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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 7337321" data-attributes="member: 143">That's what I do!My posting schedule may be a bit irregular over the coming few weeks; I have a few things going on that may keep me from making my usual updates. It should all clear up by the end of February.* * * Chapter 121The common room of the Brown Barrel was relatively quiet, even for the middle of the day.  Now that the chimera was dead the population of Wildrush had thrown itself into a frenzy of rebuilding, and even the idle folks who preferred to spend the day nursing a mug of ale had been caught up in it.  Only a few of the dozen tables or the stools that fronted the long bar were occupied, and the bartender was spending more time wiping down bottles and polishing glasses than serving up refills.One side of the room was dominated by a raised nook a step above the rest of the floor.  It was dominated by a single long table flanked by benches.  The perimeter of the nook was crowded with wooden racks that held, quite naturally, barrels, an assortment of 20-gallon casks that had their contents marked on the lids in chalk.  A side door that led out into the alley stood in the back of the nook, next to a hatch that led down into the cellar.When Glori and Quellan arrived and stepped through the swinging doors at the front of the common room it only took them a moment to spot Bredan and Rodan seated at the table in the nook.  The ranger quickly rose and crossed the room to greet them, gesturing for the bartender to bring them more glasses.“We’ve got something,” Rodan said, his voice low enough that it didn’t carry past the two new arrivals.  “Caleron found it.  But I’m a little bit worried about Bredan, he’s… well, you can see for yourself.”Frowning, Glori crossed the room quickly, Quellan and Rodan just a step behind her.  Bredan was sitting with his back to the room, with a thin, leather-bound book and a collection of assorted parchments spread out in front of him on the table.  He was bent over them so that his eyes were less than a foot from the pages, so intent on them that she doubted he’d even heard them come in.  She cleared her throat and said, “What’s all this?”He lifted his head and blinked at her.  “Oh.  Glori, Quellan.  Good to see you.  The mine leader gave this to us.  It belonged to Elver.”“He was one of the miners who died in the beetle attack, wasn’t he?” Quellan asked.  He picked up one of the loose sheets of parchment, every inch of which was covered in a dense scrawl of writing.“What is it, some kind of journal?” Glori asked, leaning over his shoulder to look at the book.“Sort of,” Bredan said.  “At least, that’s how it started out.  Reflections on his job, everyday thoughts, that sort of thing.”“Just the fact of literacy among his crew is something of a notable event,” Rodan said.“Don’t talk ill of the dead,” Glori chided, but she frowned as she touched another of the parchments with her finger.  “This all looks like gibberish.”“It gets more nonsensical over time,” Bredan said.  “Apparently, he suffered from bad dreams, visions almost.  But I’m convinced that he knew that something was going to happen.  He writes here about a, ‘power growing under the ground.’”“It sounds like he was crazy,” Glori said.“It’s more than that,” Bredan said.  “He was perceiving something real.”“Do you think he was somehow responsible for the attack by the vermin?” Quellan asked.Bredan shook his head.  “Not responsible,” he said.  “Connected, somehow.”Glori looked like she was going to say something, but they were interrupted by the bartender, who brought over a tray holding four mugs of ale.  He cleared away the empties—Bredan hadn’t touched his last one—then returned to his place on the far side of the room.“Bredan,” she said.  She flicked her eyes briefly at Rodan before continuing.  “Is this connected to what’s happening to you?”Rodan had picked up his mug, but he straightened and put it down untasted.  For a minute the young smith-turned-warrior fidgeted in his seat, then finally he brought a fist down slowly onto the surface of the table and said, “I don’t know.”  He looked up at Rodan, saw the question on his face.  Bredan sighed.  “I can do magic,” he said.  “Sometimes.  It’s happened a few times now.  The first time was in the fight with the ogres who ambushed us on the road through the mountains.  More recently, it came in real handy in the battle against the beetles.”“Magic?” Rodan asked.  “What kind of magic?”“I don’t know,” Bredan said.  “It only seems to work when I’m in dire straits; at least, I haven’t been able to summon it deliberately.  I’ve been able to conjure a magical shield that lasts just a few seconds, and bring my sword back to my hand if I lose it.”“It saved our lives, I suspect,” Quellan said.  “That giant bug would have squashed us into paste if you hadn’t intervened.”“It sounds like arcane magic,” Rodan said.  “I mean, I haven’t met a lot of casters in my day, but it’s not like you can summon demons or cause earthquakes or anything, right?”The others shared a quick look at that, and the ranger’s eyebrows lifted until Bredan shook his head and said, “No, nothing like that.”“So how is that connected to… this?” Rodan asked, gesturing toward the documents atop the table.“Because of this,” Bredan said.  He drew out a fold of parchment that had been tucked into the back of the book.  He carefully unfolded it to reveal an odd diagram.  Dozens if not hundreds of lines stretched across the sheet, surrounded by tiny scrawls of unreadable text and other markings that made no sense but which evoked unpleasant feelings when looked upon for too long.“That… that’s gibberish,” Glori said.“I have to agree,” Rodan said.  “I don’t know much about magic, but that looks like the product of a sick mind.”“Do you see something else in it, Bredan?” Quellan asked, a hint of worry creeping into his voice.“I can,” Bredan said.  “It’s a map.”</blockquote>

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