For locations, consult the map of the Ebonwood Region on homepage.
The totem pole stared silently down at Professor Mila Abrams. She figured it must have been around seventy feet tall and probably carved of red cedar like many of the others in the Sierra Nevada Mountains.
They were in the Western portion of the Sierras at the base of a particularly enormous mountain called Split Cloud Peak, which was revered by the area’s Native tribes. Patchy snow covered its upper regions and fog permeated its lower, forested areas.
This totem had what appeared to be a fox at the very top and beneath that, a larger human head with wings sprouting out from where the ears would be. A humanoid body was beneath that which held a small figure within each hand. The rest of the totem pole was obscured by a tall, slatted steel fence with a padlocked door at its center. Some of the fence’s slats were covered in graffiti.
The fence spanned the width of an immense, teardrop-shaped cave opening. Two men were currently unlocking the locked gate and a third, taller man stood by to one side. All four of them wore outdoor clothing with reflective vests with the letters “APRI”—which stood for Algen Paranormal Research Institute—emblazoned across their front and back sides. Each of them was also equipped with wooden torches.
Dr. Bianchi called out to her in his slight Spanish accent. “Impressive, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Very,” she answered, looking at the totem pole through the fog. She could barely make out its top.
Doctor Claudio Bianchi was a brilliant geologist from Argentina. He was also the head of the Exploratory Department at the nearby branch of APRI, nestled in the Red Feather Valley north of Farsdale. The other two men were employees of APRI who worked for Dr. Bianchi—she knew them only by their last names. The short, middle-aged, overweight man was Nichols; while the young, slender one was Brannon.
“Our guide from the Mekoshe tribe told us this totem pole was crafted by the Whilowhen tribe,” Dr. Bianchi exclaimed.
“Yeah, I figured. I’ve seen some similar ones scattered around Ebonwood.”
Dr. Bianchi looked at Prof. Abrams curiously. “How could you tell?”
She pointed at the totem’s hands. “See those smaller figures in the hands? Some of the other ones have those too. We’re not really sure what they represent but we’ve come across a couple of dolls that the Whilowhen left behind. They could represent the dolls.”
“Totem poles aren’t native to this area, right?” Dr. Bianchi asked.
“No. They’re mainly found in the northwest regions—Washington State, Alaska, British Columbia…”
Dr. Bianchi looked slightly perplexed. “I wonder when the Whilowhen first brought that cultural aspect here with them.”
“I hired a dendrochronologist to do some radiocarbon dating on one of the larger totem poles like this one.”
“What were the results?”
Prof. Abrams looked down at the ground in dismay. “There were none. At the site, he apparently had some sort of nervous breakdown. He’s been suffering from mental health issues ever since.”
“The local folklore must have gotten him, then?”
Prof. Abrams shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve been in touch with a Professor William Hagel. You’ve probably heard of him; he’s an archeology expert who’s been studying Ebonwood for years.”
Dr. Bianchi nodded. “Yes, of course—he’s an award-winning scholar.”
“He had some rare data that he wanted to share with me and was scheduled to meet with me at the Tryffid Inn a few days ago. But he never showed up and I can’t seem to reach him.”
The chains around the gate fell to the ground and the two other men turned to Dr. Bianchi, who in turn looked at Prof. Abrams and smiled.
“Let’s go,” she said.
Dr. Bianchi unslung his torch from his utility belt and held a large lighter to its head. He lit it ablaze and the others followed his actions in kind. A pronounced squeaking noise sounded as Brannon pulled the large door open. The four walked through the gate door led by Prof. Abrams and Dr. Bianchi, with Nichols and Brannon taking up the rear.
Now Prof. Abrams could see the bottom of the totem pole. Beneath each of the humanoid figure’s feet were two large heads with what appeared to be red tears streaking down their cheeks.
“That’s odd. I haven’t seen these types of carvings before,” Prof. Abrams remarked.
Dr. Bianchi kept walking towards the cave entrance without looking at the totem. “We thought so too when we first discovered this cave.”
Prof. Abrams caught up with him. “You said this was one of the major caves that you discovered…”
Dr. Bianchi stopped in front of the cave opening, which must have been over eighty feet in height. “We gated this one-off because our guide had mentioned that the Whilowhen considered it special. It was a great research opportunity.”
Nichols chimed in from behind them. “Yeah, we just call it Cave Number 112.”
Prof. Abrams looked back at him. “You mean…as in there are over a hundred caves around here?”
“That’s right,” Nichols answered.
Dr. Bianchi waved his hands all around. “The Caves of Mourn encompass 143 caves, at least that’s how many we’ve documented so far. We’ve only explored about half of them; many ended up in dead ends while some others connect to each other.”
Prof. Abrams looked knew that the caves were so named because they had an unusual geographic feature to them—their entrances were shaped like teardrops. “And you mentioned before that only a few of the larger ones have totems outside of them?”
“That’s right, so it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that there must be something special about them…” Dr. Bianchi’s sentence trailed off into a snickering, high-pitched laugh.
Prof. Abrams knew that he was being ironic since he’d been IQ tested and was technically considered a genius. Still, she found his sense of humor strange and often unfunny. She did consider him attractive, however. His mid-length dark hair framed a long face with angular features, with green eyes that sparkled with immense intellect. She wondered if he found her attractive at all. She was middle-aged, like him, with dark blond hair and a sturdy, yet comely, Midwestern appeal that men of all ages seemed to find attractive. Like him, she wore glasses.
They gazed into the cave’s maw for a moment. It was impenetrably dark after twenty or so feet. They began walking in.