you approach a copse of gnardled trees, an smattering of ravens is startled by your approach and take wing. You hear heaving and grunting coming from within...
An evil wizard? Yes i am one such accursed by them. My fate is now to push this heavy sphere to the top of the hill only to have it collapse in spectacular and predictable fashion for eternity. Alas and alack . Heed the warning.
unsettled, you push ahead, the thought of being cursed to inescapable futility is a stone you cannot push from your mind.
a dark finger rises ahead of you. A basalt tower. It sits at the centre of a stone disc that becomes the fundament before you. Like a reviled sundial constructed to catch the light of a dying sun. You approach the foot of the digit. The stairs to ascend bear a deep middle groove, but moss mold and mildew have profundicated along the cold stone, suggesting that whoever resides therein rarely sallies forth.
A be-bearded individual sits at a stone slab, eyes fixated upon a spectral sphere in front of them. It projects an arcane filtered light of turquoise and magenta onto the wall behind them. Casting your eyes to the space beside the figure you encounter a scroll. Words surface unabated upon the surface of the parchment inked by no human hand.
The hooded one speaks: It is not me. I be not he. I am just orb pondering wizard. But do heed the warning about the Evil doer his designs are inscrutable
Now make thee scarce, these scritterings and flitterings within the globe do vex me
The sense of unease that was not but a bean in the recess of your mind has now sprouted. A vine grows forth. From the south-and-east a chill wind blows. As though a shadow were lifted, a clarion thought pierces through the fog. I must go to The Lake
No ill befalls you. No souls make themselves known to you. Your destination is clear even if your goal eludes you.
You follow the creek that feeds the body of water. Field becomes hill becomes loam becomes dune and the lake lays before you. Sword grass and sedge choke the mouth of the feeble stream. Emenating from within, you hear a croak. Then another. And a third. You are drawn inexorably to the sound...
the evil warlock junps out and turns you into a toad lmao