The company left Bridgetower with little ceremony the following morning. The air was crisp and a layer of frost covered most of the rooftops and what few patches of grass spotted the courtyard between the shops and vendor stalls. The breath of horses and humans escaped in clumps of mist in the early dawn.
Coerraine and Erevan loaded the ox-drawn cart Fen had arranged for them. When the cart was loaded, they covered their “wares” with a nondescript tarp.
Duor loudly “supervised” the handling of the chests and sacks of treasure.
Haelan arranged with Mrs. Pottle the safekeeping of the hen, Elsie. She was not to be used for cooking, only her eggs. Mrs. Pottle was more than agreeable, and noted the whole staff would be made aware of the “Hilltender’s Holy Hen.” He then stopped by the smith’s forge to collect his surprised. He approached the cart half-dragging the large wrapped flat bundle that was nearly the size the daelvar was, himself.
When Erevan asked about the item, Haelan proudly unwrapped the item to reveal Braddok’s shield. It was fully restored and burnished with a fresh swallowtail hawk painted over the mended metal in shining black.
“He did a beautiful job, didn’t he? Braddok will be pleased to have his old shield back, I think. Kinda a ‘welcome home’ present. Do you think he’ll like it?” Haelan asked hopefully.
The elf smiled down at the well-meaning cleric. “I think he’ll be very pleased indeed, Haelan. You are a good and thoughtful friend.”
Haelan smiled broadly.
Fen came walking up leading the four horses offered to the company for their ride to Shafton in full tack and ready to go. “Have we seen our fearless leader yet this morning?” the druid asked his companions.
“Said she had somethin’ t’do with the ‘Tower wizard. Ah, there she is.” Duor offered off-handedly.
Alaria and the wizard, Stenthil, walked slowly across the courtyard. Following their stint of identifying the items from Shafton, the previous day, Alaria had requested any and all information Stenthil had in his library about shadow snakes. She had spent a bit of time perusing the various entries, familiarizing herself with their three different types. The most powerful of which were, the mages had to admit, quite formidable. Alaria found herself sincerely hoping that the dark wizard did not have the power to conjure such a creature from the shadow realms.
Following that, she had asked Stenthil what means he might have or know about to thwart divinations upon one’s person. In exchange for the ring of protection, the wizard offered to cast an incantation of Misdirection for the group upon their leaving. This, the mage assured, should keep any arcane eyes off of the R’Hathi wizardess for most of the first day of their journey to the Vale.
He also scribed for her a scroll wth the same spell. Alaria did not have nor desire to use the time to transcribe into her own book that night, but was thankful to have it nonetheless and hoped to have some time to do so once they’d arrived at the village of Farthing Cross at the end of the day (one day out from the Vale).
With the reassurance that they could travel at least the day without being scried, the company had decided to make straight for the Vale. To get the Ihs Repahl out of Tresahd’s encroaching reach.
“Have you decided on a suitable distraction, Magess?” Stenthil asked kindly.
The magess instructed the Bridgetower wizard to cast the spell upon one of the few trees that grew in a small patch of yard within the keep’s courtyard.
“That’ll do nicely.” Stenthil approved.
She explained the magical ruse to her companions with Stenthil. “I will return into the main tower, where we already know [or rather very much hope, Alaria admitted silently] Tresahd cannot pierce. You all mount and make ready to leave. Stenthil shall cast the misdirecting enchantment and I shall then come out and join you and we will be off.
“With any luck, if he is watching, it should appear that you are traveling on and I am remaining. Captain Rynthis has been kind enough to agree to let us use something within the keep walls to further the misconception. He is sure Bridgetower would prove enough of a deterent should the wizard make it all the way here before the spell runs out.” Alaria concluded the plan they had all formed and heard several times so far. It was evident to all that the news from Rynthis had shaken the generally unflappable magess.
Everyone agreed and took their places. As the cart with Duor and Haelan in the seat was pulling away, Festus came running out from the tower in his course patchy traveling cloak. The satyr toted his weapons, bedroll, several full wineskins and a broad smile. He lept up into the back of the cart.
“Captain Rynthis thinks you should have a proper guide to get you to the Vale with all speed.” He laughed and uncorked one of the skins for a swig. “Let’s hit the road!”
Everyone was happy for the satyr’s return, including it seemed Buttercream who jumped up into the cart after the satyr and quickly curled herself into a comfortable ball.
Alaria and Coerraine thought it a bit early to be hitting the bottle but kept all comments to themselves, focused on the unfolding plan.
The paladin, elf, and druid mounted their horses and all made a good show of saying farewell to Stenthil and Alaria before the magess turned to return to the tower.
Stenthil made his way to the fruit stand. He lazily picked up and checked out various apples and pears before Alaria entered the tower. Then he darted to the side of the stand and cast his spell upon the tree. The fruit vendor who had been smiling and making morning small talk with the kindly wizard was shocked at the behavior but, figuring wizard business is wizard business and there was no accounting for it, simply shrugged and went back to arranging his display crates.
Not ten minutes out the gates, Alaria came trotting up on her grey-dappled filly.
Coerraine and Erevan rode ahead of the slow cart with Alaria and Fen riding behind. The paladin, of course, rode with shield and crimson shining for all to see. Erevan and Fen were sure to keep themselves hooded, as did Alaria. In the cold morning, covering their heads was no inconvenience at all.
The sight of a cart with an armed escort moving through Daenfrii these days should raise no notice or suspicion…or so the party told themselves, in case Treshad had any agents in the surrounding countryside.
The rising day proved to be bright and sunny, which should make for few shadowy hiding places along the road, they hoped. Alaria’s cursory scan with her magic-sensing sight did not reveal any shadow snakes to her. Haelan and Fen were both prepared to periodically use the invocation of magical detection periodically through their travel to make sure.
It wasn’t long before they were nearing the Inn of the Wyvern’s Wing. Festus took it as a good time to jump out of the cart and rush in for another try at a “good luck” kiss from the barmaid, Amber.
“And grab some of those wonderful pasties!” Haelan called and threw the satyr a few coins. An hour or so later, the ranger caught up with the lumbering ox cart and company.
“It was a bit early for the pasties to be ready”, Festus explained.
“Yeh get a kiss, this time?” Duor asked.
Festus easily climbed into the slow moving cart and launched into a long telling of the luscious lips of the woman and glorious skill with which he seduced the barmaid, leaving her in a swoon pleading to satisfy the lusty satyr’s “ample attributes.”
Haelan blushed visibly despite his cheeks being already rosy from the cold.
“But I told her I was on a mission of great importance and she would have to await my triumphant return. I told her the kiss would have to do. A heroes work is never done, you know.” The satyr concluded with a leering grin.
Duor burst into guffaws and said to Haelan, though plenty loud enough for the satyr to hear, “Pah! She wouldn’t touch him.” The dwarf laughed again loudly.
The satyr took good-natured umbrage and shared the next wineskin with the dwarf. Haelan politely refused.
The morning passed into midday and midday passed into afternoon. Their progress was slower than Alaria liked, but with the laden cart and an ox instead of horses, there was little they could do to increase their speed.
It was predetermined that if anything befell them, Alaria should and would bolt for the Vale, with Fen as a protector, with all speed. It was just a contingency plan none had any hopes of implementing. The wizardess had agreed to the idea of the plan, but was still concerned. For as much as Alaria’s concern was keeping the Wind Soul out of the dark wizard’s reach, neither could they allow anything to befall their hard-won treasure that was needed to pay for Braddok’s return from the lands of the dead. She was not sure she would be able to abandon her companions (and the treasure) if it became necessary.
What they could or would do for the remainder of the fee was a bridge they had agreed, with minor objection from Duor who had what Haelan had called “dragon’s horde on the brain”, would be crossed in Dragonwing Vale.
Coerraine and Erevan loaded the ox-drawn cart Fen had arranged for them. When the cart was loaded, they covered their “wares” with a nondescript tarp.
Duor loudly “supervised” the handling of the chests and sacks of treasure.
Haelan arranged with Mrs. Pottle the safekeeping of the hen, Elsie. She was not to be used for cooking, only her eggs. Mrs. Pottle was more than agreeable, and noted the whole staff would be made aware of the “Hilltender’s Holy Hen.” He then stopped by the smith’s forge to collect his surprised. He approached the cart half-dragging the large wrapped flat bundle that was nearly the size the daelvar was, himself.
When Erevan asked about the item, Haelan proudly unwrapped the item to reveal Braddok’s shield. It was fully restored and burnished with a fresh swallowtail hawk painted over the mended metal in shining black.
“He did a beautiful job, didn’t he? Braddok will be pleased to have his old shield back, I think. Kinda a ‘welcome home’ present. Do you think he’ll like it?” Haelan asked hopefully.
The elf smiled down at the well-meaning cleric. “I think he’ll be very pleased indeed, Haelan. You are a good and thoughtful friend.”
Haelan smiled broadly.
Fen came walking up leading the four horses offered to the company for their ride to Shafton in full tack and ready to go. “Have we seen our fearless leader yet this morning?” the druid asked his companions.
“Said she had somethin’ t’do with the ‘Tower wizard. Ah, there she is.” Duor offered off-handedly.
Alaria and the wizard, Stenthil, walked slowly across the courtyard. Following their stint of identifying the items from Shafton, the previous day, Alaria had requested any and all information Stenthil had in his library about shadow snakes. She had spent a bit of time perusing the various entries, familiarizing herself with their three different types. The most powerful of which were, the mages had to admit, quite formidable. Alaria found herself sincerely hoping that the dark wizard did not have the power to conjure such a creature from the shadow realms.
Following that, she had asked Stenthil what means he might have or know about to thwart divinations upon one’s person. In exchange for the ring of protection, the wizard offered to cast an incantation of Misdirection for the group upon their leaving. This, the mage assured, should keep any arcane eyes off of the R’Hathi wizardess for most of the first day of their journey to the Vale.
He also scribed for her a scroll wth the same spell. Alaria did not have nor desire to use the time to transcribe into her own book that night, but was thankful to have it nonetheless and hoped to have some time to do so once they’d arrived at the village of Farthing Cross at the end of the day (one day out from the Vale).
With the reassurance that they could travel at least the day without being scried, the company had decided to make straight for the Vale. To get the Ihs Repahl out of Tresahd’s encroaching reach.
“Have you decided on a suitable distraction, Magess?” Stenthil asked kindly.
The magess instructed the Bridgetower wizard to cast the spell upon one of the few trees that grew in a small patch of yard within the keep’s courtyard.
“That’ll do nicely.” Stenthil approved.
She explained the magical ruse to her companions with Stenthil. “I will return into the main tower, where we already know [or rather very much hope, Alaria admitted silently] Tresahd cannot pierce. You all mount and make ready to leave. Stenthil shall cast the misdirecting enchantment and I shall then come out and join you and we will be off.
“With any luck, if he is watching, it should appear that you are traveling on and I am remaining. Captain Rynthis has been kind enough to agree to let us use something within the keep walls to further the misconception. He is sure Bridgetower would prove enough of a deterent should the wizard make it all the way here before the spell runs out.” Alaria concluded the plan they had all formed and heard several times so far. It was evident to all that the news from Rynthis had shaken the generally unflappable magess.
Everyone agreed and took their places. As the cart with Duor and Haelan in the seat was pulling away, Festus came running out from the tower in his course patchy traveling cloak. The satyr toted his weapons, bedroll, several full wineskins and a broad smile. He lept up into the back of the cart.
“Captain Rynthis thinks you should have a proper guide to get you to the Vale with all speed.” He laughed and uncorked one of the skins for a swig. “Let’s hit the road!”
Everyone was happy for the satyr’s return, including it seemed Buttercream who jumped up into the cart after the satyr and quickly curled herself into a comfortable ball.
Alaria and Coerraine thought it a bit early to be hitting the bottle but kept all comments to themselves, focused on the unfolding plan.
The paladin, elf, and druid mounted their horses and all made a good show of saying farewell to Stenthil and Alaria before the magess turned to return to the tower.
Stenthil made his way to the fruit stand. He lazily picked up and checked out various apples and pears before Alaria entered the tower. Then he darted to the side of the stand and cast his spell upon the tree. The fruit vendor who had been smiling and making morning small talk with the kindly wizard was shocked at the behavior but, figuring wizard business is wizard business and there was no accounting for it, simply shrugged and went back to arranging his display crates.
Not ten minutes out the gates, Alaria came trotting up on her grey-dappled filly.
Coerraine and Erevan rode ahead of the slow cart with Alaria and Fen riding behind. The paladin, of course, rode with shield and crimson shining for all to see. Erevan and Fen were sure to keep themselves hooded, as did Alaria. In the cold morning, covering their heads was no inconvenience at all.
The sight of a cart with an armed escort moving through Daenfrii these days should raise no notice or suspicion…or so the party told themselves, in case Treshad had any agents in the surrounding countryside.
The rising day proved to be bright and sunny, which should make for few shadowy hiding places along the road, they hoped. Alaria’s cursory scan with her magic-sensing sight did not reveal any shadow snakes to her. Haelan and Fen were both prepared to periodically use the invocation of magical detection periodically through their travel to make sure.
It wasn’t long before they were nearing the Inn of the Wyvern’s Wing. Festus took it as a good time to jump out of the cart and rush in for another try at a “good luck” kiss from the barmaid, Amber.
“And grab some of those wonderful pasties!” Haelan called and threw the satyr a few coins. An hour or so later, the ranger caught up with the lumbering ox cart and company.
“It was a bit early for the pasties to be ready”, Festus explained.
“Yeh get a kiss, this time?” Duor asked.
Festus easily climbed into the slow moving cart and launched into a long telling of the luscious lips of the woman and glorious skill with which he seduced the barmaid, leaving her in a swoon pleading to satisfy the lusty satyr’s “ample attributes.”
Haelan blushed visibly despite his cheeks being already rosy from the cold.
“But I told her I was on a mission of great importance and she would have to await my triumphant return. I told her the kiss would have to do. A heroes work is never done, you know.” The satyr concluded with a leering grin.
Duor burst into guffaws and said to Haelan, though plenty loud enough for the satyr to hear, “Pah! She wouldn’t touch him.” The dwarf laughed again loudly.
The satyr took good-natured umbrage and shared the next wineskin with the dwarf. Haelan politely refused.
The morning passed into midday and midday passed into afternoon. Their progress was slower than Alaria liked, but with the laden cart and an ox instead of horses, there was little they could do to increase their speed.
It was predetermined that if anything befell them, Alaria should and would bolt for the Vale, with Fen as a protector, with all speed. It was just a contingency plan none had any hopes of implementing. The wizardess had agreed to the idea of the plan, but was still concerned. For as much as Alaria’s concern was keeping the Wind Soul out of the dark wizard’s reach, neither could they allow anything to befall their hard-won treasure that was needed to pay for Braddok’s return from the lands of the dead. She was not sure she would be able to abandon her companions (and the treasure) if it became necessary.
What they could or would do for the remainder of the fee was a bridge they had agreed, with minor objection from Duor who had what Haelan had called “dragon’s horde on the brain”, would be crossed in Dragonwing Vale.
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