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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 7142967" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Chapter 46</p><p></p><p>“You sure this is a good idea?” Kosk asked Quellan as they prepared to set off.</p><p></p><p>The small company had gathered in the common room of the Gray Oak Inn. Olag Beetlebrim was standing behind the bar, watching as they checked their gear. Outside the front windows the village remained dark in the predawn gloom. Northpine remained asleep, even the hard-working farmers and artisans of the small community still abed at that early hour.</p><p></p><p>Besides the innkeeper, only a few of the locals had woken to see them off. Erron Laddrick was there, along with Comoran. Also present was Colum, the Anthernorn’s retainer. He had added a wool cloak against the morning chill, but it didn’t conceal the chain shirt he wore or the sword and dagger that hung from his hip. The man-at-arms was not very talkative, and merely checked his gear as he waited for them to leave.</p><p></p><p>Quellan knew that his friend wasn’t talking about the locals. He looked over at Xeeta, who was standing in the corner near the side door. She wore a cloak with the cowl pulled forward to conceal her features. The cleric understood; she was saving her magic against possible need and thus had not used her <em>disguise self</em> spell to conceal her true features. Comoran shot her a few curious looks, but he did not approach her.</p><p></p><p>“She hasn’t done anything that would cause us to doubt her story,” Quellan said.</p><p></p><p>“I’m sure you noticed that she didn’t tell us all that much, in the way of details,” Kosk noted. “Just that she grew up in the Isles, and had to leave when her sponsor or patron or whatever they call it died.”</p><p></p><p>“I have heard that a person has a right to their past,” Quellan said. “That they should be judged on who they are, not what they are.”</p><p></p><p>“You read that in one of your books?”</p><p></p><p>“Actually, I got it from a friend, one who is wiser than he lets on.”</p><p></p><p>Kosk muttered something under his breath.</p><p></p><p>“You have good instincts for knowing who to punch,” Quellan said. “I have good instincts for knowing who to trust.”</p><p></p><p>Kosk snorted, but didn’t offer any further argument. They’d spoken at length the night before, and not just about the decision to allow the tiefling woman to join them. Quellan knew that once a decision had been made, it was not in his friend’s manner to second-guess it; he just liked to complain.</p><p></p><p>Comoran came forward and lifted the icon of Sorevas that he wore. “I will call upon the god’s blessing to bring you success and keep you safe,” he said. “Normally we wait for the rising of the sun for the morning invocation…”</p><p></p><p>“Why don’t you wait, then,” Kosk said. “The rest of us are going to get moving.”</p><p></p><p>The priest stared after them as they filed out through the side door and made their way out of the village. This time their route would take them north and west, into a region of light forest and scattered hills. According to Colum they would reach the old mill after about two hours of walking, with the abandoned estate roughly another hour past that.</p><p></p><p>The track they were following looked like it had accommodated carts at one point, but now it was overgrown and disused. Laddrick had told them that sometimes Northpiners used to came out this way to cut wood or gather herbs, but that recently few went far from the security of the village, especially with the uncertainty of events surrounding the disappearance of the village boy and the death of the local hunter.</p><p></p><p>They certainly didn’t encounter anyone that morning. The sun was slow to rise, while a thin fog hung over the surrounding hills, obscuring visibility past half a mile or so. Kosk set his usual brisk pace. Colum carried a portable writing kit in a satchel he wore under his cloak, and he frequently took out a quill to make notations on the sheaf of maps he carried. But their new companion had no difficulty keeping up, and his eyes were in constant motion as they traveled, taking in every detail of the surrounding landscape.</p><p></p><p>They had been walking for maybe half an hour when they came to a copse of trees that extended along the length of the road. A row of stumps indicated that this was one of the spots where the villagers harvested wood. A small hand-cart had been left overturned by the edge of the path, the dense growth surrounding it suggesting it had been there for quite some time.</p><p></p><p>Kosk barely slowed, but Xeeta called out, “A moment. Colum, if we’re going to be traveling together it is only fair that I show you something about me.”</p><p></p><p>The man-at-arms turned toward her, but before she could continue Bredan said, “You should know that it’s not a problem for us.”</p><p></p><p>Colum didn’t say anything, and after a moment Xeeta reached up and drew back her cowl. The weak light of the morning was more than sufficient to reveal the bright coloration of her skin and the spirals of horn that extended from her temples.</p><p></p><p>The man-at-arms betrayed no panic or alarm; he just said, “Do the Anthernorns know, or the Council?”</p><p></p><p>“It’s not their concern,” Bredan said. He looked like he might say more, but Glori touched him lightly on the arm and he subsided.</p><p></p><p>Colum looked around at each of them in turn. Finally, he shrugged. “Don’t see how it affects the job I’ve been ordered to do,” he said.</p><p></p><p>“If that’s settled, then let’s keep moving,” Kosk said. “I want to get there and back before nightfall.”</p><p></p><p>They pressed on. The road grew more overgrown. They had no difficulty following it, but they had to switch to single file as the bushes and stalks of prickleburr pressed in from either side. The route meandered around low hills that were hardly obstacles at all compared to the rough landscape they had navigated over the last few days. The fog burned away but the sun remained hidden behind low clouds, leaving the day dim and gloomy.</p><p></p><p>They encountered the stream shortly before they came to the mill. The structure was sagging and decrepit, the large wooden wheel that had once powered the internal machinery lying broken on its side in the weeds. The spillway was overgrown with reeds and other growth that had opened gaping holes in the wooden framework.</p><p></p><p>The mill itself was in little better shape. The foundation was stone and had held up reasonably well, but the wooden boards of the upper level were warped and rotten. There were holes where iron fittings had been scavenged, and the main door was entirely gone, leaving a dark hole at the top of a short flight of stone steps that led into the interior. Other than the gurgle of the adjacent stream, the place was utterly silent.</p><p></p><p>Colum took out his writing kit and began sorting through his parchments. Kosk looked over at him and growled, “We’re not here to make maps.”</p><p></p><p>Without looking up, the man-at-arms said, “The child might have gone inside, fallen through the floor or gotten pinned under a beam.” He found the sheet he was looking for and took out a quill and a pot of ink that fit into a slot on the top of the wooden kit.</p><p></p><p>Kosk looked sour, but Quellan said, “Come on, let’s take a quick look.” He opened his hand and summoned forth <em>light</em> that shone from the palm of his glove.</p><p></p><p>The others started to follow them toward the entry, but Kosk held up a hand. “You lot stay here and keep an eye out,” he said. “This place isn’t that big, and it’ll only take us a moment to check it out.” Without waiting for a reply he followed Quellan inside.</p><p></p><p>“Your companion is not shy about sharing what he thinks,” Xeeta said. She went over to a wooden fencepost that no longer had a fence to go with it and leaned against it before taking out her waterskin.</p><p></p><p>“Yeah, he’s not shy,” Glori said. “And his people skills could use some… refinement. But he’s good in a fight.”</p><p></p><p>“When he’s not charging in alone to try to get himself killed,” Bredan said.</p><p></p><p>“You’ve been together for a while, then?” Xeeta asked.</p><p></p><p>“Not that long,” Bredan said. He walked over and found another orphaned post close to her. This one sagged under his weight and he quickly stepped clear before it would have dropped him on his backside. “We only joined up to find…”</p><p></p><p>“Wait, where’s Colum?” Glori interrupted.</p><p></p><p>“He walked over there, around the edge of the building,” Xeeta said. “I believe he was taking notations on the condition of the structure.”</p><p></p><p>Glori nodded, but after a moment said, “He should know better than to wander off alone.”</p><p></p><p>“I’ll go check on him,” Bredan said. But he’d only taken a few steps when they heard a loud, alien sound, a sharp chittering that they couldn’t quite classify. But they had no difficulty identifying the source of the scream that followed.</p><p></p><p>Bredan and Glori sprinted around the corner of the mill. They saw Colum at once, along with the source of the strange sound.</p><p></p><p>The man-at-arms was being held in the grasp of a praying mantis the size of a wagon. The thing had him pinned in its hooked arms, clutching him against its body as he struggled weakly to break free. Seeing Bredan and Glori, it spun around and trotted off with its prize.</p><p></p><p>The two couldn’t immediately follow, as a second creature emerged from the tall growth along the stream and charged at them.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 7142967, member: 143"] Chapter 46 “You sure this is a good idea?” Kosk asked Quellan as they prepared to set off. The small company had gathered in the common room of the Gray Oak Inn. Olag Beetlebrim was standing behind the bar, watching as they checked their gear. Outside the front windows the village remained dark in the predawn gloom. Northpine remained asleep, even the hard-working farmers and artisans of the small community still abed at that early hour. Besides the innkeeper, only a few of the locals had woken to see them off. Erron Laddrick was there, along with Comoran. Also present was Colum, the Anthernorn’s retainer. He had added a wool cloak against the morning chill, but it didn’t conceal the chain shirt he wore or the sword and dagger that hung from his hip. The man-at-arms was not very talkative, and merely checked his gear as he waited for them to leave. Quellan knew that his friend wasn’t talking about the locals. He looked over at Xeeta, who was standing in the corner near the side door. She wore a cloak with the cowl pulled forward to conceal her features. The cleric understood; she was saving her magic against possible need and thus had not used her [i]disguise self[/i] spell to conceal her true features. Comoran shot her a few curious looks, but he did not approach her. “She hasn’t done anything that would cause us to doubt her story,” Quellan said. “I’m sure you noticed that she didn’t tell us all that much, in the way of details,” Kosk noted. “Just that she grew up in the Isles, and had to leave when her sponsor or patron or whatever they call it died.” “I have heard that a person has a right to their past,” Quellan said. “That they should be judged on who they are, not what they are.” “You read that in one of your books?” “Actually, I got it from a friend, one who is wiser than he lets on.” Kosk muttered something under his breath. “You have good instincts for knowing who to punch,” Quellan said. “I have good instincts for knowing who to trust.” Kosk snorted, but didn’t offer any further argument. They’d spoken at length the night before, and not just about the decision to allow the tiefling woman to join them. Quellan knew that once a decision had been made, it was not in his friend’s manner to second-guess it; he just liked to complain. Comoran came forward and lifted the icon of Sorevas that he wore. “I will call upon the god’s blessing to bring you success and keep you safe,” he said. “Normally we wait for the rising of the sun for the morning invocation…” “Why don’t you wait, then,” Kosk said. “The rest of us are going to get moving.” The priest stared after them as they filed out through the side door and made their way out of the village. This time their route would take them north and west, into a region of light forest and scattered hills. According to Colum they would reach the old mill after about two hours of walking, with the abandoned estate roughly another hour past that. The track they were following looked like it had accommodated carts at one point, but now it was overgrown and disused. Laddrick had told them that sometimes Northpiners used to came out this way to cut wood or gather herbs, but that recently few went far from the security of the village, especially with the uncertainty of events surrounding the disappearance of the village boy and the death of the local hunter. They certainly didn’t encounter anyone that morning. The sun was slow to rise, while a thin fog hung over the surrounding hills, obscuring visibility past half a mile or so. Kosk set his usual brisk pace. Colum carried a portable writing kit in a satchel he wore under his cloak, and he frequently took out a quill to make notations on the sheaf of maps he carried. But their new companion had no difficulty keeping up, and his eyes were in constant motion as they traveled, taking in every detail of the surrounding landscape. They had been walking for maybe half an hour when they came to a copse of trees that extended along the length of the road. A row of stumps indicated that this was one of the spots where the villagers harvested wood. A small hand-cart had been left overturned by the edge of the path, the dense growth surrounding it suggesting it had been there for quite some time. Kosk barely slowed, but Xeeta called out, “A moment. Colum, if we’re going to be traveling together it is only fair that I show you something about me.” The man-at-arms turned toward her, but before she could continue Bredan said, “You should know that it’s not a problem for us.” Colum didn’t say anything, and after a moment Xeeta reached up and drew back her cowl. The weak light of the morning was more than sufficient to reveal the bright coloration of her skin and the spirals of horn that extended from her temples. The man-at-arms betrayed no panic or alarm; he just said, “Do the Anthernorns know, or the Council?” “It’s not their concern,” Bredan said. He looked like he might say more, but Glori touched him lightly on the arm and he subsided. Colum looked around at each of them in turn. Finally, he shrugged. “Don’t see how it affects the job I’ve been ordered to do,” he said. “If that’s settled, then let’s keep moving,” Kosk said. “I want to get there and back before nightfall.” They pressed on. The road grew more overgrown. They had no difficulty following it, but they had to switch to single file as the bushes and stalks of prickleburr pressed in from either side. The route meandered around low hills that were hardly obstacles at all compared to the rough landscape they had navigated over the last few days. The fog burned away but the sun remained hidden behind low clouds, leaving the day dim and gloomy. They encountered the stream shortly before they came to the mill. The structure was sagging and decrepit, the large wooden wheel that had once powered the internal machinery lying broken on its side in the weeds. The spillway was overgrown with reeds and other growth that had opened gaping holes in the wooden framework. The mill itself was in little better shape. The foundation was stone and had held up reasonably well, but the wooden boards of the upper level were warped and rotten. There were holes where iron fittings had been scavenged, and the main door was entirely gone, leaving a dark hole at the top of a short flight of stone steps that led into the interior. Other than the gurgle of the adjacent stream, the place was utterly silent. Colum took out his writing kit and began sorting through his parchments. Kosk looked over at him and growled, “We’re not here to make maps.” Without looking up, the man-at-arms said, “The child might have gone inside, fallen through the floor or gotten pinned under a beam.” He found the sheet he was looking for and took out a quill and a pot of ink that fit into a slot on the top of the wooden kit. Kosk looked sour, but Quellan said, “Come on, let’s take a quick look.” He opened his hand and summoned forth [i]light[/i] that shone from the palm of his glove. The others started to follow them toward the entry, but Kosk held up a hand. “You lot stay here and keep an eye out,” he said. “This place isn’t that big, and it’ll only take us a moment to check it out.” Without waiting for a reply he followed Quellan inside. “Your companion is not shy about sharing what he thinks,” Xeeta said. She went over to a wooden fencepost that no longer had a fence to go with it and leaned against it before taking out her waterskin. “Yeah, he’s not shy,” Glori said. “And his people skills could use some… refinement. But he’s good in a fight.” “When he’s not charging in alone to try to get himself killed,” Bredan said. “You’ve been together for a while, then?” Xeeta asked. “Not that long,” Bredan said. He walked over and found another orphaned post close to her. This one sagged under his weight and he quickly stepped clear before it would have dropped him on his backside. “We only joined up to find…” “Wait, where’s Colum?” Glori interrupted. “He walked over there, around the edge of the building,” Xeeta said. “I believe he was taking notations on the condition of the structure.” Glori nodded, but after a moment said, “He should know better than to wander off alone.” “I’ll go check on him,” Bredan said. But he’d only taken a few steps when they heard a loud, alien sound, a sharp chittering that they couldn’t quite classify. But they had no difficulty identifying the source of the scream that followed. Bredan and Glori sprinted around the corner of the mill. They saw Colum at once, along with the source of the strange sound. The man-at-arms was being held in the grasp of a praying mantis the size of a wagon. The thing had him pinned in its hooked arms, clutching him against its body as he struggled weakly to break free. Seeing Bredan and Glori, it spun around and trotted off with its prize. The two couldn’t immediately follow, as a second creature emerged from the tall growth along the stream and charged at them. [/QUOTE]
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