And in the middle of the night, something still blew up

The day the party reached the horizon, they had collectively determined they had no idea what to do about it.

“Well, we’re here,” the monk leader said. She stared at the horizon, now within arm’s reach, with some distaste.

The rogue tapped his fingers against his belt. “And?”


“I’m going to blow it up,” said their mage.

The rest of the party immediately dismissed her idea.

The ranger cleared her throat. “Heading for the horizon seemed like a great idea until we realized it was an actual destination. Does that mean it’s the same the opposite direction?”

The rogue sneered. “You aren’t going to tell me the world’s flat.”

“Then what is the deal with this?”

“Enough!” the monk exclaimed. The rogue and ranger quietened, though continued to shoot metaphorical daggers at each other. “Here we are. This is the horizon.”

“It’s pretty,” the mage commented.

“We aren’t going to have lost our paladin on the way here for nothing.”

The group looked over the horizon and into nothingness. The ranger sighed. “I’m going home soon, so you’d better decide soon.”

“Me?” the monk asked.

“You are the one least likely to have some ulterior motive behind what is done here,” the rogue pointed out.

That wasn’t true, though perhaps the other’s thought that was the case. The monk sighed and folded her arms across her chest. “We’ll rest here. I will decide in the morning.”

The others moved back from the horizon and set up camp. The monk stared at the horizon for a bit longer, before looking over at the ever quiet barbarian. “Keep an eye on the mage, will you?”

He nodded. Certain that the mage wouldn’t succeed in blowing something up that night, the monk went to meditate on her next decision.


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