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Message: <blockquote data-quote="ellinor" data-source="post: 5071350" data-attributes="member: 14561">9x02For the first time in what felt like weeks, Thurran awoke without chains on his ankles.  There was a familiar smell in the air—not the stench of the tunnels, but something else.  Something comforting.  He sat up and rubbed his eyes.  He was surrounded by family.  His mother was nearby, tending to his kin-mother, Jalissi.  Ah, that was the smell:  Mirtal was cooking, standing over a pot, stirring furiously.  Thurran felt the cold of the small stone that now hung around his neck.  “You are Lord Rockminder, now,” his mother had said.  It was too much to take in.  One moment, his family was in a caravan.  The next, there were derro, and whips, and dust, and zombies, and his kin-mother crying, and that amazing human with the warhammers . . . and not his father.  He missed his father—his strong, gentle hands; his funny gray hair; his thoughtful authority.  Now Thurran would have to make decisions. He didn’t even know what decisions he’d have to make.He watched the bustle of the camp.  A few steps away, the red-haired human, Arden, brought food to the older dwarves, but they bowed to her and refused.  She didn't seem to understand:  she tried again to hand them the bowls of food.  They shook their heads politely, still bowing before her.  She said pleading words in her language:  “eet, eet.” When they bowed once more, she opened her mouth as if she was going to say something else, but no words came out.  A tear slid down her cheek.  She wiped it away quickly, as if she didn't want anyone to know she was sad.The human healer, Savina, saw her anyway.  “What have you done to upset Arden?”  she asked the dwarves.  Thurran answered.  “She saved their lives.  They must honor her, and cannot eat until she does.”“It is my job to take care of her,” Savina replied, “not theirs.  But she may eat with  them.”  Savina went over and said words to Arden.  Arden still seemed sad, but she nodded to the healer, took one bite of food herself, and then waited to have any more until the dwarves began eating.  Thurran followed Kormick around the camp, mimicking his movements.  If he wasn’t going to have a father, at least there was this man.  Sometimes, the man would try to talk to him, and he would try to talk to the man, but they didn’t understand each other.Eventually, Kormick called Mena over.  He kneeled in front of Thurran and, with Mena translating, said, “You know, I’m not just a strikingly handsome fighter and skilled woodland guide.  I’m also an envoy of the King of Dar Und.”Thurran’s eyes widened.  A king!“I would like to offer a treaty of friendship between Dar Und and the Rockminder clan.”  He held out one of his warhammers.  “That means that if someone from Dar Und asks a Rockminder for help, you’ll help, and we’ll help the Rockminders if they need it.”This was the most exciting thing in the world.  “I pledge my clan to you!”  Thurran squealed.“An agreement between my King and you is sufficient,” the man replied. He handed the warhammer to Thurran.  It was half the boy’s height.  “I will use this in my left hand,” he said, brandishing a derro battle axe, “and you keep that hammer.  I would advise you to study its uses with your kin-mother Corani.  She is very . . .” (here Mena paused in her translation) “. . . brave.”  I have to remember the human word for “brave,” Thurran thought. “ah-nor-ably mur-dur-us.”  Thurran’s cheeks ached from grinning.“We should be off,” Mena said.  “We have hard travel before us and angry derro behind us.”One by one, the humans picked up their packs.  Mirtal quenched the fire.  And Kormick, together with one of the human women, led the way into the dark of the forest.DM’s Note:  Travel mechanics were handled as an Obsidian style skill challenge.  More info will be provided in a post below.###Arden watched the four dwarven men she had saved, Romek, Vorret, Bronst, and Pulan, as they stumbled into a clearing to make camp.  The group had walked hard all night and most of the day, and everyone was tired.  It was clear that the four of them, especially, had made it this far by force of will alone.For the second night in a row, Mirtal cooked.  “I thought it best to give him something to do,” Savina said of the dwarf.  Arden made herself useful, too, stirring when Mirtal gestured for her to stir and helping him serve the crowd sitting around the fire.  As they had yesterday, Romek and his companions waited to eat until she did.  Their bowed heads continued to disturb her.  If only she could speak to them, she could discern for herself how they truly felt about her – and how she should feel about them.  At first, she had worried most that they were treating her with fearful subservience beaten into them by the derro.  Last night, however, the Blessed Daughter had told her that the four were simply thanking her according to their customs, and Mena had reassured her that she would do more injury to their pride by rejecting their gratitude than by accepting it.  It still felt wrong… but if I respect the dwarves, and if this is their code, she told herself, then I should abide by it.  She sat down with her dinner self-consciously, nodded to Vorret, and took a bite.  He nodded back and the dwarves began to eat.But she was still worried. Has anyone even told them I'm a slave?  What if they don't know, and when they find out, they're disgusted that they've honored me?  And what if the Blessed Daughter decides I’m putting on airs?  And … what if I've freed them from one enslavement only to force them into another, with me as their new mistress?  Gods, why can't we just talk?  After dinner, Mena approached her.  “The former slaves are exhausted.  Do you think there is any way we can keep their spirits up?  We cannot risk losing them, but if we slow our pace any more, we risk losing everyone.”Arden looked down as she considered how low their spirits must be.  They had gone from being driven by Lurx’s henchmen to being driven by a group of crazy humans.  One enslavement to the next, she thought again.  “I’ve been where they are,” she replied.  "And there's no easy answer."  No easy answer… but… if we could just talk.“No one will be left behind,” stressed Mena."No," Arden agreed.  Whatever it took, she was not leaving these men behind.  "I wish I could speak to them." “You can speak to them through me, if you wish,” offered Mena.“Just . . . I thank them.”  She would keep Mena's offer in mind – but first, she had to think.###After two days of hard marching, Twiggy needed a rest.  She hadn’t slept well since they emerged from the derro cave, and their trek required an immense amount of concentration.  The trail from the Alirrian monastery to the spring might have been clear at one time, but it was overgrown and obscured now.  And although Kormick was, technically, the group’s guide, Twiggy had learned all about plants from her father, and her half-elf instincts made her as good at tracking in nature as Kormick was at maneuvering in urban settings.  In this foreign environment, both of their skills were taxed to their limits.  For Twiggy’s part, the process was a combination of instinct and analysis:  extrapolating from what she knew of familiar plants, and applying it to the strange flora of the Ketkath.  Which shoots were new; which branches showed signs of exposure to the elements; which mosses might have grown on fresh soil so many years ago.  Keeping the pace up meant guessing sometimes.  Twiggy didn’t like guessing.  She squinted at the faintest of signs and motioned the group forward.The hard-driving pace had taken its toll on several of the others, as well—Nyoko and Tavi were each looking a bit ragged, having had very little time to recover from their ordeals in the cave, and as for the dwarves who had been enslaved, Twiggy imagined that the only thing keeping them on their feet was Mena’s constant patter of heroic tales from Dwarven history, inspiring them on.  It was a relief when the group decided to spend part of the third day resting and foraging for food. As they prepared their camp for the night, Savina made an announcement.  “It is time to prepare for Alirria Ascendant.” Twiggy thought for a moment.  Savina was right—Alirria Ascendant, a day of peace, fasting, meditation, and contemplation to celebrate Alirria’s life-giving nature, which fell on April 15, would occur in just a few days.  Savina continued.  “I intend to begin preparatory rituals tomorrow.  Will anyone join me?”Twiggy was reassured by the blank stares and quizzical looks on the other faces.  It wasn’t just her.  “Pardon my ignorance, Savina.  What is involved in the preparatory rituals for Alirria Ascendant?”“There are special prayers and bathing, at dawn.”Twiggy heard Acorn’s voice in her head.  Bathing!  Do it do it do it DO IT!“It would seem,” said Twiggy, “that following Alirrian tradition for Alirria Ascendant would qualify as ‘following Alirria’s path.’  We still need to do that if we are going to find the Spring, if the Honored Mother was correct.”“Plus,” Kormick added, elbowing Tavi in the ribs, “maidens in the nude.”In the morning, the women found a nearby stream to bathe in as Savina said prayers.  Arden walked off a little way, finding a secluded spot downstream before removing her clothing.  Twiggy took the opportunity to pepper Nyoko with questions.“So . . . tell me more about what Adepts do.”Nyoko got the same quizzical look she had when Kormick had asked her about Adepts before.  Clearly, Twiggy thought, one thing that Adepts did not do was explain what Adepts did.  In the Sovereignty, Twiggy realized, everyone must already know what Adepts do.  “The answer is different for every Adept,” Nyoko replied, after a little thought.  "We are all trained in a variety of disciplines—music, dancing, oration, martial arts, visual arts, history, archiving, scholarship—and we all serve as witnesses in the justice of Kettenek.  But different Adepts have different specialties.”“And your specialty is . . .” Twiggy trailed off, questioningly.“I have not yet chosen one.  But there are certain things I am good at.  I play the flute.  I sing.  I dance.  I am a competent archer.”Twiggy smiled.  Apparently, Adepts were also trained in understatement.  “So,” Twiggy continued, “you will probably become one of those.”“Well . . . let us say that I am unlikely to become a composer.”# # #While the womenfolk bathed, Tavi and Kormick broke camp and watched the sky.  It was a gray day, and cold for April.   Suddenly, just as the women returned to the camp clearing, Tavi heard a loud squawking noise.  Above, an ugly winged beast—it looked like the derro lizard-dogs, but with wings—circled their camp.  “Uh, guys—” Tavi began.  But before he could even finish—THWAP.  SHUNK.  As Tavi watched, a stone from Arden’s sling punctured its wing, leaving a hole, and an arrow from Nyoko’s bow pierced its side.  It shrieked.  Out of the corner of his eye, Tavi could see Twiggy casting.The creature twisted and rolled in the air before swooping down toward the party.  In one fluid motion, it seized the warhammer from Thurran’s back and swooped away toward the trees.  “No!”  cried Thurran, jumping ineffectually after it.THWAP.  Another stone from Arden’s sling, and the beast fell from the sky, landing at the edge of the clearing.  Kormick ran toward it and cut its head off with the derro battle-axe he had picked up back in the caves.  “Can’t do that with a warhammer,” he announced, swinging the axe theatrically before pulling his old hammer from the beast’s talons and handing it back to Thurran.“A scout,” mused Tavi.  Mena and Kormick nodded assent.  “Time to move.”  For the rest of the day, they stayed under cover of forest, following the trail and watching the clouds darken.</blockquote>

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