Maissen: Shades of Grey [UPDATE 12/12, post 199]
Beale Knight
First Post
alsih2o said:I fill them in on the choices your group made regularly
Is this the group that spent most of a day on the five foot drop in the grasslands?
Beale Knight
First Post
02-01 Sayonara Civilization
02-01
“Well we probably shouldn’t tell them about all the side arraignments we’ve made,” Bessie said
Ren shook his head. “No, that would for sure be a bad idea.”
“We can be honest enough and just say we’re going north,” Madge said.
Killian smiled. “To the dwarves.”
“That’s good,” Ren said. “It gives us a goal and for me I’d like to see about them anyway.”
The others agreed and then there was nothing to do but wait. Under the weight of anticipation, it felt like hours dragging by as the four sat in the small room. His belly full, and relaxed in a comfortable chair, Ren began to doze off.
Then at last the door on the far wall opened. No one was there to direct the group in, but almost as one they rose and crossed the threshold into the next room. Ren noticed right away that there were three other doors into the room.
As he looked it over, he was surprised to notice this room wasn’t much bigger than the one they’d just left. But it was crowded with people. The same nine people that had been sitting at the council table during the feast. Ren, underclass hunter and son of a groom from distant Vaunth-on-the-Lake, was standing before the entire ruling Council of Maissen.
He recognized Kerros the Black and Kord the Pious. The others he didn’t know, but there were soon introductions. A man in green stepped forward from the group to address the four Heroes.
“Welcome Heroes from Vaunth-on-the-Lake,” he said. “I am Thraud the Hunter, chair of the Council of Maissen.” He swept his hand across the room introducing the others one by one: Ofieg the Short, priest of the two sisters; Hiphez the Willing, a cleric of Balea, Bowlaf Thill the paladin; Kord the Pius, the pantheist priest; Lady Miriam the Still; Kerros the Black; Caunlog the Ranger; and the lady paladin Berjolt.
When the list of names was complete, eighteen eyes fell on the four companions. “You understand the conditions of the quest you have agreed to?” asked Thraud.
The four nodded. “We have ninety days to explore out in the wild and bring worthy treasures back to Maissen,” Ren said.
Thraud nodded. “Ninety days. No more.” He looked them over once again. “Now, we would know your plans for this quest.”
Madge spoke up this time. “We planned to head north and try to make contact with the dwarves.”
At that Kerros and one of the others, Ren had already forgotten his name, stepped back and huddled together, whispering.
Once again Thraud nodded. “A fine goal. Is there anything more that you need or that you would care to say?”
The four Heroes looked at each other, each clearly wracking their mind for something they wanted that they didn’t have. Ren went over his personal inventory and was satisfied. He considered asking for some magic arrows or a ring or something, but didn’t expect the council chair meant that, and he didn’t want to look a fool. But he did remember something that he suddenly wanted to make sure the rulers of Maissen knew about.
“I’d like to say that we appreciate the faith Popa Thorson and our townsfolk have put in us,” he said. “Petris especially too.”
Madge and Bessie gave him an odd look at this, but Thraud smiled. “Ah yes,” he said. “I know Petris. He is a good man.”
Ren smiled and nodded. “True. You know he said he was planning on making some better quality housing for the poor of Vaunth-on-the-Lake? After the wall around town is done, he said that was going to be his next project.”
“I’m sure he will deliver on his promise,” Thraud said. He looked at the others. “Was there anything more?”
Ren smiled and in his mind he chuckled. Petris had hemmed and hawed and done everything he could to put off any solid timetable for the housing Ren had pushed him about. Now the ruling council knew about it, and that made it all the more likely it would actually get done.
“I think that we’re as ready as we will be,” Madge said.
Thraud put his hands together. “Very well then. Tomorrow there will be a late morning blessing ceremony. You will then receive your badges, indicating to any Maissener who you are and why you are beyond the borders. After that you will be escorted to Tasformel, the last temple to the west, where you will spend the night. The next morning is the first day of your ninety.”
He paused long enough to let that sink in and dismissed them, saying their escort awaited them in the waiting room. With that the council member began to filter out through a different door. The four Heroes from Vaunth-on-the-Lake turned to leave but were stopped by Kerros.
“A word if you please,” he said. With him was the councilman he’d been whispering with moments earlier. “As you are planning on going to the dwarves, there’s something we’d like to see you about tomorrow morning. Please expect us.”
Ren and the others nodded, were nodded back at, and then the Heroes and Councilmen went separate ways.
“That was odd,” Bessie said. “I wonder what we stirred in them?”
“I guess we’re for sure going to find out,” Ren said.
Killian grunted. “Aye. And probably too early in the morning at that.”
=======================================================
Whatever Ren had been dreaming about, it was replaced by a den of wolves howling around him. He shifted in his sleep and soon began to wake. As the hunter blinked the sleep from his eyes he first noticed it was still dark. Then he realized he was still hearing the wolves.
That didn’t make any sense. He yawned and shook his head, trying to clear the fog of sleep out. Finally he realized the sound he was hearing was some sort of chanting or singing coming from outside.
Ren looked out the window in his quarters, but couldn’t see anything but the tree just outside. He walked into the common chamber shared with the others. Madge and Bessie were already there, the doors to their quarters open. They were gazing out the chamber window into the courtyard.
“What is this?” Ren asked, exasperated.
Madge pointed out the window. Gathered in the courtyard was a small host of hair shirted chanters, much like the ones the group had seen just outside Vaunth-on-the-Lake. “Those are our Criers,” she explained. “They have a special connection to all the questers.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t remember making a special connection with anyone around these parts.”
“You don’t have to,” Bessie said. “Each group has one and those are ours. According to the lore, they’ll wail for our souls until we return.”
“Or die,” Madge added.
Ren brought a hand to his face. “Very nice. Can they do it quieter? I don’t mind someone wailing for my soul, but I’d a lot sure rather have the sleep.”
=======================================================
Morning came, as Killian had predicted, much too early. Ren was awaked by a loud knocking at the common chamber’s door, followed almost at once with it being pushed roughly open. He came out from his quarters in time to see a group of brown garbed men tumbling in. They moved with quiet grace, but it seemed like an invasion. Only that he could see Kerros and the other councilman from last night at the doorway, and that an attack on their chambers in the heart of Maissen castle was as likely as a green sky, kept Ren from going back for his bow.
When the hoard of guards stopped tumbling around and assumed positions throughout the room, Kerros and the other man stepped in. Kerros carried a large, ornate case with the care a father carries his newborn son. The other reached into his coat and pulled a set of matching glass lenses out. He put those to his eyes, and then gazed over the room. After a few moments he put them away and nodded.
Kerros put the case on the chamber’s central table, and the four heroes gathered around as he slowly opened it.
Killian gasped and stared, open mouthed, at what was inside. Bessie and Madge’s eyes grew large as they looked into the case. Ren whistled, impressed.
“Dwarven made” Kerros said. He reached in a pulled out a great sword, covered with intricate runes. “Forged by the hill dwarves of Ghost Dragon Mountain.”
“Impressive,” Killian said. “That is a kingly sword.”
Ren suddenly noticed an odd thing about it. He’d never seen a dwarf, never knew them to be real until a few days ago, but everything the tales said indicated they were short. “Forged by them for who?” he asked. “Aren’t they supposed to be too small to use a full size sword like that?”
“Forged for us,” Kerros said, “a long time ago. And now it is time for it to be returned from whence it came.” He placed the sword back in its case. “Will you agree to take it?”
Everyone nodded. “Yes,” Madge said, just to remove any doubt.
Kerros closed the case. “Very good. This will be among your gear when you depart this afternoon. Now - one more thing. You've heard the tales of halflings?"
Everyone nodded. "Good," Kerros said, "because they are true."
"What?" Ren said.
"Yes," Kerros said. "They are now extinct, killed by Idien. I bring them up because over the course of history halflings have become synonymous with gnomes."
Ren was running a hand through his hair trying to take this all in. The little people were real? What else that was myth would turn out to be true? Now gnomes? "I'm guessing you're about to tell us they're real too?"
"Indeed," Kerros said. "Few still live, but they are 'real'. We believe some of them live between Maissen and Ghost Dragon Mountain. Should you meet any, I implore you to invite them to come live in our nation."
"Why, may I ask," Madge asked.
"Their population is so small to be under threat," Kerros said. "And I will admit to you that they know rich secrets, secrets that would benefit Maissen."
Silence fell over the room. Ren was still reeling from the revelations. What the others might be thinking he was too mentally busy to consider.
"This I ask. Please keep it in mind," Kerros said.
He then nodded at one of the brown garbed guards, who made a hand gesture that sent half the guards bounding out of the room. The two councilmen followed, and then the other half of the guards left.
Bessie broke the silence that lingered behind the guards. “Well I guess that means we'll really be going all the way to the dwarves.”
“Aye,” Killian said as he stroked his beardless chin. “That it does.”
====================================================
The blessing ceremony in Maissen was a larger version of the one in Vaunth-on-the-Lake, with one crucial difference. Each of the three groups had a shelter to protect them from the sun. Apart from that, there were again more speeches than anyone could be reasonably be expected to pay attention through and there were again more blessings than anyone could reasonably be expected to keep track of. Before the ceremony was halfway complete, every Hero from the three towns was drenched in blessed water and oils, sitting in a cloud of blessed perfumes and incenses, and weighed down with blessed beads, feathers, miniature icons, and anything else remotely sacred to one of the multitude of gods that made up the Maissen pantheon. Ren was a pantheist himself, having never seen wisdom in putting too much devotion into any one god, but this was far too much for even him.
He and the other Heroes silently endured it all and at last they were presented with their official badges. Colorful stones set in a pendant with a soft ribbon, these were their permission to be out beyond the borders of Maissen. Ren smiled at the thought of showing this off to Lela and how her father would react to it. Then he remembered that receiving these badges had been a death sentence for scores of people. That sobered his thoughts. It could be him. He had to remember that. He had to be careful. There was too much to return to.
When at last the ceremony came to a conclusion the Heroes were led to their gear. Ren saw that the group from Kern had no animals or cart at all, while the group from Keros had an expensive mule. Escorts kept the groups separate as they all were paraded through the streets of Maissen and out into the countryside. Crowds of well wishers lined the streets, throwing even more flowers at the Heroes feet as they passed by. This blessing meant more to Ren than all the ones the various priests had delivered.
That afternoon the procession reached Tasformel. The westernmost temple was small, little more than a large main chapel and two small rooms, one the head priest’s home and one for storage. The Heroes were expected to make do.
“And here’s where we begin the rough of the wild,” Killian said.
All three of the other laughed. “We got a roof and walls,” Ren said. “And we’re not sleeping on dirt,” Madge added. “And we can be blessed again!” Bessie said, but in a low voice; the sarcasm in her voice was all too obvious.
The temple did indeed provide another set of blessing, but they also provided dinner for the Heroes and their escorts. As the groups ate, the escorts explained that they would travel with them the next day as far as the border fort, only a few hours away. Then they were turning around for home. The Heroes would be on their own.
======================================================
“This is silly,” Bessie said, as she looked over the chapel. Dinner was long over and the three groups of Heroes had retreated to different corners of the chapel; the escorts were already sleeping. “We’re acting like we’re poison to each other.”
Madge was checking her pack bindings. “No one wants to tip their hand to the others. Remember there’s more prestige for the group with the greatest success.”
“I think one of them just thinks it’s already the winners,” Ren said. He was looking at the red garbed group from Balos. They sat in a circle, going over something and occasionally looking over their shoulders. Sometimes they pointed at the other groups and chuckled, sometimes they looked ready to knife anyone who came too close.
“Them I already don’t take a liking to,” Killian said.
“That’s two of us,” Ren said. Madge nodded her agreement.
“Well I’m going to the other ones then,” Bessie said. “Kern treated us well, we can at least introduce ourselves.”
Killian grunted. Madge shrugged but didn’t move.
“I’ll come along,” Ren said.
They walked over to the group from Kern, which looked as much like a cleaned up team of rag tag Heroes as themselves. That made them already more likable that the redbreasts. The Kern group looked up, plainly surprised, as Bessie introduced herself and Ren.
“My name’s Morten,” the apparent leader said. He wore leathers like Ren and Bessie, but had a nasty looking sword. “This is Cane, Janos, and Anteros.” They all nodded in turn, and there was an awkward moment of silence that Morten finally broke. “Soooooooo, can we ask what ya’lls plans are?”
“We were thinking of heading northwest,” Bessie said. “There’s supposed to be an interesting valley up that way.”
Morten nodded. “Not us. We’re headed due west. Kill as many Chakta as possible. That’s where the money and fame come from.” He was speaking faster now, letting his excitement show. Apparently the two had established enough trust for some basic honesty.
Ren crouched down. “What do you think of the redbreasts over there?” he asked in a low voice.
“I’m trying not to.”
“We were thinking of trying to get them to head south, let them think we’re going after something great down that way.” Ren said. Bessie gave him a look. It was the first time she’d heard about it, but that was simply because it only just then had occurred to Ren.
Morten just laughed. “Head south? That takes a special kind of stupid.”
From there Bessie steered the conversation to their night in Kern. The others were happy to talk about their home town, and the time passed quickly. Walking back to Madge and Killian, who despite his earlier complaints was already asleep, Bessie whispered, “What was that about a trick?”
“It just came to me,” Ren said. “If we could trick the redbreasts into going south to get whatever they thought we were after, then they might get eaten by Idien. Didn’t work, but I figured it was worth takin’ the shot.”
Bessie rolled her eyes and didn’t say anything.
=========================================================
“You can stay for three days,” the fort commander said. “After that, you work like the rest of us. Got it?”
The three groups of Heroes nodded. They had just reached the last border fort a few minutes earlier and been introduced to its hard as nails commander.
“Good,” he said. “Now feel free to drop your gear someplace, find a bunk, get some grub, or what have you. If you need something find a trooper and ask.” He turned and walked over to the escorts. They all traded some scrolls and signed them before giving them back. Then the woman that had led the Heroes from Vaunth-on-the-Lake came up to them one last time.
“You are now on your own,” she said. “Do Maissen proud.” With that she turned and joined the escort for the redbreasts, who had apparently felt no need to say good bye to his group. When the escort for the Kern Heroes joined them, the trio of escorts left the fort and headed east to Maissen.
And then there were three groups of Heroes standing at the far end of civilization, each waiting for another to make the first move.
02-01
“Well we probably shouldn’t tell them about all the side arraignments we’ve made,” Bessie said
Ren shook his head. “No, that would for sure be a bad idea.”
“We can be honest enough and just say we’re going north,” Madge said.
Killian smiled. “To the dwarves.”
“That’s good,” Ren said. “It gives us a goal and for me I’d like to see about them anyway.”
The others agreed and then there was nothing to do but wait. Under the weight of anticipation, it felt like hours dragging by as the four sat in the small room. His belly full, and relaxed in a comfortable chair, Ren began to doze off.
Then at last the door on the far wall opened. No one was there to direct the group in, but almost as one they rose and crossed the threshold into the next room. Ren noticed right away that there were three other doors into the room.
As he looked it over, he was surprised to notice this room wasn’t much bigger than the one they’d just left. But it was crowded with people. The same nine people that had been sitting at the council table during the feast. Ren, underclass hunter and son of a groom from distant Vaunth-on-the-Lake, was standing before the entire ruling Council of Maissen.
He recognized Kerros the Black and Kord the Pious. The others he didn’t know, but there were soon introductions. A man in green stepped forward from the group to address the four Heroes.
“Welcome Heroes from Vaunth-on-the-Lake,” he said. “I am Thraud the Hunter, chair of the Council of Maissen.” He swept his hand across the room introducing the others one by one: Ofieg the Short, priest of the two sisters; Hiphez the Willing, a cleric of Balea, Bowlaf Thill the paladin; Kord the Pius, the pantheist priest; Lady Miriam the Still; Kerros the Black; Caunlog the Ranger; and the lady paladin Berjolt.
When the list of names was complete, eighteen eyes fell on the four companions. “You understand the conditions of the quest you have agreed to?” asked Thraud.
The four nodded. “We have ninety days to explore out in the wild and bring worthy treasures back to Maissen,” Ren said.
Thraud nodded. “Ninety days. No more.” He looked them over once again. “Now, we would know your plans for this quest.”
Madge spoke up this time. “We planned to head north and try to make contact with the dwarves.”
At that Kerros and one of the others, Ren had already forgotten his name, stepped back and huddled together, whispering.
Once again Thraud nodded. “A fine goal. Is there anything more that you need or that you would care to say?”
The four Heroes looked at each other, each clearly wracking their mind for something they wanted that they didn’t have. Ren went over his personal inventory and was satisfied. He considered asking for some magic arrows or a ring or something, but didn’t expect the council chair meant that, and he didn’t want to look a fool. But he did remember something that he suddenly wanted to make sure the rulers of Maissen knew about.
“I’d like to say that we appreciate the faith Popa Thorson and our townsfolk have put in us,” he said. “Petris especially too.”
Madge and Bessie gave him an odd look at this, but Thraud smiled. “Ah yes,” he said. “I know Petris. He is a good man.”
Ren smiled and nodded. “True. You know he said he was planning on making some better quality housing for the poor of Vaunth-on-the-Lake? After the wall around town is done, he said that was going to be his next project.”
“I’m sure he will deliver on his promise,” Thraud said. He looked at the others. “Was there anything more?”
Ren smiled and in his mind he chuckled. Petris had hemmed and hawed and done everything he could to put off any solid timetable for the housing Ren had pushed him about. Now the ruling council knew about it, and that made it all the more likely it would actually get done.
“I think that we’re as ready as we will be,” Madge said.
Thraud put his hands together. “Very well then. Tomorrow there will be a late morning blessing ceremony. You will then receive your badges, indicating to any Maissener who you are and why you are beyond the borders. After that you will be escorted to Tasformel, the last temple to the west, where you will spend the night. The next morning is the first day of your ninety.”
He paused long enough to let that sink in and dismissed them, saying their escort awaited them in the waiting room. With that the council member began to filter out through a different door. The four Heroes from Vaunth-on-the-Lake turned to leave but were stopped by Kerros.
“A word if you please,” he said. With him was the councilman he’d been whispering with moments earlier. “As you are planning on going to the dwarves, there’s something we’d like to see you about tomorrow morning. Please expect us.”
Ren and the others nodded, were nodded back at, and then the Heroes and Councilmen went separate ways.
“That was odd,” Bessie said. “I wonder what we stirred in them?”
“I guess we’re for sure going to find out,” Ren said.
Killian grunted. “Aye. And probably too early in the morning at that.”
=======================================================
Whatever Ren had been dreaming about, it was replaced by a den of wolves howling around him. He shifted in his sleep and soon began to wake. As the hunter blinked the sleep from his eyes he first noticed it was still dark. Then he realized he was still hearing the wolves.
That didn’t make any sense. He yawned and shook his head, trying to clear the fog of sleep out. Finally he realized the sound he was hearing was some sort of chanting or singing coming from outside.
Ren looked out the window in his quarters, but couldn’t see anything but the tree just outside. He walked into the common chamber shared with the others. Madge and Bessie were already there, the doors to their quarters open. They were gazing out the chamber window into the courtyard.
“What is this?” Ren asked, exasperated.
Madge pointed out the window. Gathered in the courtyard was a small host of hair shirted chanters, much like the ones the group had seen just outside Vaunth-on-the-Lake. “Those are our Criers,” she explained. “They have a special connection to all the questers.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t remember making a special connection with anyone around these parts.”
“You don’t have to,” Bessie said. “Each group has one and those are ours. According to the lore, they’ll wail for our souls until we return.”
“Or die,” Madge added.
Ren brought a hand to his face. “Very nice. Can they do it quieter? I don’t mind someone wailing for my soul, but I’d a lot sure rather have the sleep.”
=======================================================
Morning came, as Killian had predicted, much too early. Ren was awaked by a loud knocking at the common chamber’s door, followed almost at once with it being pushed roughly open. He came out from his quarters in time to see a group of brown garbed men tumbling in. They moved with quiet grace, but it seemed like an invasion. Only that he could see Kerros and the other councilman from last night at the doorway, and that an attack on their chambers in the heart of Maissen castle was as likely as a green sky, kept Ren from going back for his bow.
When the hoard of guards stopped tumbling around and assumed positions throughout the room, Kerros and the other man stepped in. Kerros carried a large, ornate case with the care a father carries his newborn son. The other reached into his coat and pulled a set of matching glass lenses out. He put those to his eyes, and then gazed over the room. After a few moments he put them away and nodded.
Kerros put the case on the chamber’s central table, and the four heroes gathered around as he slowly opened it.
Killian gasped and stared, open mouthed, at what was inside. Bessie and Madge’s eyes grew large as they looked into the case. Ren whistled, impressed.
“Dwarven made” Kerros said. He reached in a pulled out a great sword, covered with intricate runes. “Forged by the hill dwarves of Ghost Dragon Mountain.”
“Impressive,” Killian said. “That is a kingly sword.”
Ren suddenly noticed an odd thing about it. He’d never seen a dwarf, never knew them to be real until a few days ago, but everything the tales said indicated they were short. “Forged by them for who?” he asked. “Aren’t they supposed to be too small to use a full size sword like that?”
“Forged for us,” Kerros said, “a long time ago. And now it is time for it to be returned from whence it came.” He placed the sword back in its case. “Will you agree to take it?”
Everyone nodded. “Yes,” Madge said, just to remove any doubt.
Kerros closed the case. “Very good. This will be among your gear when you depart this afternoon. Now - one more thing. You've heard the tales of halflings?"
Everyone nodded. "Good," Kerros said, "because they are true."
"What?" Ren said.
"Yes," Kerros said. "They are now extinct, killed by Idien. I bring them up because over the course of history halflings have become synonymous with gnomes."
Ren was running a hand through his hair trying to take this all in. The little people were real? What else that was myth would turn out to be true? Now gnomes? "I'm guessing you're about to tell us they're real too?"
"Indeed," Kerros said. "Few still live, but they are 'real'. We believe some of them live between Maissen and Ghost Dragon Mountain. Should you meet any, I implore you to invite them to come live in our nation."
"Why, may I ask," Madge asked.
"Their population is so small to be under threat," Kerros said. "And I will admit to you that they know rich secrets, secrets that would benefit Maissen."
Silence fell over the room. Ren was still reeling from the revelations. What the others might be thinking he was too mentally busy to consider.
"This I ask. Please keep it in mind," Kerros said.
He then nodded at one of the brown garbed guards, who made a hand gesture that sent half the guards bounding out of the room. The two councilmen followed, and then the other half of the guards left.
Bessie broke the silence that lingered behind the guards. “Well I guess that means we'll really be going all the way to the dwarves.”
“Aye,” Killian said as he stroked his beardless chin. “That it does.”
====================================================
The blessing ceremony in Maissen was a larger version of the one in Vaunth-on-the-Lake, with one crucial difference. Each of the three groups had a shelter to protect them from the sun. Apart from that, there were again more speeches than anyone could be reasonably be expected to pay attention through and there were again more blessings than anyone could reasonably be expected to keep track of. Before the ceremony was halfway complete, every Hero from the three towns was drenched in blessed water and oils, sitting in a cloud of blessed perfumes and incenses, and weighed down with blessed beads, feathers, miniature icons, and anything else remotely sacred to one of the multitude of gods that made up the Maissen pantheon. Ren was a pantheist himself, having never seen wisdom in putting too much devotion into any one god, but this was far too much for even him.
He and the other Heroes silently endured it all and at last they were presented with their official badges. Colorful stones set in a pendant with a soft ribbon, these were their permission to be out beyond the borders of Maissen. Ren smiled at the thought of showing this off to Lela and how her father would react to it. Then he remembered that receiving these badges had been a death sentence for scores of people. That sobered his thoughts. It could be him. He had to remember that. He had to be careful. There was too much to return to.
When at last the ceremony came to a conclusion the Heroes were led to their gear. Ren saw that the group from Kern had no animals or cart at all, while the group from Keros had an expensive mule. Escorts kept the groups separate as they all were paraded through the streets of Maissen and out into the countryside. Crowds of well wishers lined the streets, throwing even more flowers at the Heroes feet as they passed by. This blessing meant more to Ren than all the ones the various priests had delivered.
That afternoon the procession reached Tasformel. The westernmost temple was small, little more than a large main chapel and two small rooms, one the head priest’s home and one for storage. The Heroes were expected to make do.
“And here’s where we begin the rough of the wild,” Killian said.
All three of the other laughed. “We got a roof and walls,” Ren said. “And we’re not sleeping on dirt,” Madge added. “And we can be blessed again!” Bessie said, but in a low voice; the sarcasm in her voice was all too obvious.
The temple did indeed provide another set of blessing, but they also provided dinner for the Heroes and their escorts. As the groups ate, the escorts explained that they would travel with them the next day as far as the border fort, only a few hours away. Then they were turning around for home. The Heroes would be on their own.
======================================================
“This is silly,” Bessie said, as she looked over the chapel. Dinner was long over and the three groups of Heroes had retreated to different corners of the chapel; the escorts were already sleeping. “We’re acting like we’re poison to each other.”
Madge was checking her pack bindings. “No one wants to tip their hand to the others. Remember there’s more prestige for the group with the greatest success.”
“I think one of them just thinks it’s already the winners,” Ren said. He was looking at the red garbed group from Balos. They sat in a circle, going over something and occasionally looking over their shoulders. Sometimes they pointed at the other groups and chuckled, sometimes they looked ready to knife anyone who came too close.
“Them I already don’t take a liking to,” Killian said.
“That’s two of us,” Ren said. Madge nodded her agreement.
“Well I’m going to the other ones then,” Bessie said. “Kern treated us well, we can at least introduce ourselves.”
Killian grunted. Madge shrugged but didn’t move.
“I’ll come along,” Ren said.
They walked over to the group from Kern, which looked as much like a cleaned up team of rag tag Heroes as themselves. That made them already more likable that the redbreasts. The Kern group looked up, plainly surprised, as Bessie introduced herself and Ren.
“My name’s Morten,” the apparent leader said. He wore leathers like Ren and Bessie, but had a nasty looking sword. “This is Cane, Janos, and Anteros.” They all nodded in turn, and there was an awkward moment of silence that Morten finally broke. “Soooooooo, can we ask what ya’lls plans are?”
“We were thinking of heading northwest,” Bessie said. “There’s supposed to be an interesting valley up that way.”
Morten nodded. “Not us. We’re headed due west. Kill as many Chakta as possible. That’s where the money and fame come from.” He was speaking faster now, letting his excitement show. Apparently the two had established enough trust for some basic honesty.
Ren crouched down. “What do you think of the redbreasts over there?” he asked in a low voice.
“I’m trying not to.”
“We were thinking of trying to get them to head south, let them think we’re going after something great down that way.” Ren said. Bessie gave him a look. It was the first time she’d heard about it, but that was simply because it only just then had occurred to Ren.
Morten just laughed. “Head south? That takes a special kind of stupid.”
From there Bessie steered the conversation to their night in Kern. The others were happy to talk about their home town, and the time passed quickly. Walking back to Madge and Killian, who despite his earlier complaints was already asleep, Bessie whispered, “What was that about a trick?”
“It just came to me,” Ren said. “If we could trick the redbreasts into going south to get whatever they thought we were after, then they might get eaten by Idien. Didn’t work, but I figured it was worth takin’ the shot.”
Bessie rolled her eyes and didn’t say anything.
=========================================================
“You can stay for three days,” the fort commander said. “After that, you work like the rest of us. Got it?”
The three groups of Heroes nodded. They had just reached the last border fort a few minutes earlier and been introduced to its hard as nails commander.
“Good,” he said. “Now feel free to drop your gear someplace, find a bunk, get some grub, or what have you. If you need something find a trooper and ask.” He turned and walked over to the escorts. They all traded some scrolls and signed them before giving them back. Then the woman that had led the Heroes from Vaunth-on-the-Lake came up to them one last time.
“You are now on your own,” she said. “Do Maissen proud.” With that she turned and joined the escort for the redbreasts, who had apparently felt no need to say good bye to his group. When the escort for the Kern Heroes joined them, the trio of escorts left the fort and headed east to Maissen.
And then there were three groups of Heroes standing at the far end of civilization, each waiting for another to make the first move.
Beale Knight
First Post
Style
Thanks everyone that responded to my call for opinions on a syle to use for future updates. It's pretty clear everyone prefers the more dramatic style so that's what I'll use. This will slow down the updates, so expect one about every week to ten days. But it should be a decent read. If I start to to get dry please let me know.
Also, if some names seem to mysteriously change between readings, it means our DM has corrected my errors, or with some of the names I've simply made up in the typing (Tasformel being one example. I figured the last temple to the east would have a name other than "Last Temple to the East," but with none remembered or mentioned in my notes I just created it on the spot).
Thanks everyone that responded to my call for opinions on a syle to use for future updates. It's pretty clear everyone prefers the more dramatic style so that's what I'll use. This will slow down the updates, so expect one about every week to ten days. But it should be a decent read. If I start to to get dry please let me know.
Also, if some names seem to mysteriously change between readings, it means our DM has corrected my errors, or with some of the names I've simply made up in the typing (Tasformel being one example. I figured the last temple to the east would have a name other than "Last Temple to the East," but with none remembered or mentioned in my notes I just created it on the spot).
Beale Knight
First Post
02 - 02 Into the Wild
02-02
Nearly an hour passed with the three groups giving each other suspicious glances before anyone moved. Finally the redbreasts from Ballos gathered their gear and headed out. Ren wandered to the edge of the fort’s gate and watched as they marched due north.
“Good,” he said to himself, “not the direction we’re going.” Ren couldn't help sneering as he watched them go. There was just something about them. If he ever laid eyes on them again it would be too soon. He watched until they disappeared into the haze of the horizon and then nodded to the others from Vaunth-on-the-Lake. Bessie, Madge, and Killian gathered their gear and readied Jimmy and the cart.
Across the compound, the group from Kern was doing the same. “Best of luck with the Chakta,” Bessie said to them on the way out.
Another few steps and they were outside the fort’s perimeter. They took bearings, confirmed northwest, and were on their way. The adventure had really begun. They now had eighty-nine and one half days to find something worthwhile, and return.
==============================================================================================================================
Killian blinked against the unrelenting sun. “Are we really going anywhere?” he asked to anyone. “It’s hard t’ tell in this place.”
Madge, leading Jimmy, shook her head. “Watch the ground. It’s plain we are.”
Bessie chuckled. “Plain we are,” she repeated. At glances from Killian and Madge, she shrugged. “I see his point though.” She waved her hand around. “There’s nothing but flat grassland as far as the eye can see. An endless see of ankle high grass. It’s no wonder people get lost and wander in circles until they die out here.”
“There’s something else,” Ren said. “Right up ahead.” He had been scouting about twenty yards ahead since the fort fell out of sight, and this was the first time he’d come back to the others. “It’s not a pleasant sight though,” he added, his face pale.
He led them to a horrific landmark. A line of poles, twelve feet tall, stretched out of sight to the group’s left and right. Impaled on each pole was a chakta body. From the decay, these weren’t dead a month.
They simply stared, open mouthed for several long minutes. It was Madge that spoke first. “See how it runs,” she said, pointing up and down the line. “Generally northeast to southwest. Like the edge of Maissen.”
“This is how we mark the border?” Bessie whispered.
“A warning.” Killian said.
Ren shook his head. “I’m thinking it wouldn’t do the job,” he said. “If I saw my family put up on poles all it’d do is make me want to attack whoever did it all the more.”
“You’re right,” Madge said. “This won’t dissuade the chakta. All it does is make the army and council feel intimidating.”
Bessie turned away and gazed north. “Let’s get back on our way, please.”
==============================================================================================================================
“That’s not right,” Ren whispered to himself. Once again ahead of the others he’d just noticed a strange groundswell. He held a hand up to tell the rest of the group to hold their place a moment, then crouched down for a closer look.
There was a tiny rise just about twenty feet ahead. Tiny but neat, almost exactly the height of his little finger and flat as the surrounding ground. Ren tilted his head, then scurried back and around the rise, keeping his distance even. What he saw confirmed his suspicions, unbelievable as they were.
The rise was a circle. Not exactly, but close enough to suggest a burrowing animal. What made it unbelievable was that no burrowing animal made a lair like that, nothing larger than an insect anyway. Ren drew a deep breath, and then his eyes fell on another rise just like the first. This one just twelve or fifteen feet away from its mate.
Then it made sense. Walking as softly as he could manage, Ren made his way to the others. “Ambush,” he whispered. “Two covered up pits up ahead, maybe with chakta waiting inside.”
The others nodded. Bessie secured Jimmy and the goat and pulled out her unique crossbow. Ren and Madge readied their bows. Killian smiled and began to flew his fingers. They spread out, Ren and Killian flanking the first pit, Madge and Bessie further away but dead ahead. Weapons and magic ready to go, they all began to stomp the ground as they approached the pit.
Fifteen feet away they saw what they expected; the pit cover flew open. Then everything they’d assumed was proven wrong. No chakta came out.
It was a monster. A spider with a body as large as a dog and legs as long as a big man’s. The spider jumped from the pit and charged at Madge. Then a second spider, just as large, sprang out from the second pit and ran for Bessie.
Arrows and a bolt flew into the first monster spider, and the air sizzled with fire from Killian. The spider made it almost as far a Madge’s feet before the ranger put another arrow into it, dropping it dead to the ground.
Ren and Bessie had already turned their attention to the second spider. It was nearly on Bessie before they got their shots off, but even with the arrow and bolt in it, the moster barely slowed down. Killian ran a few steps to one side and sent another fan of flame to it. Every strand of the spell-born fire struck the spider, and the hair of its back caught and began to burn. Ren sent another arrow into it and Bessie plunged her dagger right into the center of its eyes. The spider made a weak attempt to bite its chosen prey, but fell dead with its fangs barely scraping the druid’s leathers.
Bessie jumped back and retrieved the crossbow she’d hastily thrown down, then fired a bolt into the burning spider’s head. “Unnatural hellspawn!” She took a breath and looked to the others. “Spiders should never get that big! It isn’t the proper way of the world.”
Ren suppressed a joke about reporting the spiders’ violations to the church (maybe they’d impose a fine) and walked up to the first spider. As Madge led Killian and Bessie in putting put the fire on the other one; “no sense calling attention to our presence,” she said, Ren dug out his knife. After a struggle he flipped the spider carcass over and cut into it. If it was built the same as a normal spider, it would have a poison sack of some kind that he could retrieve if he were careful.
After a few moments the hunter found what he sought. A few more minutes of careful cutting and he lifted out a fist sized sack from the spider’s body. This he tied off and proudly presented to the others. “May not last more than a week,” he said, “but it could end up as good to have.”
Others had wandered too close to the spiders in recent days. With Bessie holding the rope and the others standing guard, Madge went down into the two pits. Each held bits and pieces of bone that were once people, and she found a small gem in one, but nothing else. “Probably chakta,” she said. “This is too far out for any Maissener to wander out.”
“At least they don’t work together,” Killian said. “I say let the spiders have all the chakta they want. Let’s get back to it.”
==============================================================================================================================
The rest of the afternoon was trouble free. All around the group was endless grassland, a prairie unbroken by any landmark.
Except one.
As evening approached the group came across a wide swath of dead ground. A twenty foot wide stripe ran out of sight from the northeast to the southwest. Between the three of them, Bessie, Madge, and Ren determined the land had been stomped from grassland to dirt by scores or hundreds of bison – probably with riders.
Chakte. Headed southwest not fourteen hours ago.
It was a chilling reminder that they were deep in someone else’s land.
=======================================================================================
Late on the morning of their second day outside Maissen, the four Heroes noticed spot in the sky were moving about. As they got closer they were able to make them out as birds, and soon after they realized they were buzzards - scores of them, circling an area as they do when waiting for a meal to finally give up and die.
By then they could also see the smoke rising from the horizon, and smudges in the distant haze that suggested buildings. Like the buzzards, they were dead ahead.
“Civilization?” Killian asked.
Madge shook her head. “Chakta camp. It must be.”
“So,” Ren said, “are we sneaking up to raid it or sneaking around to avoid it?”
“We have more immediate problems,” Bessie said. She pointed off to the southwest.
The others turned to see two forms. As they focused, the Heroes could tell that they were bisons, and there was a shadow of a rider atop each. They were headed north, but not toward the Maisseners – they hadn’t appeared to have even noticed them yet. No one had to say it. These had to be chakta. And their destination was obvious.
“They’ll see us soon,” Madge said.
“We have a chance to take them,” Ren said. “The grass is too low to hide Jimmy and the cart, but if we crouch down it can hide us. Three of us hide and wait, the other makes it look like there’s a lone Maissener wandering lost through the grassland.”
“Hah!” Killian said. “I like it, but who’s y’ have in mind t’ play target?”
“I’ll do it,” Madge said.
She took Jimmy’s lead and waited as the others spread out and dropped out of sight. Madge then stood and took a long slow drink from her waterskin. By the time she put the skin away, the riders had noticed her.
Ren could only see her feet from his position, but he saw them turn and then plant. He imagined Madge standing as if afraid, putting a look of horror on her scarred face. Then her feet turned again and she began to move. She limped! Brilliant, Ren thought. The chakta would be expecting an easy target.
Ren nervously waited as Madge limped away. He began to feel something and realized it was tremors. The chakta must be charging. He gripped his spear a little tighter and waited.
“Now!” Madge shouted.
Ren jumped to his feet and spent exactly one heartbeat taking in the situation. The chakta had separated and were coming at Madge from either side. One was in perfect range. He threw his spear at the rider. It was a blessed throw. The spear flew dead on target, hitting the chakta rider’s chest and piercing through his back.
Madge launched an arrow at the same rider, hitting him in the leg. Desperately hurt from the two attacks, he fell from his bison and landed hard on the ground.
Bessie shot at the second rider, nicking one of his arms. Killian was jogging closer to the scene, cursing that the chakta was out of range.
That rider was bearing down on Madge, a long spear in his hand and an evil look on his face. Madge spun back to face him, readying another arrow. Ren pulled his bow around, knowing he’d never get an arrow off before this rider was trampling Madge. As the bison closed, Madge made a desperate jump to the side.
The chakta’s spear cut her cloak but touched none of her flesh. The rider then had to release the spear and turn his mount, which was headed right for the other bison. With no rider, the first bison had simply slowed to a stop and was now standing there, directly in the way of the second.
As he turned, Madge and Ren fired. Both arrows hit the chakta and he fell from his bison. A third shot from Bessie hit him on the way down, and the fall did the rest. The chakta landed wrong and when Ren and Madge ran up to him it was clear he was dead.
Ren walked to the first rider and saw he was still breathing. The spear had been pushed most of the way back out when the chakta hit the ground, which probably made the impact all the more painful. Ren grabbed the shaft and the chakta stirred.
“Not good getting ambushed when you’re ganging up on someone, you think?” Ren said.
The chakta muttered something, spat on Ren’s spear, and then fell back – dead. “Cur Spran?” Ren repeated. Wondering what that meant, Ren pulled his spear free.
“Y’ should have given me a chance t’ do something!” Killian shouted as he ran up.
“”Next time hide closer,” Ren chided with a smile.
“Enough,” Madge said. “We’re going to have to get moving. These bison can probably be seen from that camp up ahead, and they’ll probably send someone to come take a look before long.”
“Shouldn’t we examine what they have on them?” Bessie said. “Getting things is the whole reason we’re out here after all.”
“Don’t take too long,” Madge said.
Ren was scanning the north horizon. “While you do that, I’ll sneak up onto that camp so we can know what we’re facing.”
“That’ll take too long,” Madge said. “By the time you get there and back we will certainly have been seen by them.”
“Head that way,” Ren said with a point to the northwest. “Skirt the camp wide and I’ll catch up as you’re going.”
“It’s too dangerous.”
Ren smiled. “Keep a watch that way. If I get noticed I’ll run and scream so you can rescue me.”
Madge frowned but didn’t say anything more. Ren gathered his gear and dropped low, ready to crouch, crawl, and slither his way to the chakta camp.
[Story continues on Post 44]
02-02
Nearly an hour passed with the three groups giving each other suspicious glances before anyone moved. Finally the redbreasts from Ballos gathered their gear and headed out. Ren wandered to the edge of the fort’s gate and watched as they marched due north.
“Good,” he said to himself, “not the direction we’re going.” Ren couldn't help sneering as he watched them go. There was just something about them. If he ever laid eyes on them again it would be too soon. He watched until they disappeared into the haze of the horizon and then nodded to the others from Vaunth-on-the-Lake. Bessie, Madge, and Killian gathered their gear and readied Jimmy and the cart.
Across the compound, the group from Kern was doing the same. “Best of luck with the Chakta,” Bessie said to them on the way out.
Another few steps and they were outside the fort’s perimeter. They took bearings, confirmed northwest, and were on their way. The adventure had really begun. They now had eighty-nine and one half days to find something worthwhile, and return.
==============================================================================================================================
Killian blinked against the unrelenting sun. “Are we really going anywhere?” he asked to anyone. “It’s hard t’ tell in this place.”
Madge, leading Jimmy, shook her head. “Watch the ground. It’s plain we are.”
Bessie chuckled. “Plain we are,” she repeated. At glances from Killian and Madge, she shrugged. “I see his point though.” She waved her hand around. “There’s nothing but flat grassland as far as the eye can see. An endless see of ankle high grass. It’s no wonder people get lost and wander in circles until they die out here.”
“There’s something else,” Ren said. “Right up ahead.” He had been scouting about twenty yards ahead since the fort fell out of sight, and this was the first time he’d come back to the others. “It’s not a pleasant sight though,” he added, his face pale.
He led them to a horrific landmark. A line of poles, twelve feet tall, stretched out of sight to the group’s left and right. Impaled on each pole was a chakta body. From the decay, these weren’t dead a month.
They simply stared, open mouthed for several long minutes. It was Madge that spoke first. “See how it runs,” she said, pointing up and down the line. “Generally northeast to southwest. Like the edge of Maissen.”
“This is how we mark the border?” Bessie whispered.
“A warning.” Killian said.
Ren shook his head. “I’m thinking it wouldn’t do the job,” he said. “If I saw my family put up on poles all it’d do is make me want to attack whoever did it all the more.”
“You’re right,” Madge said. “This won’t dissuade the chakta. All it does is make the army and council feel intimidating.”
Bessie turned away and gazed north. “Let’s get back on our way, please.”
==============================================================================================================================
“That’s not right,” Ren whispered to himself. Once again ahead of the others he’d just noticed a strange groundswell. He held a hand up to tell the rest of the group to hold their place a moment, then crouched down for a closer look.
There was a tiny rise just about twenty feet ahead. Tiny but neat, almost exactly the height of his little finger and flat as the surrounding ground. Ren tilted his head, then scurried back and around the rise, keeping his distance even. What he saw confirmed his suspicions, unbelievable as they were.
The rise was a circle. Not exactly, but close enough to suggest a burrowing animal. What made it unbelievable was that no burrowing animal made a lair like that, nothing larger than an insect anyway. Ren drew a deep breath, and then his eyes fell on another rise just like the first. This one just twelve or fifteen feet away from its mate.
Then it made sense. Walking as softly as he could manage, Ren made his way to the others. “Ambush,” he whispered. “Two covered up pits up ahead, maybe with chakta waiting inside.”
The others nodded. Bessie secured Jimmy and the goat and pulled out her unique crossbow. Ren and Madge readied their bows. Killian smiled and began to flew his fingers. They spread out, Ren and Killian flanking the first pit, Madge and Bessie further away but dead ahead. Weapons and magic ready to go, they all began to stomp the ground as they approached the pit.
Fifteen feet away they saw what they expected; the pit cover flew open. Then everything they’d assumed was proven wrong. No chakta came out.
It was a monster. A spider with a body as large as a dog and legs as long as a big man’s. The spider jumped from the pit and charged at Madge. Then a second spider, just as large, sprang out from the second pit and ran for Bessie.
Arrows and a bolt flew into the first monster spider, and the air sizzled with fire from Killian. The spider made it almost as far a Madge’s feet before the ranger put another arrow into it, dropping it dead to the ground.
Ren and Bessie had already turned their attention to the second spider. It was nearly on Bessie before they got their shots off, but even with the arrow and bolt in it, the moster barely slowed down. Killian ran a few steps to one side and sent another fan of flame to it. Every strand of the spell-born fire struck the spider, and the hair of its back caught and began to burn. Ren sent another arrow into it and Bessie plunged her dagger right into the center of its eyes. The spider made a weak attempt to bite its chosen prey, but fell dead with its fangs barely scraping the druid’s leathers.
Bessie jumped back and retrieved the crossbow she’d hastily thrown down, then fired a bolt into the burning spider’s head. “Unnatural hellspawn!” She took a breath and looked to the others. “Spiders should never get that big! It isn’t the proper way of the world.”
Ren suppressed a joke about reporting the spiders’ violations to the church (maybe they’d impose a fine) and walked up to the first spider. As Madge led Killian and Bessie in putting put the fire on the other one; “no sense calling attention to our presence,” she said, Ren dug out his knife. After a struggle he flipped the spider carcass over and cut into it. If it was built the same as a normal spider, it would have a poison sack of some kind that he could retrieve if he were careful.
After a few moments the hunter found what he sought. A few more minutes of careful cutting and he lifted out a fist sized sack from the spider’s body. This he tied off and proudly presented to the others. “May not last more than a week,” he said, “but it could end up as good to have.”
Others had wandered too close to the spiders in recent days. With Bessie holding the rope and the others standing guard, Madge went down into the two pits. Each held bits and pieces of bone that were once people, and she found a small gem in one, but nothing else. “Probably chakta,” she said. “This is too far out for any Maissener to wander out.”
“At least they don’t work together,” Killian said. “I say let the spiders have all the chakta they want. Let’s get back to it.”
==============================================================================================================================
The rest of the afternoon was trouble free. All around the group was endless grassland, a prairie unbroken by any landmark.
Except one.
As evening approached the group came across a wide swath of dead ground. A twenty foot wide stripe ran out of sight from the northeast to the southwest. Between the three of them, Bessie, Madge, and Ren determined the land had been stomped from grassland to dirt by scores or hundreds of bison – probably with riders.
Chakte. Headed southwest not fourteen hours ago.
It was a chilling reminder that they were deep in someone else’s land.
=======================================================================================
Late on the morning of their second day outside Maissen, the four Heroes noticed spot in the sky were moving about. As they got closer they were able to make them out as birds, and soon after they realized they were buzzards - scores of them, circling an area as they do when waiting for a meal to finally give up and die.
By then they could also see the smoke rising from the horizon, and smudges in the distant haze that suggested buildings. Like the buzzards, they were dead ahead.
“Civilization?” Killian asked.
Madge shook her head. “Chakta camp. It must be.”
“So,” Ren said, “are we sneaking up to raid it or sneaking around to avoid it?”
“We have more immediate problems,” Bessie said. She pointed off to the southwest.
The others turned to see two forms. As they focused, the Heroes could tell that they were bisons, and there was a shadow of a rider atop each. They were headed north, but not toward the Maisseners – they hadn’t appeared to have even noticed them yet. No one had to say it. These had to be chakta. And their destination was obvious.
“They’ll see us soon,” Madge said.
“We have a chance to take them,” Ren said. “The grass is too low to hide Jimmy and the cart, but if we crouch down it can hide us. Three of us hide and wait, the other makes it look like there’s a lone Maissener wandering lost through the grassland.”
“Hah!” Killian said. “I like it, but who’s y’ have in mind t’ play target?”
“I’ll do it,” Madge said.
She took Jimmy’s lead and waited as the others spread out and dropped out of sight. Madge then stood and took a long slow drink from her waterskin. By the time she put the skin away, the riders had noticed her.
Ren could only see her feet from his position, but he saw them turn and then plant. He imagined Madge standing as if afraid, putting a look of horror on her scarred face. Then her feet turned again and she began to move. She limped! Brilliant, Ren thought. The chakta would be expecting an easy target.
Ren nervously waited as Madge limped away. He began to feel something and realized it was tremors. The chakta must be charging. He gripped his spear a little tighter and waited.
“Now!” Madge shouted.
Ren jumped to his feet and spent exactly one heartbeat taking in the situation. The chakta had separated and were coming at Madge from either side. One was in perfect range. He threw his spear at the rider. It was a blessed throw. The spear flew dead on target, hitting the chakta rider’s chest and piercing through his back.
Madge launched an arrow at the same rider, hitting him in the leg. Desperately hurt from the two attacks, he fell from his bison and landed hard on the ground.
Bessie shot at the second rider, nicking one of his arms. Killian was jogging closer to the scene, cursing that the chakta was out of range.
That rider was bearing down on Madge, a long spear in his hand and an evil look on his face. Madge spun back to face him, readying another arrow. Ren pulled his bow around, knowing he’d never get an arrow off before this rider was trampling Madge. As the bison closed, Madge made a desperate jump to the side.
The chakta’s spear cut her cloak but touched none of her flesh. The rider then had to release the spear and turn his mount, which was headed right for the other bison. With no rider, the first bison had simply slowed to a stop and was now standing there, directly in the way of the second.
As he turned, Madge and Ren fired. Both arrows hit the chakta and he fell from his bison. A third shot from Bessie hit him on the way down, and the fall did the rest. The chakta landed wrong and when Ren and Madge ran up to him it was clear he was dead.
Ren walked to the first rider and saw he was still breathing. The spear had been pushed most of the way back out when the chakta hit the ground, which probably made the impact all the more painful. Ren grabbed the shaft and the chakta stirred.
“Not good getting ambushed when you’re ganging up on someone, you think?” Ren said.
The chakta muttered something, spat on Ren’s spear, and then fell back – dead. “Cur Spran?” Ren repeated. Wondering what that meant, Ren pulled his spear free.
“Y’ should have given me a chance t’ do something!” Killian shouted as he ran up.
“”Next time hide closer,” Ren chided with a smile.
“Enough,” Madge said. “We’re going to have to get moving. These bison can probably be seen from that camp up ahead, and they’ll probably send someone to come take a look before long.”
“Shouldn’t we examine what they have on them?” Bessie said. “Getting things is the whole reason we’re out here after all.”
“Don’t take too long,” Madge said.
Ren was scanning the north horizon. “While you do that, I’ll sneak up onto that camp so we can know what we’re facing.”
“That’ll take too long,” Madge said. “By the time you get there and back we will certainly have been seen by them.”
“Head that way,” Ren said with a point to the northwest. “Skirt the camp wide and I’ll catch up as you’re going.”
“It’s too dangerous.”
Ren smiled. “Keep a watch that way. If I get noticed I’ll run and scream so you can rescue me.”
Madge frowned but didn’t say anything more. Ren gathered his gear and dropped low, ready to crouch, crawl, and slither his way to the chakta camp.
[Story continues on Post 44]
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