RAVEN'S GAMBIT | Part 20: Flight and Flame
A hush fell over the warband as they waited—scarred, tired, and caked with blood and grime—every eye trained on the cavern ceiling where Lira Valesong had disappeared in pursuit of the vampire's misty form.
No one spoke.
Seren Willowmere worked on Elowyn Mosswhisper—still seemingly lifeless but not yet dead.
“She may yet recover,” Seren Willowmere offered some hope. Theron Blackroot knelt in silence, hands curled tight around the hilt of his blade.
Then—movement.
Bruno “Brick” Riker rose, brushing dust from his coat. He stared at the geyser-timed platform gauntlet that had claimed so many of their number.
"Can’t wait on faith alone," Brick muttered. "Some of us have to move."
He watched the near geyser. Waited. Timed the rhythm. Counted the breaths.
Then he leapt—
First platform: slam. Stable.
Second: He slipped— barely caught the edge, muscles straining as he hauled himself up.
Third: Landed hard. The far geyser erupted, sending steam skyward.
Fourth: Clear.
Fifth: The first geyser hissed and spat, catching him in its scalding edge—he cursed, steam rising from his back.
Sixth: He waited, panting. The far geyser blew.
Seventh: Clean leap.
Eighth: He hit the wood, slipped hard—
“S**t!”
—but his thick fingers caught a chain link. One last heave, and he was on it, chest heaving.
Then: HHHRRRSSHHHHH!!!
The geyser exploded beside him, and when the steam cleared, the platform shook and wobbled under him, barely stable.
Back on the ledge, Hachiro Noboru gritted his teeth.
“I don’t think it’s even possible to cross naturally,” the samurai gasped, shaking his head.
The group stood stunned, hopelessness crawling like frost across their hearts.
Then—
“Heads up!”
A voice rang from above.
They looked up to see a familiar silhouette cutting through the air, gliding just beyond the reach of the geysers.
Lira Valesong, face flushed and triumphant, held a pack overflowing with gold, scrolls, and a blackened warhammer stake.
“Coffin dusted,” she grinned, flying lower, weaving through steam and heat. “That leech’s gone for good.”
Cheers broke out—the first sound of hope in what felt like hours.
Lira touched down, stumbling slightly as the last flickers of the flight potion faded from her veins.
Hachiro caught her arm, steadying her.
“You did it,” he said quietly.
She looked up at him, sweaty and ash-streaked, and smiled.
“One dead vampire and enough loot to retire… if we live through this.”
A silence fell once more—not heavy, but filled with resolve.
There was more mountain to conquer.
And White Plume wasn’t done with them yet.