Chapter 12

In the end, it was short work to be rid of the beast. The trap we had laid worked perfectly, the plan accounting for what we understood of his powers and his might. The Druid and I formed a steel wall of defense against the beast, protecting those who he could easily lay waste to as they rained powerful spells upon him. Deflecting his blows with magically enhanced strength, we forced him into a corner to strike the killing blow.

Then, he gazed into my eyes. The protections laid against his magics bore the brunt of his psychic assault, but I saw what he wanted me to see. I saw the ill that I had let come to pass. I saw the flames and heard the screams that are so familiar to me now, as they haunt those few dreams that still come. I saw that I had made my life worthless, and, had his power not been contained, I am sure that I would have seen that the path to redemption would be by his side.

This lie was what we sought to rid the world of by taking his life, and it is a lie that I fear may outlive him. The body of the beast fell quickly, and easily, but it seemed our work was not yet over. A hideous, bug-like... *thing* emerged from the corpse, its horrible wings glistening with the thick green blood of its recent dwelling. As we struck it down, it released an ear-piercing shriek that felt as if it were an assault on our very minds themselves. In my core, I felt these words etched, not spoken: ***You Cannot Defeat The Buggo!***

As we rejoiced in the end of the grim work we had done -- for surely it seemed that he had in fact defeated the Buggo -- we realized we needed to buy some time to make our escape, as opening a door to the outside world would take so long as to give our enemies a sense of where we had gone. Indeed, the portal that we had thrown the beast through opened as the exit spell was still being cast, and so we devised a clever counter-ambush: By tying a rope around the Sorceror's waist, we were able to send him through the breach and rapidly draw him back as soon as he had launched his spell against our assailants -- the beast's mighty army, who perhaps did not know what they had lost, or perhaps were inconsolable in their rage. They were led by a robed figure, whose arms flowed with inks of ancient design and whose blood no doubt flowed with bitter and horrid magics; and Belinda, who seems cool.

We retreated through another door into a second pocket dimension, and then, finding no other exits, to the only other option: The Winter Palace, the center of the beast's operations, from which commands were made and sent to his forces. Finding it unguarded, we made quick work of any who would oppose us. We took what we could -- the beast's impressive research, records of their movements, a fascinating book meant for goblin youth but no lacking in wondrous illustration and color. We also found a book of coordinates, with enough information in it to allow us to return home when used with the teleportation ritual. We also destroyed the bodies that had been interred in the center chamber, for fear that the beast's minions could use them to reanimate him.

As we presided over the smoldering remains, our pursuers caught up to us, still no less mighty in number, and still intent on our destruction. In a moment of sheer cunning, the Holy Man wove a spell of tranquility around Belinda, who allowed us time to retreat to a defensible position as the Sorceror took us home. After a day wandering a bizarre, endless forest, we were finally able to unlock the secrets of the book of locations, which brought us -- incredibly -- home.