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Company of Chaos - All Around Golarion
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<blockquote data-quote="Lwaxy" data-source="post: 5863314" data-attributes="member: 53286"><p>Thanks to eye and joint issues, I'm slow typing at the moment. I hope the story won't run away from me - but then we have extensive notes this time around. <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite2" alt=";)" title="Wink ;)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=";)" /> </p><p></p><p>As usual, we made some minor story relevant changes to the adventure, mainly for season and that it makes no sense for creatures to "fight to the death" all the time, or to fight at all. I also wanted the pact with the worg and his pack to happen so I'm glad that for once, they didn't have other ideas there. </p><p></p><p>The change in destination was the idea of Mook's player, who used one of the karma points I hand out to make it happen (after discussing it with me beforehand of course, needs to make sense with where the adventures are). </p><p></p><p></p><p>-----------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p></p><p>Getting the moss fro the elder tree had been no problem, despite making the gruesome discovery of dead bodies tied in the branches. They had found the cause to be a tatzelwyrm, but some substance Edawon had thrown, reluctantly as the half-orc had thought, had caused the thing to run. </p><p></p><p>Now it was midmorning. After a rather difficult path up and down a densely overgrown hill, the two snow covered travelers arrived at the next point indicated on their makeshift map. The sounds of the forest became suddenly distant as the trees part, opening into a small, almost perfectly circular glade. The nearest stands of pine, eyln, and darkwood - all typically sturdy woods - twisted away from the clearing, as if bent by some impossibly strong wind or seemingly in an attempt to flee despite their paralyzed roots. At the glade’s center squatted an ugly cottage, little more than a pile of twigs, shoots, and ivy stacked upon mud walls. From the thatched roof dangled bundles of gnarled roots, old dried beast carcasses, and knucklebone bangles, all clattering together like gruesome wind chimes. A dozen small thatched fetishes, each shaped like a tiny man, imp, or rearing serpent, stood propped in the yard, keeping guard before a rickety plank door.</p><p></p><p>"Sure looks inviting," Majek mumbled. The fox, lugged in Edawon's backpack, agreed with a whimpering sound. </p><p></p><p>"There hasn't anyone been here for a while," Edawon said, pointing at the rotten door. "Something must have happened to the witch."</p><p></p><p>"Meh... think we can still find what we are looking for?" Majek passed by the various figures, not feeling threatened by them. </p><p></p><p>"Probably. Rat's tail is valuable for years if preserved right, and this place looks as if the former inhabitant had the habit of preserving all sorts of things."</p><p></p><p>"Hope you are right." With little difficulty, Majek pushed the rotten door aside. Inside, the cottage was dank, reeking, and filled with shadows. Haphazardly hung shelves lined the walls, covered in all manner of clay jugs, clouded bottles, strangely cut rocks, rotted bunches of herbs, and a museum of other crude curios and remnants of a bone grinder’s artifice. A rusted iron cauldron, with a wide mouth wide and deep enough for a small person to crawl inside dominated the hut’s single room, its ash-covered surface shaped with a relief of capering fiends and leering devils.</p><p></p><p>By luck or magic, no weather seemed to have affected the inside of the place but the alchemist saw something rather disturbing. Across from the door, against the far walls, stands a high-backed chair made of wicker, the gigantic curved tusks of some monstrous beast, and thousands of human teeth. In the chair was what looks like a corpse wrapped in filthy burial linens, its form padded with pungent herbs and sprouting patches of thick white mold. "I am not sure I want to have anything to do with this place," the half-orc stated and took a step back. "There is definitely some dark magic involved, even if the corpse does not look real. Just look at the chair."</p><p></p><p>"Corpse?" The halfling pushed into the room, passing his companion. "Yeah that's a fake. Probably put here to make possible visitors think someone was home. Weird enough. And I agree about the chair." Careful not to touch anything, the ranger looked around the place. After several minutes of squinting and sniffing, he finally pointed to a peg at the wall close to the door. "There. Lots of rat's tail, and it still smells like, well, rat's tail. Means it still has the essentials to be used."</p><p></p><p>"Great. I guess it would have been more difficult to get that while the witch was still here." The half-orc could barely reach the peg without anything to stand on but he managed without having to use any of the benches standing around. The less they touched, the better. "Now let's go." </p><p></p><p>As he was about to stow away the rat's tail, the cauldron they had not paid much attention to suddenly came alive with a loud clatter and hurled itself at Majek. With a shriek not sounding like a half-orc at all, Majek rushed out of the hut and across the weird yard, back up the hill they had come down from. He almost lost the rat's tail in the process. He scolded himself as he brushed snow out of his hair, having fallen into a bush. He had been to the golden city and he had seen worse things. Maybe it had been the presence of black magic affecting him, or maybe it was the whole location so far off from any civilization. </p><p></p><p>Hest followed more slowly. "It didn't bother me. Looks like a guardian only attacking who disturbs the place."</p><p></p><p>"Yeah. That's just great. Whatever. Let's get going." Majek finished dusting himself off and placing the rat's tail safely in his pouch. "I have a feeling it will be worse at this monastery. Who knows, maybe we will be dealing with ghosts or some such. You know, of we keep doing this, we really should find a cleric to join us. Maybe a priest of Iomedae. Or, at least, we should wait until our undead fighting paladin is with us again." </p><p></p><p>"We haven't seen any ghosts yet," Edawon frowned. "I'm frankly more worried about wolves and other unfriendly creatures." </p><p></p><p>"Yeah," the alchemist sighed. "That, too." </p><p></p><p>They arrived at the ruined monastery shortly after midday. The sun was bright, and there was no new snow in sight. To Edawon, that was a good thing because when they neared the old buildings, he could check for any trails with little difficulty. Sitting squat at the foot of an imposing mountain, the ruins stood between ancient gnarled trees. Made of simple stone blocks, worn smooth with the passage of time, the stout building was falling apart. Sections of the slanted shale roof had collapsed and portions of the outer wall had crumbled. Small bare twigs striving to once be big trees and wild thorn plants brown from cold and covered heavily in snow ran rampant across the field leading up to the place, leaving only the slightest indication of a path that ended at the ruined front doors. Beyond, a messy yard yard waited in shadow. Before entering the yard, the path passed between a pair of old stone statues. While one of them was little more than rubble, the other was relatively intact. The 5-foot-tall statue looked incredibly worn but it could still be made out as a dwarf holding aloft a great stone hammer. Moss and creeper vines would likely cover most of its surface in warmer days, but as the leaves had all gone, Edawon removed a thin sheet of snow around the base to uncover an old dwarven inscription that read “All praise” and something scratched away, as if to defile the original purpose of the place. A crow cawed somewhere to warn the world of their approach.</p><p></p><p>"You know," Majek mused, "how in the old stories a name made unreadable usually means something very sinister is at work?"</p><p></p><p>The ranger nodded and moved on. "It usually is in the real world, too." It sounded like he had experience with this sort of thing, which did not help to ease the nervousness the half-orc was beginning to show. </p><p></p><p>Tall grasses and chunks of stone debris had all </p><p>but overtaken the small yard. The now dead patches of grass and the debris was covered in knee hight snow at places where the wind had made drifts, but was only ankle deep in most areas, but the ground was hard to see and very uneven. Off to one side, a wooden stable had collapsed into a mound of rotting timbers and moldy straw. The outer wall on the east side had also collapsed, leaving a ragged hole. Three doors exit into this yard, a pair of double doors to the east, a single door to the north, and a lone door leading into the squat tower in the southeast corner. A trail of hoofsteps led to the tower. </p><p></p><p>Majek looked up and around at the snow covered walls.The wet snow had stuck to the surface in some places and falling off in others, making it impossible to see if there were any more inscriptions or maybe pictures. Not paying enough attention to the ground, the alchemist suddenly bumped into something and nearly lost his balance. He found himself in the northwest corner of the small yard and what he had bumped into was an old well almost completely snowed in. A frozen rope went down to equally frozen water. Majek shook his head and resolved to be more attentive. Sure, in the stories, it was often the case a foe would attack from above where no one looked, but it wouldn't help to look up to be killed by falling into a frozen well. For some reason, the thought made him chuckle. "Can we even find those mushrooms in the snow?" he wondered aloud. </p><p></p><p>"Yeah, they mostly grow in buildings and usually dry up in winter. They are even better dry. But we won't check out this tower," the ranger pointed to where the hoofprints lead. "The buck went in and did not come out. That's not a good thing and gives us reason to give it a wide berth."</p><p></p><p>"How do you know that's a buck? Couldn't it be a female?" Carefully, the half-orc made it to the stable and looked inside. Asides from a few bones looking to be from a donkey or pony, he could not see anything. </p><p></p><p>"A female would have a wider hip," the ranger simply said as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. Majek wanted to inquire on that, but then he found the wolf prints. He pointed to them. "Maybe the wolves got him then?"</p><p></p><p>"No, there are no wolf prints going into the tower. My guess is someone made a lair there. Let's check everything but," Edawon grinned. "As for the wolves, they have a bad reputation but are usually fine with leaving people alone unless they are very hungry, and there is enough prey around here."</p><p></p><p>"What if they are led by a larger wolf? A dire wolf of sorts?" Majek pointed to a set of larger prints. </p><p></p><p>"Well, that could be a problem," the halfling agreed. "But we are not alone here in any case. There is at least one kobold about, and the way it hopped around over here he was not happy with the weather." Edawon followed the prints to the door in the west. "Maybe an outcast of the kobolds Kronk needs help with."</p><p></p><p>"Or a sentinel," the alchimist thought. Something tickled his nose and he looked up again. A light snow had started to fall. "We might want to catch it in any case, just so we won't have to deal with a whole lot of them."</p><p></p><p>"Yeah, or be quick and avoid it." Edawon pushed the slightly open doors wider and peered inside. Beyond the double doors was a small dark hall. Littered with mounds of debris and a year’s worth of dead leaves and trails of several weeks of snow, it was clear that a narrow path wound inside. The room ahead had no doors anymore. The opening led into the former sanctum. Pews of darkwood were tipped over and covered in dust on either side of this ancient shrine. At the far end stood a large ceremonial anvil, but its surface was defaced and ruined. The halfling shook his head as he could see no mushrooms around. </p><p></p><p>The half-orc moved north, following the faint wolf tracks in the corridor. They led to a large, damaged chamber. Gaping holes in the roof allowed faint light and snow to enter. One of the stone columns that once supported the ceiling was toppled, its broken pieces littering the floor. A thick patch of black, dried mushrooms was hiding in a nearby corner, giving the room an earthy scent that was barely noticeable above the stench of wet fur. "I think I found what we need... but the wolves, too, I reckon," Majek called back.</p><p></p><p>Edawon joined him just when a large, grey, wolf-like beast jumped up from behind the ruined column, baring its teeth and growling like mad. "That's not a dire wolf, that's a worg," the ranger said drily. "Good day to you, master worg. We have no intention to fight you or the pack you have acquired. We only need some of the mushrooms over there."</p><p></p><p>"They are mine," the worg replied in a growling voice which was hard to understand. Majek was shocked about it at first, but then remembered worgs had magic in them and were no ordinary animals. </p><p></p><p>"Of course, but wolves and worgs have little need for them now, do they? Maybe we can pay you though? Hunt for you so you can rest tonight?" </p><p></p><p>"Do I look like I can't hunt myself? We enjoy the hunt, we live for the hunt. Maybe you would make good prey?" The eyes of the worg seemed to glow. </p><p></p><p>"We certainly don't make good prey," Majek said casually and showed his hammer and short sword. "We've dealt with an undead old dragon not too long ago, you are really not comparable to that." Nothing of it was a lie, as he didn't know if the beast could sense lies, but of course it was a bit of bending the truth. </p><p></p><p>"So you did?" The worg seemed to chuckle. "In that case, you may be able to be of use after all. Let's make a deal, then. Here's the problem..."</p><p></p><p>When they left with the mushrooms about an hour later, they had made an unbreakable pact with the help of what looked like an item looted from the hut of the long gone witch. They had made it for their whole group, too – for their pack to aid the worg's pack – and they fully intended to honor it after having heard the details. Both hoped the others would see it the same way. </p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>The caravan in the south was stopping at a frozen creek about the same time. A few rocks, some low hills and a few evergreen trees stopped the cold winds coming from the north, and the midday meal was rather cheerful. Tiva and Zayel had been exchanging stories, with Mook listening and making a comment here and there. Others were grouped around a larger fire, but the desire of the young folk to talk alone for a bit was respected. </p><p></p><p>By now, Tiva knew of Mook's stuttering problem and oracle curses and even that Zayel was not completely of elven blood and knew, in fact, little of his pointed eared fellows, having grown up among humans for the most part. Tiva, so they had learned, hungered for knowledge other than how to summon things and a few spells here and there other magic users would take for granted anyway. That was the other reason why she had run. "You know," she was just explaining, "my helper – and older student at the guild – always said you do not need to be worried if life gives you lemons, as the saying goes. It is when you don't get any lemons you need to find a way to get them yourself."</p><p></p><p>"Lemons were very rare where I grew up," Zayel said without being specific. He had decided on claiming he was from "the north" somewhere but would nheed to talk to his da first to see what he thought about it. "So I definitely agree that getting thekm is not a bad thing. Mook would probably... Mook?" Only now he noticed that the oracle had been staring into the fire for a few minutes with a strange expression he knew all too well. "Oh in the name of all the good gods, she has a vision." It didn't happen like that all too often, but he had witnessed it a few times, and it always meant some sort of trouble or change of plans or bad news.</p><p></p><p>"I take it that's not good thing!" Tiva threw the bare bones of the bird wing she had been eating into the flames and stared at the gnome. "Does it happen a lot?" </p><p></p><p>"Nah, but it's always something that changes things, like... oh, there we go!" </p><p></p><p>Mook lifted her head and looked at the two of them. "W-we are n-not going north any longer," she declared. "We n-need to go s-south with the caravan." </p><p></p><p>"Huh?" Zayel almost dropped his cup. "Why in the name of the gods would we do that? We need to meet up with the others, and they are waiting for us at Falcon's Hollow – or at least, I hope so. We need to help Kronk and all. My da will be looking for me there." </p><p></p><p>"I have n-no idea," Mook said simply. "B-but you will be e-expected there b-by an Elf."</p><p></p><p>"Somewhere in the south an elf is waiting for me? How are we even supposed to find one elf in a large south?" the boy winced. </p><p></p><p>"W-where is the c-caravan going again?" Mook asked. </p><p></p><p>"Augustana. In fact, we'll turn south where this creek meets the river, to stop in the next town for some business and..."</p><p></p><p>Mook nodded, as the caravan was very slow with all the stops for their exhibition. "Augustana," she said, looking almost as if she would taste the name. "T-that's where we f-find the elf, then." And with that, she continued eating, not even considering Zayel might want to argue about her sudden decision.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lwaxy, post: 5863314, member: 53286"] Thanks to eye and joint issues, I'm slow typing at the moment. I hope the story won't run away from me - but then we have extensive notes this time around. ;) As usual, we made some minor story relevant changes to the adventure, mainly for season and that it makes no sense for creatures to "fight to the death" all the time, or to fight at all. I also wanted the pact with the worg and his pack to happen so I'm glad that for once, they didn't have other ideas there. The change in destination was the idea of Mook's player, who used one of the karma points I hand out to make it happen (after discussing it with me beforehand of course, needs to make sense with where the adventures are). ----------------------------------------------- Getting the moss fro the elder tree had been no problem, despite making the gruesome discovery of dead bodies tied in the branches. They had found the cause to be a tatzelwyrm, but some substance Edawon had thrown, reluctantly as the half-orc had thought, had caused the thing to run. Now it was midmorning. After a rather difficult path up and down a densely overgrown hill, the two snow covered travelers arrived at the next point indicated on their makeshift map. The sounds of the forest became suddenly distant as the trees part, opening into a small, almost perfectly circular glade. The nearest stands of pine, eyln, and darkwood - all typically sturdy woods - twisted away from the clearing, as if bent by some impossibly strong wind or seemingly in an attempt to flee despite their paralyzed roots. At the glade’s center squatted an ugly cottage, little more than a pile of twigs, shoots, and ivy stacked upon mud walls. From the thatched roof dangled bundles of gnarled roots, old dried beast carcasses, and knucklebone bangles, all clattering together like gruesome wind chimes. A dozen small thatched fetishes, each shaped like a tiny man, imp, or rearing serpent, stood propped in the yard, keeping guard before a rickety plank door. "Sure looks inviting," Majek mumbled. The fox, lugged in Edawon's backpack, agreed with a whimpering sound. "There hasn't anyone been here for a while," Edawon said, pointing at the rotten door. "Something must have happened to the witch." "Meh... think we can still find what we are looking for?" Majek passed by the various figures, not feeling threatened by them. "Probably. Rat's tail is valuable for years if preserved right, and this place looks as if the former inhabitant had the habit of preserving all sorts of things." "Hope you are right." With little difficulty, Majek pushed the rotten door aside. Inside, the cottage was dank, reeking, and filled with shadows. Haphazardly hung shelves lined the walls, covered in all manner of clay jugs, clouded bottles, strangely cut rocks, rotted bunches of herbs, and a museum of other crude curios and remnants of a bone grinder’s artifice. A rusted iron cauldron, with a wide mouth wide and deep enough for a small person to crawl inside dominated the hut’s single room, its ash-covered surface shaped with a relief of capering fiends and leering devils. By luck or magic, no weather seemed to have affected the inside of the place but the alchemist saw something rather disturbing. Across from the door, against the far walls, stands a high-backed chair made of wicker, the gigantic curved tusks of some monstrous beast, and thousands of human teeth. In the chair was what looks like a corpse wrapped in filthy burial linens, its form padded with pungent herbs and sprouting patches of thick white mold. "I am not sure I want to have anything to do with this place," the half-orc stated and took a step back. "There is definitely some dark magic involved, even if the corpse does not look real. Just look at the chair." "Corpse?" The halfling pushed into the room, passing his companion. "Yeah that's a fake. Probably put here to make possible visitors think someone was home. Weird enough. And I agree about the chair." Careful not to touch anything, the ranger looked around the place. After several minutes of squinting and sniffing, he finally pointed to a peg at the wall close to the door. "There. Lots of rat's tail, and it still smells like, well, rat's tail. Means it still has the essentials to be used." "Great. I guess it would have been more difficult to get that while the witch was still here." The half-orc could barely reach the peg without anything to stand on but he managed without having to use any of the benches standing around. The less they touched, the better. "Now let's go." As he was about to stow away the rat's tail, the cauldron they had not paid much attention to suddenly came alive with a loud clatter and hurled itself at Majek. With a shriek not sounding like a half-orc at all, Majek rushed out of the hut and across the weird yard, back up the hill they had come down from. He almost lost the rat's tail in the process. He scolded himself as he brushed snow out of his hair, having fallen into a bush. He had been to the golden city and he had seen worse things. Maybe it had been the presence of black magic affecting him, or maybe it was the whole location so far off from any civilization. Hest followed more slowly. "It didn't bother me. Looks like a guardian only attacking who disturbs the place." "Yeah. That's just great. Whatever. Let's get going." Majek finished dusting himself off and placing the rat's tail safely in his pouch. "I have a feeling it will be worse at this monastery. Who knows, maybe we will be dealing with ghosts or some such. You know, of we keep doing this, we really should find a cleric to join us. Maybe a priest of Iomedae. Or, at least, we should wait until our undead fighting paladin is with us again." "We haven't seen any ghosts yet," Edawon frowned. "I'm frankly more worried about wolves and other unfriendly creatures." "Yeah," the alchemist sighed. "That, too." They arrived at the ruined monastery shortly after midday. The sun was bright, and there was no new snow in sight. To Edawon, that was a good thing because when they neared the old buildings, he could check for any trails with little difficulty. Sitting squat at the foot of an imposing mountain, the ruins stood between ancient gnarled trees. Made of simple stone blocks, worn smooth with the passage of time, the stout building was falling apart. Sections of the slanted shale roof had collapsed and portions of the outer wall had crumbled. Small bare twigs striving to once be big trees and wild thorn plants brown from cold and covered heavily in snow ran rampant across the field leading up to the place, leaving only the slightest indication of a path that ended at the ruined front doors. Beyond, a messy yard yard waited in shadow. Before entering the yard, the path passed between a pair of old stone statues. While one of them was little more than rubble, the other was relatively intact. The 5-foot-tall statue looked incredibly worn but it could still be made out as a dwarf holding aloft a great stone hammer. Moss and creeper vines would likely cover most of its surface in warmer days, but as the leaves had all gone, Edawon removed a thin sheet of snow around the base to uncover an old dwarven inscription that read “All praise” and something scratched away, as if to defile the original purpose of the place. A crow cawed somewhere to warn the world of their approach. "You know," Majek mused, "how in the old stories a name made unreadable usually means something very sinister is at work?" The ranger nodded and moved on. "It usually is in the real world, too." It sounded like he had experience with this sort of thing, which did not help to ease the nervousness the half-orc was beginning to show. Tall grasses and chunks of stone debris had all but overtaken the small yard. The now dead patches of grass and the debris was covered in knee hight snow at places where the wind had made drifts, but was only ankle deep in most areas, but the ground was hard to see and very uneven. Off to one side, a wooden stable had collapsed into a mound of rotting timbers and moldy straw. The outer wall on the east side had also collapsed, leaving a ragged hole. Three doors exit into this yard, a pair of double doors to the east, a single door to the north, and a lone door leading into the squat tower in the southeast corner. A trail of hoofsteps led to the tower. Majek looked up and around at the snow covered walls.The wet snow had stuck to the surface in some places and falling off in others, making it impossible to see if there were any more inscriptions or maybe pictures. Not paying enough attention to the ground, the alchemist suddenly bumped into something and nearly lost his balance. He found himself in the northwest corner of the small yard and what he had bumped into was an old well almost completely snowed in. A frozen rope went down to equally frozen water. Majek shook his head and resolved to be more attentive. Sure, in the stories, it was often the case a foe would attack from above where no one looked, but it wouldn't help to look up to be killed by falling into a frozen well. For some reason, the thought made him chuckle. "Can we even find those mushrooms in the snow?" he wondered aloud. "Yeah, they mostly grow in buildings and usually dry up in winter. They are even better dry. But we won't check out this tower," the ranger pointed to where the hoofprints lead. "The buck went in and did not come out. That's not a good thing and gives us reason to give it a wide berth." "How do you know that's a buck? Couldn't it be a female?" Carefully, the half-orc made it to the stable and looked inside. Asides from a few bones looking to be from a donkey or pony, he could not see anything. "A female would have a wider hip," the ranger simply said as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. Majek wanted to inquire on that, but then he found the wolf prints. He pointed to them. "Maybe the wolves got him then?" "No, there are no wolf prints going into the tower. My guess is someone made a lair there. Let's check everything but," Edawon grinned. "As for the wolves, they have a bad reputation but are usually fine with leaving people alone unless they are very hungry, and there is enough prey around here." "What if they are led by a larger wolf? A dire wolf of sorts?" Majek pointed to a set of larger prints. "Well, that could be a problem," the halfling agreed. "But we are not alone here in any case. There is at least one kobold about, and the way it hopped around over here he was not happy with the weather." Edawon followed the prints to the door in the west. "Maybe an outcast of the kobolds Kronk needs help with." "Or a sentinel," the alchimist thought. Something tickled his nose and he looked up again. A light snow had started to fall. "We might want to catch it in any case, just so we won't have to deal with a whole lot of them." "Yeah, or be quick and avoid it." Edawon pushed the slightly open doors wider and peered inside. Beyond the double doors was a small dark hall. Littered with mounds of debris and a year’s worth of dead leaves and trails of several weeks of snow, it was clear that a narrow path wound inside. The room ahead had no doors anymore. The opening led into the former sanctum. Pews of darkwood were tipped over and covered in dust on either side of this ancient shrine. At the far end stood a large ceremonial anvil, but its surface was defaced and ruined. The halfling shook his head as he could see no mushrooms around. The half-orc moved north, following the faint wolf tracks in the corridor. They led to a large, damaged chamber. Gaping holes in the roof allowed faint light and snow to enter. One of the stone columns that once supported the ceiling was toppled, its broken pieces littering the floor. A thick patch of black, dried mushrooms was hiding in a nearby corner, giving the room an earthy scent that was barely noticeable above the stench of wet fur. "I think I found what we need... but the wolves, too, I reckon," Majek called back. Edawon joined him just when a large, grey, wolf-like beast jumped up from behind the ruined column, baring its teeth and growling like mad. "That's not a dire wolf, that's a worg," the ranger said drily. "Good day to you, master worg. We have no intention to fight you or the pack you have acquired. We only need some of the mushrooms over there." "They are mine," the worg replied in a growling voice which was hard to understand. Majek was shocked about it at first, but then remembered worgs had magic in them and were no ordinary animals. "Of course, but wolves and worgs have little need for them now, do they? Maybe we can pay you though? Hunt for you so you can rest tonight?" "Do I look like I can't hunt myself? We enjoy the hunt, we live for the hunt. Maybe you would make good prey?" The eyes of the worg seemed to glow. "We certainly don't make good prey," Majek said casually and showed his hammer and short sword. "We've dealt with an undead old dragon not too long ago, you are really not comparable to that." Nothing of it was a lie, as he didn't know if the beast could sense lies, but of course it was a bit of bending the truth. "So you did?" The worg seemed to chuckle. "In that case, you may be able to be of use after all. Let's make a deal, then. Here's the problem..." When they left with the mushrooms about an hour later, they had made an unbreakable pact with the help of what looked like an item looted from the hut of the long gone witch. They had made it for their whole group, too – for their pack to aid the worg's pack – and they fully intended to honor it after having heard the details. Both hoped the others would see it the same way. The caravan in the south was stopping at a frozen creek about the same time. A few rocks, some low hills and a few evergreen trees stopped the cold winds coming from the north, and the midday meal was rather cheerful. Tiva and Zayel had been exchanging stories, with Mook listening and making a comment here and there. Others were grouped around a larger fire, but the desire of the young folk to talk alone for a bit was respected. By now, Tiva knew of Mook's stuttering problem and oracle curses and even that Zayel was not completely of elven blood and knew, in fact, little of his pointed eared fellows, having grown up among humans for the most part. Tiva, so they had learned, hungered for knowledge other than how to summon things and a few spells here and there other magic users would take for granted anyway. That was the other reason why she had run. "You know," she was just explaining, "my helper – and older student at the guild – always said you do not need to be worried if life gives you lemons, as the saying goes. It is when you don't get any lemons you need to find a way to get them yourself." "Lemons were very rare where I grew up," Zayel said without being specific. He had decided on claiming he was from "the north" somewhere but would nheed to talk to his da first to see what he thought about it. "So I definitely agree that getting thekm is not a bad thing. Mook would probably... Mook?" Only now he noticed that the oracle had been staring into the fire for a few minutes with a strange expression he knew all too well. "Oh in the name of all the good gods, she has a vision." It didn't happen like that all too often, but he had witnessed it a few times, and it always meant some sort of trouble or change of plans or bad news. "I take it that's not good thing!" Tiva threw the bare bones of the bird wing she had been eating into the flames and stared at the gnome. "Does it happen a lot?" "Nah, but it's always something that changes things, like... oh, there we go!" Mook lifted her head and looked at the two of them. "W-we are n-not going north any longer," she declared. "We n-need to go s-south with the caravan." "Huh?" Zayel almost dropped his cup. "Why in the name of the gods would we do that? We need to meet up with the others, and they are waiting for us at Falcon's Hollow – or at least, I hope so. We need to help Kronk and all. My da will be looking for me there." "I have n-no idea," Mook said simply. "B-but you will be e-expected there b-by an Elf." "Somewhere in the south an elf is waiting for me? How are we even supposed to find one elf in a large south?" the boy winced. "W-where is the c-caravan going again?" Mook asked. "Augustana. In fact, we'll turn south where this creek meets the river, to stop in the next town for some business and..." Mook nodded, as the caravan was very slow with all the stops for their exhibition. "Augustana," she said, looking almost as if she would taste the name. "T-that's where we f-find the elf, then." And with that, she continued eating, not even considering Zayel might want to argue about her sudden decision. [/QUOTE]
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