only one survived.

[ Adventurers trapped ] Sure, there were signs of a fight—but no living souls inside.

And most importantly: [ Destroy the dome ]. The objective’s clear.

I look up. Everyone’s tense. Same dread crawling across every face.

“There’s gotta be someone alive in there,” Caneky mutters, hauling himself upright, pointing at the dome. “The wards inside work as conduits. Probably some soul-bound weapon. Maybe even a sacrifice.”

“The elementals are obsessed with getting in,” Lyra adds, feathers ruffling. “We hit them and they flinched, but it wasn’t enough to make them fight back or run. Weird behavior, hoo.”

“It didn’t even help when I blasted the fire ones with water,” Itzamune groans, clearly hating how useless he felt against something so simple.

“What really bugs me,” Lisian cuts in, fingers brushing the vials at his belt, “is I tried dispelling them. Nothing. They’re not spells. If the old man’s an elementalist, that should’ve worked.”

“Okay, so… let’s test something,” I say, turning to the old man. "If we take out the wards, elementals will handle the rest, right?”

He nods. Just once.

“Good. Then let’s move.”

We don’t make it far before I notice their faces—doubt written all over them.

"That old man’s giving me goosebumps," I mutter. "We’re out of time. I’ll use my Heartchant song to draw them out."

Lisian leans toward Caneky, whispering something I can’t catch. My hearing fuzzes out, static in my head. Then—voices. Whispers slipping into my skull, wrapping around me. A lullaby, faint, persistent.

​“Rooooooonin!” Lyra screeches, shaking me out of it.

“Yeah, keep it up! I like my Cat’s Eye well shacked,” Edna laughs from behind her.

​

I felt the ground trembling a few seconds later my feet returned to dirt. Before I could recover, everyone else broke into a run—looks like the plan started while I was out of it. Just the fae and the merfolk stay, kneeling.

“Uh… what was I saying?” I stammer.

"Sing. Attract the villagers," Itzamune says, eyes nervous but firm. He hands Edna’s flasks back, refilled with water.

Right. My job. I head straight for the dome, step by step, past an earth elemental that doesn’t even register me. It’s like I’m invisible.

​The melody crawls back into my ears and I feel it through my lips.

“Hush now, run, and don’t hide,
laugh in silence, turn with the tide.
Cover your eyes, the shadow will come…”

What? What comes next? It’s soft, like a nursery rhyme. Too simple. Too unsettling.

“Step closer once, then clap just two,
night is falling where no voice grew.
Follow the song, don’t look behind…”

​Again, the ending’s gone. But it works. Kids appear, giggling, as they step out to play.

​“Let the curtain fall, let him inside…
Children’s voices, in solemn prayer…”

And again, the last lines blur out.

But the dome cracks. Then shatters.

And in the echo, the children’s voices repeat my song—warped, twisted, too sweet, too wrong. More than eight lights flare in the dark, embers burning like living coals.

​Edna’s rushing toward me. I must’ve fallen behind in the plan again. Figures.

Then something slams into me—acid bursting across my face. The burn blinds me. Edna? Seriously?

I don’t feel the ground. I don’t feel the pain. Only his weight, crushing my head against the cobblestones. Paralyzed. Numb.

Quetza screeches, wings thrashing in the air, desperate—but the sound doesn’t reach me. The world’s gone mute.

And then, the light. Piercing through me. My whole body’s laid bare under it. It’s warm. Almost merciful. But beneath it. Pain, growing, and unmercy!.

​“Agh! Dammit! Edna, stop!” My words cut off, swallowed by his arms as he pulled me into a crushing hug.

​“Status! How is he!?” Lisian’s voice cuts sharply, panic twisting her tone.

​“He’s back,” Lyra answers, hauling Itzamune onto her shoulders. She’s hurt, feathers dulled, but her voice steadies.

​“Can, teleport. Now!” Edna snaps, dragging me close and grabbing Quetza by the belly.

​Caneky grabs me by my cloak, yanks out a napkin stamped with the tavern’s logo, and mutters an incantation. The sigil glows. Instantly, we’re dumped onto the bar counter in a tangle of limbs.

“Oh. Back already?” a familiar voice greets.