Part the Forty-First
In which: our new mission begins.
The journey from Dar Pykos south through the Confederacy is relatively uneventful. The roads are well traveled and seem free of the bandits that plagued the party last time they went this way. In fact, it is with a shock that they realize that less than two weeks have passed since Professor Alexandra first sent them on a mission to buy her diamond from the dwarves.
Someone wonders aloud if the diamond survived the fire.
Mostly though, the party adjusts to suddenly becoming a group of eight, instead of a group of five.
Hue of course is no stranger to most of the party. No stranger than the last time they went adventuring with him at least. Moira proves to be as convivial and outgoing as she was the first time they met her, and endears herself to almost everyone by singing whenever they are on the road.
(When Hue is listening to her sing, he isn’t asking questions, or trying to follow squirrels that scamper across the path.)
Eva, the Sedellan, tends to keep to herself. Lira finds, however, that she is not unfriendly, merely reserved around strangers.
“This is… quite the group,” she observes somewhat dryly.
Lira agrees. “It’s a good thing we’re on the King’s business, because I don’t think there’s another reasonable explanation we could give for all of us being on the road together.”
“If that’s even a reasonable explanation.” Both women giggle. “Are you Pykosian?” she asks.
Lira shakes her head. “Dar Henna, you?”
“Dar Darine.”
“I’ve never been there, is it nice?”
Eva shrugs. “Not so nice that I didn’t leave.”
Lira sighs. “I hear you.”
**********
Knowing only that the first archmage they seek lives somewhere in the wild lands to the south-west of the Darine Peninsula, the party plans to head towards Noran and see if there are any leads to be found there. Noran is an independent city-state, and the last human settlement of any size east of the Ketkath Mountains.
Although no one in the group has ever been to Noran, the city-state has a reputation in the Confederacy as a just and lawful place. Being relatively distant from their nearest civilized neighbors, the Noranians take it upon themselves to make sure their lands do not descend into anarchy. Roads are kept clear of bandits and in good repair to assure reliable trade.
However, before reaching Noran, the group does make one stop, to visit the dwarves of the Stoneshaper mines.
“Welcome back!” Gurn Stoneshaper greets the party with a wide smile and a once-over. “What can I do for you? Professor Alexandra looking for another diamond? Just found a beauty—”
Anvil cuts him off. “We come on business of our own. We are carrying large numbers of coins. They are both heavy and attractive to thieves. Can you exchange them?”
Gurn shrugs. “Sure. Get you some gems if you like. Thieves like them just as much though. More, since you can’t trace ‘em.”
Anvil strokes his beard thoughtfully. “We intend to travel to the Ketkath Mountains. Do you know of trustworthy individuals there?”
“Sure, got a cousin out working in the Ironroot mines. Why?”
“If we give you a sum of money, could you give us letters that he might redeem for us when we arrive?”
Gurn catches on quickly. “Not a problem. We can get you letters, and I’ll send word to Olek so he’s expecting you… Olek’s my cousin,” he explains.
“Thank you. May Ketennek reward you for your aid to us.”
Gurn nods quickly, “And you, and you… You folks staying the night?”
**********
Lira, Thatch, and Moira are the only party members who truly appreciate the extent of dwarven hospitality, being the only party members who can drink dwarven ale without gagging.
“Hey Gurn,” Lira asks, tapping his mug, “how’s this stuff cold?”
He laughs, “Come back in winter, lass.”
Lira grins. “Oh, I’ve got a trick you’re going to like.” She concentrates, casts, a silvery ray of frost shoots from her finger right at the dwarf’s ale. Grun watches in amazement, then takes a cautious sip of the sub-zero brew. He licks his lips, thoughtful.
“Can you do that again?”
“More than once.”
Gurn climbs up on the table and shouts to a couple of young dwarves who are serving that evening, “Lads! Bring out the good stuff!”
**********
The adventurers get off to rather a late start the following morning. Reyu looks at Anvil quizzically as she notices the half-keg now strapped to the back of his saddle.
“Are you certain that was a… wise… investment of party funds?”
“We are journeying to far lands, and requesting coin from dwarves who are strangers. It seems likely this will smooth relations.”
***********
Experimentation with holistic hangover cures aside, the road once again settles into an uneventful routine.
Each night regular watches are set, and each night nothing happens.
Until…
The party has been traveling for close to two week, and by Moira’s reckoning, they are only about two more days out from Noran. She, Lira and Reyu are sitting first watch. The night seems quiet.
Then Lira whispers, “Euro says he hears someone in the woods.”
Sure enough, the weasel’s tail has gone stiff as a bottle-brush and he runs back in forth in great agitation across Lira’s shoulders.
Reyu takes a quick scout around the camp, but comes back shaking her head. “Perhaps,” the elf suggests, “he heard a mouse.”
Lira sighs, “He said someone, not something.”
Yeah, you tell her, Boss.
Moira turns to check the area again, when she abruptly does notice something amiss.
It’s the man stepping out of the woods with a cross-bow leveled at her chest.
