el-remmen
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"Out of the Frying Pan" - Book II: Catching the Spark (Part Two) - {complete}
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el-remmen
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Session #29 (part II)
“The fight is over. Everyone drop your weapons!” Martin called, holding his hands out and open. He looked at Relaford who still pointed his crossbow at Ratchis.
A second guard stepped out of the mist hesitantly, and when he saw Relaford covering the half-orc his drew his long sword.
“So look, I have an idea,” Relaford began. “We just you leave, and we say you all escaped in the chaos of that thing’s attack. We could even say one of you was eaten by that thing and then everyone will think your are dead.”
Martin shook his head, “We are going to Twelve Trolls.”
“Lower your crossbows!” Ratchis barked. The other guard was startled, but Relaford held his gorund.
“Why do you have to make this difficult? We are giving you a chance to get away with no trouble and no more blood spilt,” Relaford said.
Martin looked over and suddenly noticed the blood staining the snow around and beneath Kazrack.
“Jana! Jana, where are you?” the Watch-mage called into the mist. “Kazrack is dying! You’re still here, Jana?”
The young witch came out of the mist.
Ratchis looked at Relaford, “I could heal the dwarf, but I am not going to move until you and your man put down your weapons. His death will be on your heads.”
“If we wanted to harm you we would have done it already,” Martin said. “We only want a chance to speak to the king and clear our names.”
“I’m going to lose my job,” Relaford said, lowering his crossbow. The other guard hesitated, but then sheathed his sword.
Ratchis lowered his own crossbow and walked over to where Jana was calmly binding Kazrack’s near-mortal wounds. He leaned over and called to his goddess to heal the dwarf, and in a moment Kazrack’s eyes were fluttering as he coughed.
“Whu… where’s Richard?” Kazrack coughed out.
“He got away again,” Ratchis replied.
“Damn!” the dwarf groaned. “We need to bring him to the king to clear us.”
“Well, you don’t have this Richard guy, whoever he is,” Relaford said. “So you might as well go on your way and we’ll do our best to cover up the whole thing.”
“No, we’re going to Twelve Trolls,” Kazrack said, sitting up.
“Yeah, so we have to…” Relaford’s voice trailed off.
The guards helped the party lift the manticore’s corpse onto the wagon. It seemed to smoke occasionally, and smelled to Kazrack like molten copper.
“I’m glad you showed up,” the dwarf said to Ratchis as they wiped their hands clean of the beast’s ichor in the snow.
“I wish I could have gotten here sooner,” the half-orc replied.
“You got here when we needed you, that’s all that matters,” Kazrack gave Ratchis an awkward pat on the shoulder.
“I won’t be going back to Twelve Trolls,” Ratchis said. “No matter what they will be wanting to arrest me.”
“You are probably right,” the dwarf concurred.
“I won’t be going back either,” Jana said, overhearing as she walked over. “Even without Rindalith around they may decide to hold me until they get things straightened out, and we don’t have time for that.”
“If that is how it has to be,” Kazrack said. “But I was thinking we should tell the king the whole thing; the whole truth.”
“I do not trust the king,” Ratchis said.
“Not do I,” said Martin walking over. “But on the matter of Jana, I fear that you will be a fugitive if you do not hand yourself over with the rest of us.”
”I am not exactly unused to dealing with the law,” Jana said, and walked over to check on Beorth and Jeremy’s bandages, as they had been moved onto the wagon. Kazrack gave her a sideways glance.
“Why couldn’t the manticore have killed and eater her?” Ratchis said with a sigh.
“We could say that it did,” Relaford suggested.
Kazrack, Martin and Ratchis looked at the guard, and slowly nodded.
“That is not a bad idea,” Ratchis said.
It was agreed that this was the story that would be told. Ratchis would not be mentioned and that Jana was eaten by the manticore. Ratchis would take Jana with him and they would wait along the route to Twelve Trolls and then follow the others to the pass overlooking the castle (120) and wait there for a sign from Martin that would tell Ratchis and Jana if the group had been pardoned. Ratchis and Jana would wait a maximum of three days and then move on to complete their tasks for Osiris if there were no word.
“Okay, I need to chain you to the back of the wagon,” Relaford said to Kazrack.
“How come? We have proved we have no intention to escape,” the dwarf replied, indignantly.
“Look, this is how you wanted to handle this, and for no one to get suspicious if we happen upon anyone or when we arrive at Earthport we need to handle things are normal as possible,” Relaford explained.
Kazrack acquiesced.
Ratchis and Jana moved off the path to the south and found a sheltered spot where they camped for the night, Ratchis casting endure elements on his companion.
The wagon continued on eastward to Earthport. The manticore corpse had a stench hanging onto it like a burning rotted carcass, and Relaford and his men walked along either side of the wagon wearily, clutching their wounds and wearing long faces. Martin also walked along side, as the front bench of the wagon was full by Jeremy and Beorth’s still unconscious forms were draped there.
It had already been dark for over an hour when they rolled into Earthport. Earthport was built on a large chunk of solid bedrock that was adjacent to a huge marsh that extended as far as the eye could see during daylight, but in the dark all they could hear was the muted sound of toads and insects. The town itself was made up of many small square buildings built very close together creating a labyrinth of narrow streets lined in places with hooded lanterns.
They were brought to the constable’s office of Earthport, and Kazrack, Jeremy and Beorth were put in separate cells, while Martin was given a blanket and a bench in the entry room.
Anulem, 14th of Dek – 564 H.E.
The next morning Claude Rhines the alderman of Earthport came by the constable office to see Martin the Green, while the local guards kept the ogling townsfolk away from the manticore corpse. A sickly cold rain fell over everything.
Rhines told Martin about how Earthport was still in danger from the orcs that fled the skirmishes of two years before and into the swamp that lay to the south of town. He went on to imply that Earthport might be just the place for a Watch-mage to settle down once he chose a permanent place to settle in Gothanius. He explained how there was already a woodsman, a follower of Osiris (but not a druid) who lived in the swamp and hunted the orcs down and helped the local people when he could. Martin asked if hew could speak with this man, named Seerin No-Road, but the alderman explained that he had not been seen in some time and that he kept to himself a lot.
Kazrack awoke feeling feverish. He could feel blisters on his tongue and all around the inside of his mouth, and his head felt foggy. He alternated between flushed and pale. The dwarf could barely remember a dream he had had in the night. He was within a circle of trees, hammering at a forge, and all around him he could see and feel glowing eyes watching him from the darkness between the trees. He could hear the whispered chattering of strange voices.
Kazrack moaned, feeling the weight of his need to accomplish his task for Osiris upon his heart. (121)
By mid-morning Kazrack was chained back to the wagon and they were being led out of town to the north. A few miles outside of town, Kazrack was unchained and allowed to use his divine spells to heal Beorth and Jeremy, both of whom were still unconscious from the wounds they had suffered in the battle with Rindalith and the manticore.
Jeremy was further from death, but he did not awaken. Beorth stirred.
“Martin, I don’t feel like talking much, can you bring Beorth up to date with what has happened?” Kazrack asked the watch-mage.
“Okay,” Martin agreed. “But what should we say to Beorth about Jana?”
“I don’t think we should hide anything from Beorth,” Kazrack said.
“Good, all these lies have me confused,” Martin said with a sigh.
After being healed and awakened, Beorth took some time to give thanks to Anubis and then laid his hands upon the Neegaardian’s chest and said, “Anubis, Guardian of the Dead, give me your strength to bring this man back from the borders of death.”
Soon, Jeremy was stirring, and before they knew it the both of them were being pulled along, chained to the back of the wagon.
“I have a question,” Jeremy asked, when he became more clear-headed. “Why are we chained? Did we get captured again?”
“Kazrack’s their willing prisoner, as am I,” replied Beorth.
“So Jana and Ratchis are gone?” Jeremy asked bewildered.
“Yes,” replied Beorth.
“They are really gone,” Jeremy said, his voice catching in his throat.
“They are still with us,” Beorth said.
“Huh? You mean in spirit?”
“No, they live still. They are following, and we will meet with them after our fate has been decided at the king’s court,” Beorth explained.
“Oh, good…uh, I guess.”
------
“I’m cold,” Thomas whispered in Martin’s mind as they crossed over the pass down into the awesome chasm Gothanius Castle was an island in.
“Don’t worry, we are almost there,” Martin reassured his familiar, stroking his head. “Here have some dried apricots… oh wait, never mind.”
“Ya know, I want to want them, but I really don’t want them anymore.”
“I know… don’t worry. I’ll teach you some more reading tonight. I’ll even teach you how to read the word ‘nut’. You’ll like that,” Martin suggested.
“I used to dream about nuts,” Thomas replied. “But now I hardly sleep, and when I do I don’t dream about them anymore.”
---------
They came through the castle gates a little more than two hours later. Jeremy, Beorth and Kazrack were cold and exhausted. In the west, the sun was beginning to set and the wind was howling in the canyons north of Gothanius.
“I will need to speak with the king immediately,” Martin the Green told the lieutenant of the wall-guard that was on duty.
“I will need to alert the captain of the guard, and the castle steward, sir,” the guard said. “But in the meantime please wait in the guardhouse, while I see that the prisoners are brought to cells. I will also have to take a report from Relaford of the Ogre’s Bluff guard.”
Relaford shot Martin a worried looked.
“Please wait patiently,” the guard told Martin and then gestured for one of his men to show the watch-mage to where he should wait. Martin looked back at Relaford and tried to nod reassuringly.
“There is also the matter of the manticore’s corpse we brought with us,” Martin said.
“It will be stored somewhere safe so that those that have more authority than I can determine whatever it is they might need to determine about it upon examination,” the guard said, sounding annoyed and dismissive.
Martin waited over two hours before Daniel the Castle Steward came for him.
“Martin, I am sorry that you had to wait so long, but I needed to take care of some things that your unexpected arrival might precipitated,” the round-faced young courtier said, putting out his hand to shake Martin’s. “Come with me, I will bring you to your former quarters. I have arranged for a meal and fresh bedclothes to be brought there. I am sure you are hungry and tired, but we have much to talk about, especially in regards to the story we got from the guards from Ogre’s Bluff.”
Soon, Martin was relaxing in an over-stuffed chair in a nightshirt and a woolen robe, before a roaring fireplace. Before him was a tray full of strings of roast pork smothered in gravy on a bed of the days bread crusts and a bowl of steaming broth, and a foaming mug of ale.
Jeremy, Kazrack and Beorth were sleeping on moisten dirt floors that smelled of urine, after they had been given a foul white gruel filled with unidentifiable gray chunks for dinner.
Jana and Ratchis were sitting beside a small fire set under an over hang of rock, and within a little nook to shield it from being seen from the castle towers, waiting for word in the morning.
“So, it seems that a lot has happened since we saw you last,” Daniel started. “I feared that perhaps that you were dead since months passed with no word.”
“Yes, a lot has happened, but what has happened most recently is what is of most concern,” Martin said,
“You mean the arrest of your companions?” Daniel said.
“Yes.”
“Well, they are not the first to be arrested,” Daniel said, leaning back in his own chair. “Two other groups of would-be ‘dragon-hunters’ have been imprisoned for taking to waylaying travelers.”
“I assure you that my companions have not been waylaying anyone,” Martin said, sternly.
“Oh, I am sure of that as well,” Daniel said with a smile. “Relaford told us that it all began with the arrest and then escape of the girl named ‘Jana’. It seems that she was eaten by the manticore?”
“No, she was not,” said Martin with a sigh. “Unfortunately, she did not trust that she would get fair treatment by the authorities and that she would be imprisoned until everything was straightened out, or at worse that she might be handed over to the false representative of the Kingdom of Herman Land.”
“Well, we have no record in the court of any representative or bounty-hunter from the Kingdom of Herman Land being with our borders, and if there it he is here without the leave of the Crown. And since neither he nor she is here to state the case and I am the one who would arrange the audience with the King, I have the authority to declare it a null matter. She is free to travel in Gothanius, but is still subject to the laws and regulations of our kingdom as any visitor or traveler is. I will be sending word to the authorities in the different alder-villages not to cooperate with this man, and to hold him for questioning if he does turn up.”
“Make sure the yare warned that he is a very powerful warlock and can assume the shape of different animals, perhaps different people,” Martin added.
“Duly noted,” Daniel replied.
“And my other companions?”
“Well, the other three will be released,” Daniel said. “If Jana of Westron is not to be detained, the charges against them can easily be made to disappear.”
“You don’t know how much I appreciate your quick handling of this entire unfortunate situation,” Martin said, gratefully.
“Have you gathered any news of the dragon?” Daniel asked, looking down at the plate of food that Martin had not yet touched.
“We have heard some rumors and some seen some signs of something, but it might have only been the manticore that we slew and returned here with,” Martin said.
“Have you fought many such fearsome creatures with our borders?” Daniel’s eyebrows raised up in concern.
“No. No, we have not,” Martin said, moving the meat and gravy around in his plate with a piece of bread. “But we have discovered evidence that scores of these creatures called quaggoths have enter the caves beneath Ogre’s Bluff and might be an advance force for an invasion of the dark elves of the Plutonic Realms.”
“Dark elves?” Daniel laughed, and sat up straight. “But there is no such thing!”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Ortun, but I am afraid to tell you that they are very real and pose a very real danger to the Kingdom of Gothanius, if not the entirely of Derome-Delem.”
“How soon can such an invasion be expected,” Daniel was growing alarmed.
”That is the good news,” Martin said, smiling. “It will likely be many, many years before such an attack were to come to the surface.”
Daniel let out a long low breath.
“There is also the matter of Ratchis,” Martin added quickly.
“Ah, you mean the half-breed woodsman that assaulted the guards in Ogre’s Bluff during his escape?” Daniel asked.
“Well, he did no permanent harm to anyone, and he was being wrongfully imprisoned,” Martin said, meekly.
“Yes, well…,” Daniel cleared his throat. “There is little I can do about him. Even if I send word that he is to be cleared of all charges, his ancestry is not one that is appreciated in Gothanius, and I cannot promise that some group of locals might not take the law into their own hands. While I can assure there will be no official inquiry into his actions, his fate is in his own hands if he returns to areas that have heard of his exploits.”
“I guess that is better than can be hoped for,” Martin sighed.
“Now, you must understand that all of this aid I am giving you must remain between us,” Daniel said, lowering his voice. “It will take quite a bit of string pulling just to get your friends released and get the proper papers filed and messages sent. The king need not be bothered with this matter, all that matters to him is that you do your job for the benefit of Gothanius, and that you have companions you are comfortable with to accomplish this task.”
Martin nodded.
“However, as you will recall I had sent word to you about a specific task that needed to be accomplished by you and your companions for the sake of the kingdom,” Daniel said. “At that time I was willing to use my influence to get your friends free of the contact they signed, however, since it took all of my influence to get them freed, we will have to assume that that is what I am giving you in return for doing what I am about to tell you.”
Daniel paused, and Martin looked at him puzzled.
“There was a reason why I wanted to meet you away from the castle, but now this cannot be avoided,” Daniel said, lowering his voice. “The king cannot find out about what I am going to tell you, nor can the populace at large for the good of the stability of the kingdom.”
“What is it?” Martin asked.
“It seems that a dark warlock was able to steal a diary belonging to the Queen,” Daniel said, lowering his voice to a near whisper. “Unfortunately, this diary details a dalliance that must not become common knowledge no matter what it takes. Not only can the king not find out about this, but his very fitness to rule could come into question if certain ambitious nobles were to gain this information. You must discretely re-gain the diary and return it for me to return to the Queen. And no one, not even you, may look at its contents. If it becomes necessary that you need to look in it to confirm what it is, then I prefer it be you and no one else, but even that should not be necessary. It should be obvious what it is when you see it.”
“A dark warlock?” Martin asked, with an edge of suspicion in his voice.
“Yes, our sources say that his is named Rindalith, and has been seen meeting with what appear to be monks of Anubis in both Earthport and Summit,” Daniel said.
“Why, that is the same man who was after Jana!” Martin exclaimed.
“I figured as much, thus my willingness to believe your story about his inauthenticity.” Daniel said.
“So, what now?” Martin asked.
“Your companions will be freed in the morning and then you will be allowed to return to the alder-villages seeking this warlock and the diary and doing whatever else you have to do in terms of the hunt for the dragon and any investigating on this dark elf situation you need to do,” Daniel said. “However, I would like for you to write down everything you know about Rindalith and anything else you have discovered since you were last here and turn it in to me before you leave.”
“Very well, I will do my best,” Martin replied.
Daniel stood and put out his hand. “I want you to know that your efforts for the Kingdom of Gothanius are very much appreciated, and I wish you the best in your endeavors.”
“Thank you, and thank you for all your help, Mr. Ortun,” Martin said, shaking his hand as firmly as he could.
“Please, in private you may call me ‘Daniel’,” the steward said.
Martin thanked him again, and then Daniel left.
The watch-mage spent the night writing the requested record.
Ralem, 15th of Dek – 564 H.E.
In morning, Martin the Green climbed up to a tower and created an illusion of a large colorful bird circle the tower as widely as the spell would allow him.
Nearly a mile away Ratchis saw it.
“They have been pardoned,” Ratchis told Jana.
“Oh? Good,” she replied.
By mid-day, Beorth, Jeremy and Kazrack had been released and had their gear returned to them, and were marching with Martin up to the pass where they’d meet their other two companions.
“Hey, so what happened to the manticore’s body?” Jeremy asked.
“Daniel told me this morning that he is presenting it as a gift from us to the king to be stuffed and mounted in the royal trophy room.” Martin explained.
“So, we’re going to get credit for killing it?”
“I guess so.”
Kazrack stumbled along. He now had boils on his face, and the blisters in his mouth were bursting, causing him to spit out yellow puss that dribbled down his beard, and smelled of rotted meat. His mind felt even cloudier.
“What happened to him?” Ratchis asked.
“He is very sick,” Beorth replied. “The curse of Osiris is upon him for not seeking out to accomplish his task.”
“Hopefully, now that we are going to see the Circle of the Thorn directly, he will recover,” Martin said. “And how is your arm healing?”
“It seems to be healing well, though it still aches,” Kazrack responded, spitting more puss.
“Is the bone healing straight? There was a man in my village who got kicked in the head by a goat. Now he has a permanent dent in his head,” Martin reminisced.
“I hope the druids will be able to heal my arm. I may not be able to complete the task set for me in time otherwise,” Kazrack said.
“We also have another task before us now,” Martin added. “It was something I had to say we’d do in order to assure that you’d be freed, but it seems like it already lies within our sphere of interest.”
Martin explained to the others about the queen’s dalliance and the stolen diary and Rindalith.
Jana snorted.
“Remember, it is very important that we tell no one about the diary,” Martin said, looking at Jeremy in particular. “If we must say anything at all, we can just say we are looking for Rindalith.”
“But looking for him will have to wait until Kazrack and I have fulfilled our tasks for Osiris,” Ratchis said.
“Of course,” Martin said. “But on the way there we can keep our eyes open for evidence of his passing.”
“Of course,” Ratchis replied.
The ate some rations, re-packed their things and made ready to make the two day’s march to Archet. (122)
“Anubis, the path that Ptah has placed before is ling and fraught with danger, grant us your strength so that this can complete the journey,” Beorth said, laying his hand on Jeremy’s shoulder as they made ready to leave.
-------------
They marched across a gray and white landscape, avoiding contact with whomever they saw in the distance, moving generally westward, hoping to make the ridge that defined Greenreed Valley by evening in order to follow it south and westward to Archet.
However, the driving wind and occasional snow slowed their progress, and by evening they were forced to take shelter beneath some tightly-packed trees. Martin stayed up the vast majority of the night, not feeling sleepy because of his magic ring, but still feeling the fatigue of travel. He woke Jeremy for the last couple of hours of the night and got his required sleep, which was fitfull.
“The fight is over. Everyone drop your weapons!” Martin called, holding his hands out and open. He looked at Relaford who still pointed his crossbow at Ratchis.
A second guard stepped out of the mist hesitantly, and when he saw Relaford covering the half-orc his drew his long sword.
“So look, I have an idea,” Relaford began. “We just you leave, and we say you all escaped in the chaos of that thing’s attack. We could even say one of you was eaten by that thing and then everyone will think your are dead.”
Martin shook his head, “We are going to Twelve Trolls.”
“Lower your crossbows!” Ratchis barked. The other guard was startled, but Relaford held his gorund.
“Why do you have to make this difficult? We are giving you a chance to get away with no trouble and no more blood spilt,” Relaford said.
Martin looked over and suddenly noticed the blood staining the snow around and beneath Kazrack.
“Jana! Jana, where are you?” the Watch-mage called into the mist. “Kazrack is dying! You’re still here, Jana?”
The young witch came out of the mist.
Ratchis looked at Relaford, “I could heal the dwarf, but I am not going to move until you and your man put down your weapons. His death will be on your heads.”
“If we wanted to harm you we would have done it already,” Martin said. “We only want a chance to speak to the king and clear our names.”
“I’m going to lose my job,” Relaford said, lowering his crossbow. The other guard hesitated, but then sheathed his sword.
Ratchis lowered his own crossbow and walked over to where Jana was calmly binding Kazrack’s near-mortal wounds. He leaned over and called to his goddess to heal the dwarf, and in a moment Kazrack’s eyes were fluttering as he coughed.
“Whu… where’s Richard?” Kazrack coughed out.
“He got away again,” Ratchis replied.
“Damn!” the dwarf groaned. “We need to bring him to the king to clear us.”
“Well, you don’t have this Richard guy, whoever he is,” Relaford said. “So you might as well go on your way and we’ll do our best to cover up the whole thing.”
“No, we’re going to Twelve Trolls,” Kazrack said, sitting up.
“Yeah, so we have to…” Relaford’s voice trailed off.
The guards helped the party lift the manticore’s corpse onto the wagon. It seemed to smoke occasionally, and smelled to Kazrack like molten copper.
“I’m glad you showed up,” the dwarf said to Ratchis as they wiped their hands clean of the beast’s ichor in the snow.
“I wish I could have gotten here sooner,” the half-orc replied.
“You got here when we needed you, that’s all that matters,” Kazrack gave Ratchis an awkward pat on the shoulder.
“I won’t be going back to Twelve Trolls,” Ratchis said. “No matter what they will be wanting to arrest me.”
“You are probably right,” the dwarf concurred.
“I won’t be going back either,” Jana said, overhearing as she walked over. “Even without Rindalith around they may decide to hold me until they get things straightened out, and we don’t have time for that.”
“If that is how it has to be,” Kazrack said. “But I was thinking we should tell the king the whole thing; the whole truth.”
“I do not trust the king,” Ratchis said.
“Not do I,” said Martin walking over. “But on the matter of Jana, I fear that you will be a fugitive if you do not hand yourself over with the rest of us.”
”I am not exactly unused to dealing with the law,” Jana said, and walked over to check on Beorth and Jeremy’s bandages, as they had been moved onto the wagon. Kazrack gave her a sideways glance.
“Why couldn’t the manticore have killed and eater her?” Ratchis said with a sigh.
“We could say that it did,” Relaford suggested.
Kazrack, Martin and Ratchis looked at the guard, and slowly nodded.
“That is not a bad idea,” Ratchis said.
It was agreed that this was the story that would be told. Ratchis would not be mentioned and that Jana was eaten by the manticore. Ratchis would take Jana with him and they would wait along the route to Twelve Trolls and then follow the others to the pass overlooking the castle (120) and wait there for a sign from Martin that would tell Ratchis and Jana if the group had been pardoned. Ratchis and Jana would wait a maximum of three days and then move on to complete their tasks for Osiris if there were no word.
“Okay, I need to chain you to the back of the wagon,” Relaford said to Kazrack.
“How come? We have proved we have no intention to escape,” the dwarf replied, indignantly.
“Look, this is how you wanted to handle this, and for no one to get suspicious if we happen upon anyone or when we arrive at Earthport we need to handle things are normal as possible,” Relaford explained.
Kazrack acquiesced.
Ratchis and Jana moved off the path to the south and found a sheltered spot where they camped for the night, Ratchis casting endure elements on his companion.
The wagon continued on eastward to Earthport. The manticore corpse had a stench hanging onto it like a burning rotted carcass, and Relaford and his men walked along either side of the wagon wearily, clutching their wounds and wearing long faces. Martin also walked along side, as the front bench of the wagon was full by Jeremy and Beorth’s still unconscious forms were draped there.
It had already been dark for over an hour when they rolled into Earthport. Earthport was built on a large chunk of solid bedrock that was adjacent to a huge marsh that extended as far as the eye could see during daylight, but in the dark all they could hear was the muted sound of toads and insects. The town itself was made up of many small square buildings built very close together creating a labyrinth of narrow streets lined in places with hooded lanterns.
They were brought to the constable’s office of Earthport, and Kazrack, Jeremy and Beorth were put in separate cells, while Martin was given a blanket and a bench in the entry room.
Anulem, 14th of Dek – 564 H.E.
The next morning Claude Rhines the alderman of Earthport came by the constable office to see Martin the Green, while the local guards kept the ogling townsfolk away from the manticore corpse. A sickly cold rain fell over everything.
Rhines told Martin about how Earthport was still in danger from the orcs that fled the skirmishes of two years before and into the swamp that lay to the south of town. He went on to imply that Earthport might be just the place for a Watch-mage to settle down once he chose a permanent place to settle in Gothanius. He explained how there was already a woodsman, a follower of Osiris (but not a druid) who lived in the swamp and hunted the orcs down and helped the local people when he could. Martin asked if hew could speak with this man, named Seerin No-Road, but the alderman explained that he had not been seen in some time and that he kept to himself a lot.
Kazrack awoke feeling feverish. He could feel blisters on his tongue and all around the inside of his mouth, and his head felt foggy. He alternated between flushed and pale. The dwarf could barely remember a dream he had had in the night. He was within a circle of trees, hammering at a forge, and all around him he could see and feel glowing eyes watching him from the darkness between the trees. He could hear the whispered chattering of strange voices.
Kazrack moaned, feeling the weight of his need to accomplish his task for Osiris upon his heart. (121)
By mid-morning Kazrack was chained back to the wagon and they were being led out of town to the north. A few miles outside of town, Kazrack was unchained and allowed to use his divine spells to heal Beorth and Jeremy, both of whom were still unconscious from the wounds they had suffered in the battle with Rindalith and the manticore.
Jeremy was further from death, but he did not awaken. Beorth stirred.
“Martin, I don’t feel like talking much, can you bring Beorth up to date with what has happened?” Kazrack asked the watch-mage.
“Okay,” Martin agreed. “But what should we say to Beorth about Jana?”
“I don’t think we should hide anything from Beorth,” Kazrack said.
“Good, all these lies have me confused,” Martin said with a sigh.
After being healed and awakened, Beorth took some time to give thanks to Anubis and then laid his hands upon the Neegaardian’s chest and said, “Anubis, Guardian of the Dead, give me your strength to bring this man back from the borders of death.”
Soon, Jeremy was stirring, and before they knew it the both of them were being pulled along, chained to the back of the wagon.
“I have a question,” Jeremy asked, when he became more clear-headed. “Why are we chained? Did we get captured again?”
“Kazrack’s their willing prisoner, as am I,” replied Beorth.
“So Jana and Ratchis are gone?” Jeremy asked bewildered.
“Yes,” replied Beorth.
“They are really gone,” Jeremy said, his voice catching in his throat.
“They are still with us,” Beorth said.
“Huh? You mean in spirit?”
“No, they live still. They are following, and we will meet with them after our fate has been decided at the king’s court,” Beorth explained.
“Oh, good…uh, I guess.”
------
“I’m cold,” Thomas whispered in Martin’s mind as they crossed over the pass down into the awesome chasm Gothanius Castle was an island in.
“Don’t worry, we are almost there,” Martin reassured his familiar, stroking his head. “Here have some dried apricots… oh wait, never mind.”
“Ya know, I want to want them, but I really don’t want them anymore.”
“I know… don’t worry. I’ll teach you some more reading tonight. I’ll even teach you how to read the word ‘nut’. You’ll like that,” Martin suggested.
“I used to dream about nuts,” Thomas replied. “But now I hardly sleep, and when I do I don’t dream about them anymore.”
---------
They came through the castle gates a little more than two hours later. Jeremy, Beorth and Kazrack were cold and exhausted. In the west, the sun was beginning to set and the wind was howling in the canyons north of Gothanius.
“I will need to speak with the king immediately,” Martin the Green told the lieutenant of the wall-guard that was on duty.
“I will need to alert the captain of the guard, and the castle steward, sir,” the guard said. “But in the meantime please wait in the guardhouse, while I see that the prisoners are brought to cells. I will also have to take a report from Relaford of the Ogre’s Bluff guard.”
Relaford shot Martin a worried looked.
“Please wait patiently,” the guard told Martin and then gestured for one of his men to show the watch-mage to where he should wait. Martin looked back at Relaford and tried to nod reassuringly.
“There is also the matter of the manticore’s corpse we brought with us,” Martin said.
“It will be stored somewhere safe so that those that have more authority than I can determine whatever it is they might need to determine about it upon examination,” the guard said, sounding annoyed and dismissive.
Martin waited over two hours before Daniel the Castle Steward came for him.
“Martin, I am sorry that you had to wait so long, but I needed to take care of some things that your unexpected arrival might precipitated,” the round-faced young courtier said, putting out his hand to shake Martin’s. “Come with me, I will bring you to your former quarters. I have arranged for a meal and fresh bedclothes to be brought there. I am sure you are hungry and tired, but we have much to talk about, especially in regards to the story we got from the guards from Ogre’s Bluff.”
Soon, Martin was relaxing in an over-stuffed chair in a nightshirt and a woolen robe, before a roaring fireplace. Before him was a tray full of strings of roast pork smothered in gravy on a bed of the days bread crusts and a bowl of steaming broth, and a foaming mug of ale.
Jeremy, Kazrack and Beorth were sleeping on moisten dirt floors that smelled of urine, after they had been given a foul white gruel filled with unidentifiable gray chunks for dinner.
Jana and Ratchis were sitting beside a small fire set under an over hang of rock, and within a little nook to shield it from being seen from the castle towers, waiting for word in the morning.
“So, it seems that a lot has happened since we saw you last,” Daniel started. “I feared that perhaps that you were dead since months passed with no word.”
“Yes, a lot has happened, but what has happened most recently is what is of most concern,” Martin said,
“You mean the arrest of your companions?” Daniel said.
“Yes.”
“Well, they are not the first to be arrested,” Daniel said, leaning back in his own chair. “Two other groups of would-be ‘dragon-hunters’ have been imprisoned for taking to waylaying travelers.”
“I assure you that my companions have not been waylaying anyone,” Martin said, sternly.
“Oh, I am sure of that as well,” Daniel said with a smile. “Relaford told us that it all began with the arrest and then escape of the girl named ‘Jana’. It seems that she was eaten by the manticore?”
“No, she was not,” said Martin with a sigh. “Unfortunately, she did not trust that she would get fair treatment by the authorities and that she would be imprisoned until everything was straightened out, or at worse that she might be handed over to the false representative of the Kingdom of Herman Land.”
“Well, we have no record in the court of any representative or bounty-hunter from the Kingdom of Herman Land being with our borders, and if there it he is here without the leave of the Crown. And since neither he nor she is here to state the case and I am the one who would arrange the audience with the King, I have the authority to declare it a null matter. She is free to travel in Gothanius, but is still subject to the laws and regulations of our kingdom as any visitor or traveler is. I will be sending word to the authorities in the different alder-villages not to cooperate with this man, and to hold him for questioning if he does turn up.”
“Make sure the yare warned that he is a very powerful warlock and can assume the shape of different animals, perhaps different people,” Martin added.
“Duly noted,” Daniel replied.
“And my other companions?”
“Well, the other three will be released,” Daniel said. “If Jana of Westron is not to be detained, the charges against them can easily be made to disappear.”
“You don’t know how much I appreciate your quick handling of this entire unfortunate situation,” Martin said, gratefully.
“Have you gathered any news of the dragon?” Daniel asked, looking down at the plate of food that Martin had not yet touched.
“We have heard some rumors and some seen some signs of something, but it might have only been the manticore that we slew and returned here with,” Martin said.
“Have you fought many such fearsome creatures with our borders?” Daniel’s eyebrows raised up in concern.
“No. No, we have not,” Martin said, moving the meat and gravy around in his plate with a piece of bread. “But we have discovered evidence that scores of these creatures called quaggoths have enter the caves beneath Ogre’s Bluff and might be an advance force for an invasion of the dark elves of the Plutonic Realms.”
“Dark elves?” Daniel laughed, and sat up straight. “But there is no such thing!”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Ortun, but I am afraid to tell you that they are very real and pose a very real danger to the Kingdom of Gothanius, if not the entirely of Derome-Delem.”
“How soon can such an invasion be expected,” Daniel was growing alarmed.
”That is the good news,” Martin said, smiling. “It will likely be many, many years before such an attack were to come to the surface.”
Daniel let out a long low breath.
“There is also the matter of Ratchis,” Martin added quickly.
“Ah, you mean the half-breed woodsman that assaulted the guards in Ogre’s Bluff during his escape?” Daniel asked.
“Well, he did no permanent harm to anyone, and he was being wrongfully imprisoned,” Martin said, meekly.
“Yes, well…,” Daniel cleared his throat. “There is little I can do about him. Even if I send word that he is to be cleared of all charges, his ancestry is not one that is appreciated in Gothanius, and I cannot promise that some group of locals might not take the law into their own hands. While I can assure there will be no official inquiry into his actions, his fate is in his own hands if he returns to areas that have heard of his exploits.”
“I guess that is better than can be hoped for,” Martin sighed.
“Now, you must understand that all of this aid I am giving you must remain between us,” Daniel said, lowering his voice. “It will take quite a bit of string pulling just to get your friends released and get the proper papers filed and messages sent. The king need not be bothered with this matter, all that matters to him is that you do your job for the benefit of Gothanius, and that you have companions you are comfortable with to accomplish this task.”
Martin nodded.
“However, as you will recall I had sent word to you about a specific task that needed to be accomplished by you and your companions for the sake of the kingdom,” Daniel said. “At that time I was willing to use my influence to get your friends free of the contact they signed, however, since it took all of my influence to get them freed, we will have to assume that that is what I am giving you in return for doing what I am about to tell you.”
Daniel paused, and Martin looked at him puzzled.
“There was a reason why I wanted to meet you away from the castle, but now this cannot be avoided,” Daniel said, lowering his voice. “The king cannot find out about what I am going to tell you, nor can the populace at large for the good of the stability of the kingdom.”
“What is it?” Martin asked.
“It seems that a dark warlock was able to steal a diary belonging to the Queen,” Daniel said, lowering his voice to a near whisper. “Unfortunately, this diary details a dalliance that must not become common knowledge no matter what it takes. Not only can the king not find out about this, but his very fitness to rule could come into question if certain ambitious nobles were to gain this information. You must discretely re-gain the diary and return it for me to return to the Queen. And no one, not even you, may look at its contents. If it becomes necessary that you need to look in it to confirm what it is, then I prefer it be you and no one else, but even that should not be necessary. It should be obvious what it is when you see it.”
“A dark warlock?” Martin asked, with an edge of suspicion in his voice.
“Yes, our sources say that his is named Rindalith, and has been seen meeting with what appear to be monks of Anubis in both Earthport and Summit,” Daniel said.
“Why, that is the same man who was after Jana!” Martin exclaimed.
“I figured as much, thus my willingness to believe your story about his inauthenticity.” Daniel said.
“So, what now?” Martin asked.
“Your companions will be freed in the morning and then you will be allowed to return to the alder-villages seeking this warlock and the diary and doing whatever else you have to do in terms of the hunt for the dragon and any investigating on this dark elf situation you need to do,” Daniel said. “However, I would like for you to write down everything you know about Rindalith and anything else you have discovered since you were last here and turn it in to me before you leave.”
“Very well, I will do my best,” Martin replied.
Daniel stood and put out his hand. “I want you to know that your efforts for the Kingdom of Gothanius are very much appreciated, and I wish you the best in your endeavors.”
“Thank you, and thank you for all your help, Mr. Ortun,” Martin said, shaking his hand as firmly as he could.
“Please, in private you may call me ‘Daniel’,” the steward said.
Martin thanked him again, and then Daniel left.
The watch-mage spent the night writing the requested record.
Ralem, 15th of Dek – 564 H.E.
In morning, Martin the Green climbed up to a tower and created an illusion of a large colorful bird circle the tower as widely as the spell would allow him.
Nearly a mile away Ratchis saw it.
“They have been pardoned,” Ratchis told Jana.
“Oh? Good,” she replied.
By mid-day, Beorth, Jeremy and Kazrack had been released and had their gear returned to them, and were marching with Martin up to the pass where they’d meet their other two companions.
“Hey, so what happened to the manticore’s body?” Jeremy asked.
“Daniel told me this morning that he is presenting it as a gift from us to the king to be stuffed and mounted in the royal trophy room.” Martin explained.
“So, we’re going to get credit for killing it?”
“I guess so.”
Kazrack stumbled along. He now had boils on his face, and the blisters in his mouth were bursting, causing him to spit out yellow puss that dribbled down his beard, and smelled of rotted meat. His mind felt even cloudier.
“What happened to him?” Ratchis asked.
“He is very sick,” Beorth replied. “The curse of Osiris is upon him for not seeking out to accomplish his task.”
“Hopefully, now that we are going to see the Circle of the Thorn directly, he will recover,” Martin said. “And how is your arm healing?”
“It seems to be healing well, though it still aches,” Kazrack responded, spitting more puss.
“Is the bone healing straight? There was a man in my village who got kicked in the head by a goat. Now he has a permanent dent in his head,” Martin reminisced.
“I hope the druids will be able to heal my arm. I may not be able to complete the task set for me in time otherwise,” Kazrack said.
“We also have another task before us now,” Martin added. “It was something I had to say we’d do in order to assure that you’d be freed, but it seems like it already lies within our sphere of interest.”
Martin explained to the others about the queen’s dalliance and the stolen diary and Rindalith.
Jana snorted.
“Remember, it is very important that we tell no one about the diary,” Martin said, looking at Jeremy in particular. “If we must say anything at all, we can just say we are looking for Rindalith.”
“But looking for him will have to wait until Kazrack and I have fulfilled our tasks for Osiris,” Ratchis said.
“Of course,” Martin said. “But on the way there we can keep our eyes open for evidence of his passing.”
“Of course,” Ratchis replied.
The ate some rations, re-packed their things and made ready to make the two day’s march to Archet. (122)
“Anubis, the path that Ptah has placed before is ling and fraught with danger, grant us your strength so that this can complete the journey,” Beorth said, laying his hand on Jeremy’s shoulder as they made ready to leave.
-------------
They marched across a gray and white landscape, avoiding contact with whomever they saw in the distance, moving generally westward, hoping to make the ridge that defined Greenreed Valley by evening in order to follow it south and westward to Archet.
However, the driving wind and occasional snow slowed their progress, and by evening they were forced to take shelter beneath some tightly-packed trees. Martin stayed up the vast majority of the night, not feeling sleepy because of his magic ring, but still feeling the fatigue of travel. He woke Jeremy for the last couple of hours of the night and got his required sleep, which was fitfull.
el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
Osilem, 16th of Dek – 564 H.E.
With morning only a gray light came, as a constant slush seemed to move nearly horizontally through the sky. Ratchis discovered that they had been moving too far southward and were not far from the Ogre Scar, so he redirected them north and westward.
Kazrack was feeling a great deal better, but still felt a bit weak and foggy. He hoped that as he made progress towards his goal, he would recover even more.
By late afternoon the sleet had dissipated, and in the distance they could see the ridge. Atop it they saw the fires of the cottages of Summit. They were less than an hour’s march to it. It was decided to stop in Summit and pick up the splint mail armor Beorth had paid for already.
Martin was sent alone to climb the ridge and enter town, in case word of their pardon had not reached Summit yet, which probably had not. He waved to the others and made the ascent while they waited in a nearby copse of trees below.
Martin made his way straight to Maxel’s smithy, and the smith/constable was surprised to see him.
“There’s been bad word going `round about your companions,” Maxell said, sounding concerned.
“We have just returned from the capitol where it was all cleared up. Word of it should come to the alderman in a few days, in the meantime they wait on the edge of town,” Martin explained.
“Good to hear,” Maxel said with a smile. “There has been so much bad news of late that some good news is welcome.”
“Bad news?”
“More people missing,” Maxell said, his grin melting into a frown. “Most recently it was twin girls only thirteen years old, and one of your dragon-hunting friends, um… Gwar.”
“Oh.” Martin was surprised.
Martin gave Maxel the second half of the payment for the armor, and took the bundle with the helmet on top and said goodbye to the smith.
“I may be away for a few weeks again, but my companions and I will return,” he said.
Outside, Martin ran into Finn, Carlos and Frank.
“Hey, Martin!” Finn waved. Carlos tried to shake Martin’s hand which caused the mage to drop the armor. Carlos picked it up for him, “Perdona me.” Martin explained what he was doing there and where he was going and Finn and Carlos insisted on escorting him back.
“I’m going to give the perimeter of the town another turn,” Frank said. It was the first words he had spoken “He might have made his way close to town and be too hurt to come the rest of the way.”
“Sure, Frank,’ Finn said, trying to sound reassuring. “Just be careful, go get Josef and bring him with you.”
“Yeah, okay,” Frank said softly and walked off.
“I take it he is not taking his brother’s disappearance very well,” Martin offered.
“Who would?” Finn shrugged his shoulders.
Carlos carried the armor down the ridge for Martin, and soon they were all together.
“Glad to see you guys are all right,” Finn said, joining the others round the small fire they had burning to ward of the cold. “We heard rumors of a wild half-orc attacking guards in Ogre’s Bluff and we feared there might some confusion…”
“Oh, there was no confusion,” Ratchis said, wryly.
Finn looked puzzled.
Martin mentioned Gwar’s disappearance.
“How long has he been missing?” Ratchis asked.
“This makes two days,” replied Finn.
“Si, dos dias. Two days,” said Carlos, looking sad and holding tow fingers up.
“We were doing one of our patrols that we do to keep busy and make it look like we’re hunting the dragon, and looking into the disappearances,” Finn said.
“Digale de los cabezas de perro feo,” Carlos said, nudging Finn.
“Huh? Oh! Gnolls. We ran into gnolls. Three of them. We killed them though,” Finn half-smiled and half-frowned, as if he were proud of himself, but still did not relish the memory of it.
“You think the gnolls got to him?” Ratchis asked.
“That’s what Josef says,” said Finn. “But I’m not so sure. There would have been a sign of struggle or blood or something, but there was none of that. It was as if he walked away and did not come back. If it weren’t for the fact that he left his girl here in town I would have said he eloped.”
“So, he disappeared from town?” Martin asked.
“No, while we were out on patrol. Sorry, I got side-tracked. There is a hill that sticks up like a big toe just north west of town on the ridge. We go up there and do what we call ‘compass points’ and each take a spot on the north, east, west, and south side of the hill, with one of us on top to act as called between the four. We do this to get a good clear look around. It’s like a crow’s nest, but better. I found the place, but it was Frank that found the best trail up there. Anyway, two afternoons ago, we were doing ‘compass points’ and Gwar had the eastern one, but he never called or came to the meeting spot. We went looking for him, but he was gone. At first we thought he might have gone to the temple of Bast…”
“There is a temple of Bast?” Martin asked.
“Uh? Oh yeah, just north of town,” Finn said.
“Do you think you could mark its location on my map?” Martin asked.
“Yeah, sure. I can try,” replied Finn. “There is only one priest there, though, and he is not all that reliable.”
“Are you saying he’s senile?” Martin asked.
“No, he’s a young guy like us, and he’s a real priest. He can heal you any everything, but he seems kind of, I don’t know, flaky.”
“Priests of Bast are like cats. They’re like… well, like cats,” Martin said, by way of explanation.
“You mean they lick themselves?” Jeremy asked with a grin.
Martin frowned
Ratchis cleared his throat.
“Oh, yeah, anyway, Gwar,” Finn said. “He wasn’t at the temple. He wasn’t anywhere. Frank is really upset about it, and so is Cynthia; that’s Gwar’s girl. We’ve been searching for him almost two days straight. The rest of us have gotten some sleep, but I don’t think Frank has slept at all.”
“You should be very careful, gnolls are crafty opponents,” Ratchis warned. “I take it you have been practicing your martial skills?”
“It’s more important than ever,” Finn replied.
“Si, es muy importante. Siempre estoy deciendo que debemos practicar mas,” Carlos said eagerly. Ratchis furrowed his brow.
Finn shrugged his shoulders.
“Practice more,” Carlos said through a thick accent, trying to translate what he had just said.
“Well, no time like the present,” Ratchis said, standing. “Come on, Finn. Show me what you got.”
Finn was taken aback. “I’m not sure I want to fight you.”
“Come on, it will be just like the boat,” Kazrack said encouragingly.
Ratchis sparred a bit with Finn and then with Carlos, and saw that both of their fighting skill had improved greatly, especially the latter – However, it was still no challenge for the half-orc’s own skill.
Carlos and Finn sat down with the group to have a small bite before they continued en route to Archet.
“I just wanted to let you know that we still plan to pay you back that money you spent to free us from the bounty-hunter,” Finn said. (123)
“The best payment to me would be for you to simply pass on the help to others whenever you can,” Kazrack said.
“Oh, we do that too, but a debt is a debt and I don’t welsh on debts,” Finn said. “You will get paid.”
“You can pay us by supplying us with information,” Jeremy suggested. “There is a lot going on in these parts and you guys can act as a n extra set of eyes and ears for us.”
“Sure thing, but you will still get your money,” Finn insisted. Carlos nodded.
After bidding their former travel companions good-bye (and Martin making sure that Finn marked the temple of Bast on his map of the area), the party continued their journey towards Archet. Beorth packed away his old scale mail armor and donned his new splint mail. It felt heavier than he was used to and did not seem as well adjusted for a long march as his former armor had, but then again he knew the ins and outs of scale mail, but splint was foreign to him. (124) He wore his large shield on his back until he needed it, preferring to walk with his quarterstaff in hand.
Ratchis led Beorth, Jeremy, Kazrack, Martin and Jana on another two of marching through deep snow and through tightly packed trees along the south edge of the ridge westward to where they were told Archet could be found.
There was some confusion, but eventually Ratchis found signs of game trails and frequent tracks, and was able to lead the part to a small clearing where a large log lean-to was standing.
The lean-to had a very large brick hearth and several wooden benches. There was a large pile of split wood beside the hearth. It smelled of ash, pipe-smoke and ale, but no one was inside.
“Is this the right place?” Kazrack asked.
“The elves said it was just a small trading post,” Ratchis said, pulling his hood up over his head to hide his heritage, remembering the rumors he had heard about the locals’ hatred of orcs.
“No one is here,” Beorth said, as they all walked in out of the wind. Ratchis began to chuck wood into the hearth.
“Thomas, do you smell anything bad?” Martin the Green asked his familiar. “Any bad creatures.”
“No, but… augh!!! I smell squirrels! Dead squirrels!”
Martin stroked Thomas head reassuringly.
“I guess we’ll spend the night here and see if anyone shows up to ask directions to the druids’ place,” Ratchis said.
“Lookin’ fer druids, eh?” said a scratchy voice from the darkness of nearby trees. An old grizzled man, with skin like leather and a white shadow of a beard. He looked the party over with blood-shoot blue eyes as he came towards the lean-to. “None of them `round here.”
“Excuse me, sir. We are looking for Archet,” Kazrack said, stepping towards the old man. Ratchis got the fire going and then sat on the floor leaning on the wall. He pulled his hood further down over his face.
“Well, lookee that! Is that one them there stone folk?” the man asked pointing at Kazrack. “Don’t see them much if ever `round here, but this here is Archet. You are in it, so to speak.”
“This is Archet?” Jeremy asked, incredulously.
“Sure it is,” the old man replied. “Just a place for the local trappers and hunters to meet and trade their goods. They call me ‘Toothless Jabnit’ `cause I ain’t got no teeth… Well, I have one left.” He opened his mouth and leaned forward. “See? It’s all the way in the back. It’s all black and stuff.”
Jeremy recoiled as a stench as foul as death wafted from the old man’s mouth.
“What can I call you?’ Kazrack asked.
“Call me what ya like, just don’t call me late for dinner!” The old man burst into a laugh like a hacking cough. “Oh, I kill myself!” He slapped his knee, and walked over and dropped his huge pack on one of the benches and sat down.
“I am Kazrack Delver,” Kazrack said. He then gestured to each of the others in turn. “This is Jeremy, Beorth, Jana, Martin the Green and that lump over there is Ratchis.”
“He’s a big lump!” Jabnit exclaimed. “He’s almost as big as Big Larry!”
He turned and looked at Jana. “And that’s a fine piece of maiden flesh ya carrying around,” Jabnit waggled his eyebrows at her and she sneered.
“I’d be careful, Jabnit,” Martin said, stepping between then. “You don’t want to know what she did to the last man who… you know…”
“Oh, wunna dem, huh?” The man pulled some slated meat from a sack and began to gum on it. “So, whatcha folks lookin’ for around here.”
Kazrack explained that they were looking for the Circle of the Thorn and a wood called “Dybbuk Akvram”.
“Don’t know anything about that, but Siram prolly does,” Jabnit said. “He’s as close to an alderman as we get in these parts.”
“Where can we find this man?” Kazrack asked.
“He don’t live far. I can show ya,” Jabnit stood and walked over to the open side of the structure and pointed. “Ya see that tree? Over there. Just call out for him.”
As the party walked over to where the old man had pointed, Jeremy hung behind and slipped a silver coin into his hand. Jabnit stuck it into his mouth and tested its authenticity against his sole tooth.
They came to the tree and looked around, but could see no sign of a dwelling in or around it. Above them the canopy of fir was so thick that in most places the sky was obscured.
“There! I see some kind of opening up in to the tree, but it is too high to reach,” said Ratchis.
“Siram of Archet! I am Martin the Green, watch-mage. I beg your leave to speak with you.”
I voice called down from above, “What do you want?”
“We were told you could help us. We seek the druids of the Wood of the Blood Sap.” Martin replied.
“Oh, you mean the Circle of Thorns! Well, I guess you can come on up, but no more than three of you!” The voice said.
A rope-ladder came tumbling down out of the brush above. Martin, Beorth and Jeremy made their way up. They came through the snow covered brush and up through an opening in a wooden platform which created a kind of porch to a large hidden treehouse. There were two large coils of hemp rope up here, and a perch with a hooded hawk upon it. There was also a large barrel and drain fashioned from wood to allow melting snow to drip right into it.
A man appeared in the doorway to the treehouse. He was not very tall, but had an air of strength to him, the graying ends of his hair belying the youth in his sparkling green eyes. He wore a long sword at his side, and held a bow in his hands, but no arrow strung in it.
“So what are you looking for the Circle of Thorns for?” Siram asked, looking over his three guests very closely.
“We have been entrusted with tasks for Osiris, and it is there that two of these tasks can be accomplished,” Beorth replied.
“Heh,” Siram said, and stepped back into the house. “Come in.” The hawk on the perch ruffled its feathers.
Beorth, Martin and Jeremy followed him in. The interior of the treehouse looked very comfortable, with furs on the floor, and wooden fur-covered chairs. One wall had several different long and short bows on display, while over a iron pot-bellied stove were over a dozen pipes of different designs on pegs.
“Well, I wouldn’t recommend you go there,” pointing out two chairs they could use. Jeremy sat on the floor. “No one that goes there ever comes back out.”
“How come?” Jeremy asked.
“It is an immense wood surrounded by a wall of razor-sharp thorns,” Siram explained. “Hunters know to avoid the place as there is no way in there, unless you happen upon one of the mysterious openings that just appears sometime. But those who have gone in to explore or chase prey have never returned. Not a single word, ever.”
“It does not matter,” Beorth said. “We have to go there, regardless.”
“I had a feeling you’d say that,” Siram smirked. He stood and walked over to the wall of pipes and took down three. “All you need do is go due west until you hit the stream, and then follow it north. On the other side you’ll see a tall ridge with a wood on top. Make your way up there and you’ll be on the edge of the Food of the Blood Sap. If you had a map I could show you more clearly.”
Siram walked over to a table and packed the pipes, and passed them out, while he took a offered by Martin.
He took a few moments looking over the map.
“What is this stuff?” Martin asked.
“It’s a local herb. It helps to clear the mind,” Siram replied without looking up. Jeremy and Martin tried a bit, but Beorth politely refused.
“Hmmm, the Ampitheatre, what’s that?” He pointed to a spot on the map in the northwest corner of Greenreed Valley.
“We don’t know. We’ve never been there. Haven’t you?” Martin said.
“I avoid Greenreed Valley ever since that misty area rose up a few months ago at the start of winter,” Siram said. He looked back at the map. “This place, Westhold, it was wiped out by gnolls eight months ago. There ain’t nothing there anymore, but ruins and ashes.”
“How’d you get this map?”
“I made it from maps I was allowed to study at Aze-Nuquerna,” Martin said.
“You mean the elf place?”
“Yes.”
“Didn’t know they let humans in there,” Siram said, still not looking up from the map. “Some of the woodsmen around here trade with them, but it always takes place on the steps. No one goes in.”
“We helped them out of a jam,” Jeremy said. This made Siram look up and eyes the three of them up and down again.
“You guys a group of them dragon-hunters?” he asked.
“Yes, but I work for the king,” Martin said.
“We had a group of them dragon-hunters pass through here not too long ago and piss off some of the locals,” Siram said. “They were led by a guy that looks a lot like you.” He pointed at Jeremy.
Jeremy looked down.
“There was a big fight. It was a mess. They were finally driven away. Some folks wanted be to organize a party to track `em down and kill them all, but organizing folks against orcs or gnolls is one thing, but human business is human business. I’m happy to mediate some disputes, but fights is another thing. Plus, they had one them northern wildmen with them. He was impaled clear through by a spear and still managed to kill six men. What am I going to do?”
“You’re lucky he stopped at six!” Jeremy said.
“You know them?”
“We had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting them once or twice,” said Martin. “They seem like an unsavory lot.”
“Well, if you see them again, make sure you tell them not to come back here again.” He handed the map to Martin and gestured for the watch-mage to hold it open, and pointed to the top left corner. “That is what you are looking for.” He pointed south of there. “You can find wild ponies in this area, but be careful. I heard word of an owlbear hunting in them parts.”
There was a pause as they all puffed on their pipes.
“Do you have much contact with Ogre’s Bluff?” Martin asked.
“As little as we can get away with,” Siram replied. “We are not an official alder-village, and thus we avoid a lot interference by the king and the aldermen, but that also means we are on our own most of the time, but we like it that way. It was bad enough we had to deal with them during the orc skirmishes. Delagon, the constable is a real son of a b*tch. He gives everyone a hard time, like he’s the only one who had his wife and children killed by orcs. That’s happened to half the people around here.”
“Well, thank you very much for your help,” Martin said after he had put away the map. He handed the pipe back to Siram after taking one last long puff. He really liked the taste of that stuff, since the ring’s power had kicked in this was the first time he had tasted something and enjoyed it.
Beorth and Jeremy stood as well.
“Well, if you are going to the Circle I don’t expect to ever see you again,” Siram shook their hands. “Good luck. And if you ever need arrow or the like, I am pretty good bowyer and fletcher, and make extra money that way.
They bid Siram good evening and climbed back down the rope ladder.
“I thought this task was supposed to be the easy one,” Jeremy said, as they came to the bottom.
“This is the easy one,” Beorth replied. “We will be welcomed. Our grandfather, Osiris, will watch over us.
“I hope so,” Jeremy mumbled.
The party decided to spend the night in the lean-to where there was shelter. There Martin and Beorth retold all Siram had told them. In the morning, for better or worse, they’d make their way to the Circle of the Thorn.
End of Session #29
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Notes:
(120) The party rested here their first night outside of Gothanius castle, way back in session #14
(121) Kazrack was suffering the consequences for a special type of Geas. He was suffering a –2 penalty on each ability score for each day he did not make progress towards his goal.
(122) Archet is the name of the place Ethiel of Aze-Nuquerna told then they could find directions to the Forest of the Blood Sap.
(123) The party rescued Finn and the others from the bounty-hunter in session #19.
(124) DM’s Note: Beorth has the feat Armor Focus in scale mail, but cannot benefit from the feat in any other kind of armor.
With morning only a gray light came, as a constant slush seemed to move nearly horizontally through the sky. Ratchis discovered that they had been moving too far southward and were not far from the Ogre Scar, so he redirected them north and westward.
Kazrack was feeling a great deal better, but still felt a bit weak and foggy. He hoped that as he made progress towards his goal, he would recover even more.
By late afternoon the sleet had dissipated, and in the distance they could see the ridge. Atop it they saw the fires of the cottages of Summit. They were less than an hour’s march to it. It was decided to stop in Summit and pick up the splint mail armor Beorth had paid for already.
Martin was sent alone to climb the ridge and enter town, in case word of their pardon had not reached Summit yet, which probably had not. He waved to the others and made the ascent while they waited in a nearby copse of trees below.
Martin made his way straight to Maxel’s smithy, and the smith/constable was surprised to see him.
“There’s been bad word going `round about your companions,” Maxell said, sounding concerned.
“We have just returned from the capitol where it was all cleared up. Word of it should come to the alderman in a few days, in the meantime they wait on the edge of town,” Martin explained.
“Good to hear,” Maxel said with a smile. “There has been so much bad news of late that some good news is welcome.”
“Bad news?”
“More people missing,” Maxell said, his grin melting into a frown. “Most recently it was twin girls only thirteen years old, and one of your dragon-hunting friends, um… Gwar.”
“Oh.” Martin was surprised.
Martin gave Maxel the second half of the payment for the armor, and took the bundle with the helmet on top and said goodbye to the smith.
“I may be away for a few weeks again, but my companions and I will return,” he said.
Outside, Martin ran into Finn, Carlos and Frank.
“Hey, Martin!” Finn waved. Carlos tried to shake Martin’s hand which caused the mage to drop the armor. Carlos picked it up for him, “Perdona me.” Martin explained what he was doing there and where he was going and Finn and Carlos insisted on escorting him back.
“I’m going to give the perimeter of the town another turn,” Frank said. It was the first words he had spoken “He might have made his way close to town and be too hurt to come the rest of the way.”
“Sure, Frank,’ Finn said, trying to sound reassuring. “Just be careful, go get Josef and bring him with you.”
“Yeah, okay,” Frank said softly and walked off.
“I take it he is not taking his brother’s disappearance very well,” Martin offered.
“Who would?” Finn shrugged his shoulders.
Carlos carried the armor down the ridge for Martin, and soon they were all together.
“Glad to see you guys are all right,” Finn said, joining the others round the small fire they had burning to ward of the cold. “We heard rumors of a wild half-orc attacking guards in Ogre’s Bluff and we feared there might some confusion…”
“Oh, there was no confusion,” Ratchis said, wryly.
Finn looked puzzled.
Martin mentioned Gwar’s disappearance.
“How long has he been missing?” Ratchis asked.
“This makes two days,” replied Finn.
“Si, dos dias. Two days,” said Carlos, looking sad and holding tow fingers up.
“We were doing one of our patrols that we do to keep busy and make it look like we’re hunting the dragon, and looking into the disappearances,” Finn said.
“Digale de los cabezas de perro feo,” Carlos said, nudging Finn.
“Huh? Oh! Gnolls. We ran into gnolls. Three of them. We killed them though,” Finn half-smiled and half-frowned, as if he were proud of himself, but still did not relish the memory of it.
“You think the gnolls got to him?” Ratchis asked.
“That’s what Josef says,” said Finn. “But I’m not so sure. There would have been a sign of struggle or blood or something, but there was none of that. It was as if he walked away and did not come back. If it weren’t for the fact that he left his girl here in town I would have said he eloped.”
“So, he disappeared from town?” Martin asked.
“No, while we were out on patrol. Sorry, I got side-tracked. There is a hill that sticks up like a big toe just north west of town on the ridge. We go up there and do what we call ‘compass points’ and each take a spot on the north, east, west, and south side of the hill, with one of us on top to act as called between the four. We do this to get a good clear look around. It’s like a crow’s nest, but better. I found the place, but it was Frank that found the best trail up there. Anyway, two afternoons ago, we were doing ‘compass points’ and Gwar had the eastern one, but he never called or came to the meeting spot. We went looking for him, but he was gone. At first we thought he might have gone to the temple of Bast…”
“There is a temple of Bast?” Martin asked.
“Uh? Oh yeah, just north of town,” Finn said.
“Do you think you could mark its location on my map?” Martin asked.
“Yeah, sure. I can try,” replied Finn. “There is only one priest there, though, and he is not all that reliable.”
“Are you saying he’s senile?” Martin asked.
“No, he’s a young guy like us, and he’s a real priest. He can heal you any everything, but he seems kind of, I don’t know, flaky.”
“Priests of Bast are like cats. They’re like… well, like cats,” Martin said, by way of explanation.
“You mean they lick themselves?” Jeremy asked with a grin.
Martin frowned
Ratchis cleared his throat.
“Oh, yeah, anyway, Gwar,” Finn said. “He wasn’t at the temple. He wasn’t anywhere. Frank is really upset about it, and so is Cynthia; that’s Gwar’s girl. We’ve been searching for him almost two days straight. The rest of us have gotten some sleep, but I don’t think Frank has slept at all.”
“You should be very careful, gnolls are crafty opponents,” Ratchis warned. “I take it you have been practicing your martial skills?”
“It’s more important than ever,” Finn replied.
“Si, es muy importante. Siempre estoy deciendo que debemos practicar mas,” Carlos said eagerly. Ratchis furrowed his brow.
Finn shrugged his shoulders.
“Practice more,” Carlos said through a thick accent, trying to translate what he had just said.
“Well, no time like the present,” Ratchis said, standing. “Come on, Finn. Show me what you got.”
Finn was taken aback. “I’m not sure I want to fight you.”
“Come on, it will be just like the boat,” Kazrack said encouragingly.
Ratchis sparred a bit with Finn and then with Carlos, and saw that both of their fighting skill had improved greatly, especially the latter – However, it was still no challenge for the half-orc’s own skill.
Carlos and Finn sat down with the group to have a small bite before they continued en route to Archet.
“I just wanted to let you know that we still plan to pay you back that money you spent to free us from the bounty-hunter,” Finn said. (123)
“The best payment to me would be for you to simply pass on the help to others whenever you can,” Kazrack said.
“Oh, we do that too, but a debt is a debt and I don’t welsh on debts,” Finn said. “You will get paid.”
“You can pay us by supplying us with information,” Jeremy suggested. “There is a lot going on in these parts and you guys can act as a n extra set of eyes and ears for us.”
“Sure thing, but you will still get your money,” Finn insisted. Carlos nodded.
After bidding their former travel companions good-bye (and Martin making sure that Finn marked the temple of Bast on his map of the area), the party continued their journey towards Archet. Beorth packed away his old scale mail armor and donned his new splint mail. It felt heavier than he was used to and did not seem as well adjusted for a long march as his former armor had, but then again he knew the ins and outs of scale mail, but splint was foreign to him. (124) He wore his large shield on his back until he needed it, preferring to walk with his quarterstaff in hand.
Ratchis led Beorth, Jeremy, Kazrack, Martin and Jana on another two of marching through deep snow and through tightly packed trees along the south edge of the ridge westward to where they were told Archet could be found.
There was some confusion, but eventually Ratchis found signs of game trails and frequent tracks, and was able to lead the part to a small clearing where a large log lean-to was standing.
The lean-to had a very large brick hearth and several wooden benches. There was a large pile of split wood beside the hearth. It smelled of ash, pipe-smoke and ale, but no one was inside.
“Is this the right place?” Kazrack asked.
“The elves said it was just a small trading post,” Ratchis said, pulling his hood up over his head to hide his heritage, remembering the rumors he had heard about the locals’ hatred of orcs.
“No one is here,” Beorth said, as they all walked in out of the wind. Ratchis began to chuck wood into the hearth.
“Thomas, do you smell anything bad?” Martin the Green asked his familiar. “Any bad creatures.”
“No, but… augh!!! I smell squirrels! Dead squirrels!”
Martin stroked Thomas head reassuringly.
“I guess we’ll spend the night here and see if anyone shows up to ask directions to the druids’ place,” Ratchis said.
“Lookin’ fer druids, eh?” said a scratchy voice from the darkness of nearby trees. An old grizzled man, with skin like leather and a white shadow of a beard. He looked the party over with blood-shoot blue eyes as he came towards the lean-to. “None of them `round here.”
“Excuse me, sir. We are looking for Archet,” Kazrack said, stepping towards the old man. Ratchis got the fire going and then sat on the floor leaning on the wall. He pulled his hood further down over his face.
“Well, lookee that! Is that one them there stone folk?” the man asked pointing at Kazrack. “Don’t see them much if ever `round here, but this here is Archet. You are in it, so to speak.”
“This is Archet?” Jeremy asked, incredulously.
“Sure it is,” the old man replied. “Just a place for the local trappers and hunters to meet and trade their goods. They call me ‘Toothless Jabnit’ `cause I ain’t got no teeth… Well, I have one left.” He opened his mouth and leaned forward. “See? It’s all the way in the back. It’s all black and stuff.”
Jeremy recoiled as a stench as foul as death wafted from the old man’s mouth.
“What can I call you?’ Kazrack asked.
“Call me what ya like, just don’t call me late for dinner!” The old man burst into a laugh like a hacking cough. “Oh, I kill myself!” He slapped his knee, and walked over and dropped his huge pack on one of the benches and sat down.
“I am Kazrack Delver,” Kazrack said. He then gestured to each of the others in turn. “This is Jeremy, Beorth, Jana, Martin the Green and that lump over there is Ratchis.”
“He’s a big lump!” Jabnit exclaimed. “He’s almost as big as Big Larry!”
He turned and looked at Jana. “And that’s a fine piece of maiden flesh ya carrying around,” Jabnit waggled his eyebrows at her and she sneered.
“I’d be careful, Jabnit,” Martin said, stepping between then. “You don’t want to know what she did to the last man who… you know…”
“Oh, wunna dem, huh?” The man pulled some slated meat from a sack and began to gum on it. “So, whatcha folks lookin’ for around here.”
Kazrack explained that they were looking for the Circle of the Thorn and a wood called “Dybbuk Akvram”.
“Don’t know anything about that, but Siram prolly does,” Jabnit said. “He’s as close to an alderman as we get in these parts.”
“Where can we find this man?” Kazrack asked.
“He don’t live far. I can show ya,” Jabnit stood and walked over to the open side of the structure and pointed. “Ya see that tree? Over there. Just call out for him.”
As the party walked over to where the old man had pointed, Jeremy hung behind and slipped a silver coin into his hand. Jabnit stuck it into his mouth and tested its authenticity against his sole tooth.
They came to the tree and looked around, but could see no sign of a dwelling in or around it. Above them the canopy of fir was so thick that in most places the sky was obscured.
“There! I see some kind of opening up in to the tree, but it is too high to reach,” said Ratchis.
“Siram of Archet! I am Martin the Green, watch-mage. I beg your leave to speak with you.”
I voice called down from above, “What do you want?”
“We were told you could help us. We seek the druids of the Wood of the Blood Sap.” Martin replied.
“Oh, you mean the Circle of Thorns! Well, I guess you can come on up, but no more than three of you!” The voice said.
A rope-ladder came tumbling down out of the brush above. Martin, Beorth and Jeremy made their way up. They came through the snow covered brush and up through an opening in a wooden platform which created a kind of porch to a large hidden treehouse. There were two large coils of hemp rope up here, and a perch with a hooded hawk upon it. There was also a large barrel and drain fashioned from wood to allow melting snow to drip right into it.
A man appeared in the doorway to the treehouse. He was not very tall, but had an air of strength to him, the graying ends of his hair belying the youth in his sparkling green eyes. He wore a long sword at his side, and held a bow in his hands, but no arrow strung in it.
“So what are you looking for the Circle of Thorns for?” Siram asked, looking over his three guests very closely.
“We have been entrusted with tasks for Osiris, and it is there that two of these tasks can be accomplished,” Beorth replied.
“Heh,” Siram said, and stepped back into the house. “Come in.” The hawk on the perch ruffled its feathers.
Beorth, Martin and Jeremy followed him in. The interior of the treehouse looked very comfortable, with furs on the floor, and wooden fur-covered chairs. One wall had several different long and short bows on display, while over a iron pot-bellied stove were over a dozen pipes of different designs on pegs.
“Well, I wouldn’t recommend you go there,” pointing out two chairs they could use. Jeremy sat on the floor. “No one that goes there ever comes back out.”
“How come?” Jeremy asked.
“It is an immense wood surrounded by a wall of razor-sharp thorns,” Siram explained. “Hunters know to avoid the place as there is no way in there, unless you happen upon one of the mysterious openings that just appears sometime. But those who have gone in to explore or chase prey have never returned. Not a single word, ever.”
“It does not matter,” Beorth said. “We have to go there, regardless.”
“I had a feeling you’d say that,” Siram smirked. He stood and walked over to the wall of pipes and took down three. “All you need do is go due west until you hit the stream, and then follow it north. On the other side you’ll see a tall ridge with a wood on top. Make your way up there and you’ll be on the edge of the Food of the Blood Sap. If you had a map I could show you more clearly.”
Siram walked over to a table and packed the pipes, and passed them out, while he took a offered by Martin.
He took a few moments looking over the map.
“What is this stuff?” Martin asked.
“It’s a local herb. It helps to clear the mind,” Siram replied without looking up. Jeremy and Martin tried a bit, but Beorth politely refused.
“Hmmm, the Ampitheatre, what’s that?” He pointed to a spot on the map in the northwest corner of Greenreed Valley.
“We don’t know. We’ve never been there. Haven’t you?” Martin said.
“I avoid Greenreed Valley ever since that misty area rose up a few months ago at the start of winter,” Siram said. He looked back at the map. “This place, Westhold, it was wiped out by gnolls eight months ago. There ain’t nothing there anymore, but ruins and ashes.”
“How’d you get this map?”
“I made it from maps I was allowed to study at Aze-Nuquerna,” Martin said.
“You mean the elf place?”
“Yes.”
“Didn’t know they let humans in there,” Siram said, still not looking up from the map. “Some of the woodsmen around here trade with them, but it always takes place on the steps. No one goes in.”
“We helped them out of a jam,” Jeremy said. This made Siram look up and eyes the three of them up and down again.
“You guys a group of them dragon-hunters?” he asked.
“Yes, but I work for the king,” Martin said.
“We had a group of them dragon-hunters pass through here not too long ago and piss off some of the locals,” Siram said. “They were led by a guy that looks a lot like you.” He pointed at Jeremy.
Jeremy looked down.
“There was a big fight. It was a mess. They were finally driven away. Some folks wanted be to organize a party to track `em down and kill them all, but organizing folks against orcs or gnolls is one thing, but human business is human business. I’m happy to mediate some disputes, but fights is another thing. Plus, they had one them northern wildmen with them. He was impaled clear through by a spear and still managed to kill six men. What am I going to do?”
“You’re lucky he stopped at six!” Jeremy said.
“You know them?”
“We had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting them once or twice,” said Martin. “They seem like an unsavory lot.”
“Well, if you see them again, make sure you tell them not to come back here again.” He handed the map to Martin and gestured for the watch-mage to hold it open, and pointed to the top left corner. “That is what you are looking for.” He pointed south of there. “You can find wild ponies in this area, but be careful. I heard word of an owlbear hunting in them parts.”
There was a pause as they all puffed on their pipes.
“Do you have much contact with Ogre’s Bluff?” Martin asked.
“As little as we can get away with,” Siram replied. “We are not an official alder-village, and thus we avoid a lot interference by the king and the aldermen, but that also means we are on our own most of the time, but we like it that way. It was bad enough we had to deal with them during the orc skirmishes. Delagon, the constable is a real son of a b*tch. He gives everyone a hard time, like he’s the only one who had his wife and children killed by orcs. That’s happened to half the people around here.”
“Well, thank you very much for your help,” Martin said after he had put away the map. He handed the pipe back to Siram after taking one last long puff. He really liked the taste of that stuff, since the ring’s power had kicked in this was the first time he had tasted something and enjoyed it.
Beorth and Jeremy stood as well.
“Well, if you are going to the Circle I don’t expect to ever see you again,” Siram shook their hands. “Good luck. And if you ever need arrow or the like, I am pretty good bowyer and fletcher, and make extra money that way.
They bid Siram good evening and climbed back down the rope ladder.
“I thought this task was supposed to be the easy one,” Jeremy said, as they came to the bottom.
“This is the easy one,” Beorth replied. “We will be welcomed. Our grandfather, Osiris, will watch over us.
“I hope so,” Jeremy mumbled.
The party decided to spend the night in the lean-to where there was shelter. There Martin and Beorth retold all Siram had told them. In the morning, for better or worse, they’d make their way to the Circle of the Thorn.
End of Session #29
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Notes:
(120) The party rested here their first night outside of Gothanius castle, way back in session #14
(121) Kazrack was suffering the consequences for a special type of Geas. He was suffering a –2 penalty on each ability score for each day he did not make progress towards his goal.
(122) Archet is the name of the place Ethiel of Aze-Nuquerna told then they could find directions to the Forest of the Blood Sap.
(123) The party rescued Finn and the others from the bounty-hunter in session #19.
(124) DM’s Note: Beorth has the feat Armor Focus in scale mail, but cannot benefit from the feat in any other kind of armor.
MavrickWeirdo
First Post
Finn
Gwar is missing? We have to find him.
Martin is doing a much better job of "managing" the dragonhunters.
One question. When only 3 could go up in the tree, why did they send Jeremy?
Gwar is missing? We have to find him.
Martin is doing a much better job of "managing" the dragonhunters.
One question. When only 3 could go up in the tree, why did they send Jeremy?
el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
Re: Finn
They did not send Ratchis or Kazrack because they heard that non-humans (esp. half-orcs) were not liked in the area - and as for Jana - I can only assume one of two things - 1) She didn't care or 2) Sending a woman sometimes leads to other complications in a harsh frontier land.
MavrickWeirdo said:
They did not send Ratchis or Kazrack because they heard that non-humans (esp. half-orcs) were not liked in the area - and as for Jana - I can only assume one of two things - 1) She didn't care or 2) Sending a woman sometimes leads to other complications in a harsh frontier land.
el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
Session #30
The party settled into the lean-to for the night.
“Maybe in the morning we should see if Siram or someone has bows with stronger pulls for sale, for Ratchis and Jeremy, since they’re the best shots,” Kazrack suggested, laying his bedroll near the hearth.
“I don’t have much coin,” Ratchis said.
“We can pool our resources,” the dwarf said. “We should have enough.”
Osilem, 17th of Dek – 564 H.E.
Morning came, and there was still no sign of anyone being around; even Toothless Jabnit had disappeared.
Kazrack and Ratchis did their morning prayers while Jeremy and Beorth practiced their swordplay.
“I guess a place like this doesn’t have a market,” Kazrack mused, when he was done lying with his forehead on his prayer-stone for an hour.
“This is the market,” Martin said, just finishing his preparation of spells.
“They probably only convene the market every few weeks,” Beorth suggested.
“Well, it was just that I was curious what Jana needed to acquire to cast a lightning bolt like Rindalith did,” Kazrack said.
“What!?” Ratchis asked with surprise.
“Remember, he had a ring that allowed him to do that,” Jana said.
“I didn’t see that,” Kazrack said.
“I must have been the only one who noticed,” Jana said. (125)
“We can always cut the ring from his hand when we kill,” Beorth offered.
Everyone turned and looked at the paladin strangely
“Well, that is one way of dealing with the situation,” Jana said, with a smirk.
“My first thought was that it would be useful to be able to do that,” Kazrack said, arranging things in his pack.
“My first thought was that it hurt a great deal,” Ratchis said, wryly and threw his pack over his shoulder, stepping out into the morning sunlight.
Around them was the sound of dripping snow melting off the trees while birds chirped happily.
Kazrack tried to heal himself with a spell, but the pain of his broken arm was too much the first time and the spell was disrupted. He tried again, calling to Rivkanal, dwarven goddess of motherhood, mercy and protection, “Lady of the Raised Shield, please heal me that I may protect Derome-Delem in your name!”
The Cure light wounds spell functioned, and the last of the wounds the dwarf had suffered from the battle with Rindalith and the manticore were gone. He was also free of boils and blisters (even the scars of them were gone), and he felt fit and clear-headed.
The party walked over to Siram’s treehouse to ask him about purchasing strength bows, but no one was home.
They began their march westward.
“How long does a full moon last?” Kazrack asked when they had been marching just over an hour.
“Three days,” Martin replied.
“Then I hope we get there within the day,” Kazrack said. “The moon was full the last two nights, when it could be seen at all.”
“Why do you care about the full moon?” Beorth asked.
“Because my geas states that the sickle must be forged beneath the full moon,” Kazrack replied.
“Um, can you even make a sickle in one day?” Jeremy asked.
“No,” Kazrack said.
“There was something I wanted to make clear to you all,” Jana suddenly said. “If we run into Rindalith again, I want you all to know that I would not go with him. He has been known to charm people, so…”
“He won’t charm me,” Ratchis said. (126)
“So, if we see you going with him willingly we know that it is not truly your wishes?” Beorth said.
“Yes,” replied Jana.
The day was cold, but not the coldest they had endured while traveling the wilds of Gothanius for the previous few months. However, it was clear and nearly windless. Soon, Ratchis took a leads of a few score yards and led the way northward when they came to broad stream that was frozen in several places.
They marched on for another couple of hours, Ratchis scouting ahead in his magical boots that allowed him to keep on top of the snow and not leave a trail, while the others were forced to blaze a trail through snowbanks of various heights, keeping close to the stream where most of the snow had slipped into the water, and far from the treeline to the their right. Most of the time Ratchis was so far ahead that that the others could not see him, but it was not long after their break for a mid-day meal that he came jogging back to them.
“There are some travelers or natives to this area across the river, about 100 yards upstreadm,” the half-orc told the others. “I only saw one person. I think they were filling a skin on the bank, but there could have been others.”
“How were they dressed?” Beorth asked.
“Couldn’t really tell,” Ratchis replied.
“Is it safe to assume they are one of the hunters?” Kazrack asked.
“I have no idea,” Ratchis replied.
“Why don’t we just go and greet them?” Kazrack suggested, and the party agreed, continuing their march upstream, but with Ratchis keeping with them for now.
However, by the time they got to the spot Ratchis had seen the mysterious figure it was gone. They decided not to take the time to go across and look for signs of the person.
And on they marched. Ra’s Glory passed over their head from the right to the left and began its slow descent to the underworld. Soon they could see the tall ridge that ran parallel to the stream came into another taller ridge with a flattened top. They could see a multitude of trees atop it. They came to a spot where the stream was much broader, but shallower, and there were stones that allowed passage across without getting wet.
Kazrack led the way across, hopping from stone to stone very slowly and carefully.
“Be careful, the stones are very slippery, even a bit icy in places,” the dwarf called back.
Jana followed, and soon Martin and Jeremy had made it across as well. However, Beorth had not gone a third of the way across when his infamous clumsiness led to his slipping and splashing into the icy cold water.
“That stone is slippery,” Beorth said, weakly.
Jeremy erupted into laughter.
Ratchis hopped quickly from stone to stone to reach the ghost-hunter and help him up, but reaching down he slipped as well and joined him in the water.
Now Jeremy was on the ground holding his stomach as he pointed and laughed.
“Jeremy!” Martin scolded.
“What? That is really funny!” the Neergaardian replied through guffaws.
Ratchis stood in the shallow water and helped Beorth to his feet and then clutching his holy symbol called to his goddess, “Nephthys, please protect this holy warrior from the cold this evening.”
Beorth felt the divine warmth wash over him. “Thank you,” he said.
Soon enough, they were at the base of the steep climb up to the top of the ridge. It was soon determined that there was not easy way up within sight. They continued to walk north along the ridge in the dimming light looking for a place to ascend. Finally, Ratchis spotted a series of very large stones that made a staggered and immense stairway up the side.
As in most of their endeavors out in the wilderness, Ratchis took the lead, climbing the first stone and then lowering a rope to pull the others up one at a time. They repeated this four times before they were at the top of the ridge, but by that time the sun had finally set, and the moon, full, gray and unfocused (127) rose, revealing a wondrous sight.
As far as they could see the was a forest of towering pines and firs. The moonlight washed over the snow-capped tops of the trees giving the whole place a ghostly sheen. However, all about the forest was a all of twisted and tightly packed thorns that reached nearly to the upper branches of the towering trees. There was no obvious way through the thorns.
“That’s amazing,” Martin said.
“This is quite a sight,” Jana added.
“There must be a way in,” Ratchis said. “Let’s take advantage of the moonlight and try walking north along it.”
The party began to walk around the edge of the forest, only a few short feet from the tumble off the edge of the ridge.
They walked for nearly an hour with no sign of an entrance.
“Maybe we should just announce ourselves,” Martin suggested.
“How? Start a fire?” Kazrack asked.
“Very funny,” Ratchis was not often sarcastic.
Kazrack stepped closer to the thorns and reached out to see how much resistance they gave, when suddenly one of the thorns was impaled in his hand! He drew it back, as blood pooled in his cupped hand. The dwarf cried out.
“I swear they moved to stick me!” Kazrack said.
“Yes, I saw the move, too,” said Beorth.
“Well, hopefully that announced us,” Kazrack said.
“Announced us? Looks like we’re not getting the warm welcome from Osiris I expected,” Beorth said.
“I could’ve told you that,” Jeremy said under his breath.
“Oh ye of little faith!” Ratchis said. “It is not like we can expect to be welcomed by a marching band.”
The party continued walking, most of them feeling discouraged and tired., but Beorth hesitated.
Martin and Jana noticed Beorth peering deep into the thorns as if trying to get a better look at something.
“Ratchis?” Martin called to the half-orc who was still walking.
Kazrack heard and turned to see Beorth and the others standing still, “Ratchis, hold!”
“Beorth, what do you see?” Jana came up beside the paladin and placed a hand on his shoulder.
Beorth was silent for a long moment, and then stepped right up close to the thorns.
“The most beautiful creature I have ever seen in my life,” Beorth said, softly. “A ram…”
“Careful, Beorth, do not allow yourself to be beguiled,” Ratchis warned.
Beorth suddenly held his arms open to the sky and looked up. “Osiris, please grant us passage into your realm. I believe you are aware that my friends and I have a quest to fulfill within these walls!”
There was another moment of silence as Beorth’s companions looked back and forth from looking at each other to trying to look past the thorns to see if they could see the ram the paladin spoke of.
“It is moving this way,” Beorth said and stared walking northward again. The others followed.
“What does it look like, Beorth? How can it be that we do not see it?” Kazrack asked, as Beorth s tumbled along, occasionally pausing to strain his vision and then going on. After a few minutes of this he stopped suddenly.
“It will not go further,” Beorth said, stepping towards the thorn wall where it was between two particularly large trees. He did not stop and stepped right into the wall, but it parted for him with a gentle rustling.
“Wow,” said Jeremy, his jaw dropping open.
“We must enter now,” Beorth said walking into an ever-lengthening corridor between walls of thorn.
Ratchis did not hesitate and followed. Kazrack looked at Jeremy and said, “Take the rear.”
He followed Ratchis and then came Martin and Jana. Jeremy was last.
“It is leading us,” Beorth said to Ratchis. “Can’t you see it?”
“Describe it so that we may know what we look for,’ Kazrack said, over-hearing.
“It is huge. Larger than any normal ram, almost as if it were what every ram would aspire to be. It’s fleece is as spun gold, it is as tall as a man at the shoulder, and even its broad horns are honeyed in color,” Beorth said, as if in a trance.
Ratchis squinted his eyes, and for a second he thought he did see a sudden flash if gold between the thorns that slowly opened for them about 60 feet ahead in the dim moonlight. But then there was nothing.
Behind them, the thorns closed back up.
“Are we sure we are going the right way?” Jeremy asked.
“There is only one way to go,” replied Martin, holding his lantern as high as he could as to not loose sight of Beorth and Ratchis who led the way.
The path opened before them and closed behind them, all along Beorth following the immense golden ram that no one else could really see. It seemed a noble creature to him, moving confidently at the edge of his vision, the thorns opening before him. The path itself wound back and forth from the left to the right and back again, meandering almost as if by random, but definitely taking the party deeper and deeper into the woods, just very slowly.
It was oddly quiet. There was no sound of animals, birds or insects around, just the sound of their boots in the snow.
“If we got attacked here we’d be sitting ducks,” Kazrack commented.
No one replied.
After the meandering for a half hour, the path seemed to straighten again. As best as Ratchis could tell they were going north by northwest. Suddenly, ahead on the right they saw the glow of a large bonfire. The path passed a clearing on the right, which was just on the other side of a few feet of thorns. The bonfire was in the clearing, but they could not determine how large the clearing was through the thorns.
“Hello? Is there someone there? Is someone there? Hello?” a frightened woman’s voice came from inside the clearing.
Beorth stopped and stepped closer to the thorns on the right aside and tried peering through. Way up ahead the ram turned left and the path opened for him as he moved out of sight.
“Hello?” the paladin called into the clearing beyond, as Ratchis stepped up beside hum and peered in as well.
The could now see a bier of stone beside the bonfire. Upon the stone was a the silhouette of a woman wrapped in a fur blanket. She moved forward on the stone, but was stopped by a chain which was connected from her ankle to a ring in the stone.
“Oh thank Ra! You have to help me before the monsters come back!” She began to grow more and more disturbed. “Please. Oh god, please! There has been some kind of mistake.”
Ratchis felt his ire rise in him as he saw the chain on her ankle, and his hand went reflexively to his war hammer.
“She sounds like she needs help,” Kazrack said.
“What would a woman be doing in the depths of the thorns?” Martin wondered aloud.
Ratchis looked around frantically for a way into the clearing, but there was none.
“Beorth, move ahead!” Ratchis commanded, hoping the path would lead them around into where she was.
“Hello, who is there?” The woman called again. “Hurry, before they come!”
“Aren’t we going to help the woman?” Kazrack said, puzzled at seeing Beorth and Ratchis begin to hurry forward past the clearing and make for the bend away from it. The dwarf stepped towards the clearing and looked in to see the woman. “Gods! Woman, what is going on here?”
“I really don’t think we should meddle in these things. We really don’t know what’s going on here and what we’re getting involved in,” Jana said, but her warning for caution went unheeded. Kazrack turned his shoulder and tried to walk through the thorns, hoping his armor and covering his face with his arms would protect him, but he was wrong. He could feel the thorns squirm and wriggle to make sure he pressed himself against the maximum number possible, and they were as strong as steel puncturing his chain shirt in many places. The dwarf leapt back, his body streaked with his own blood running from numerous puncture wounds.
Ratchis turned when he heard Kazrack cry out, and began to hack at the thorn wall with his sword.
“No! It’s too late they’ve come,” the woman suddenly shrieked, and the party could now hear snarling voices approaching the clearing from the other side. They voices were goblin-like, but deeper and harsher in tone.
“The ram that Beorth can see must have led us here to save this woman!” Kazrack said, drawing his light flail in his off hand.
“No! The ram led us to the path, not to the woman!” Jana isnsited.
”That doesn’t matter, we still have to save her!” Jeremy said, drawing his long sword.
“This is all a nightmare! A nightmare! “ the woman began to scream.
“Gnarish farsche cunndosh fessa!” One of the goblinoid voices cried in a commanding tone.
“Let’s try and find another way around,” Ratchis cried to his companions when he realized that his chopping was virtually ineffective and that it would take too long to chop all the way through. The thorns moved and regrew almost as fast as he cut at it.
“Woman, have you met any druids?” Ratchis called.
“No! There are no druids here!” She replied.
“ Why are you a prisoner?”
“Just help me, please help me! Help me!” The woman begged.
“Why were you brought here?” Ratchis continued to question.
“The monsters just grabbed me!”
“We gotta help the lady!” Jeremy insisted.
“Those creatures might be the druids,” Ratchis warned.
“That’s what I think, let’s see where the path leads,” Beorth said, drawing his own sword, and leading the way.
Martin joined Kazrack in peering into the clearing and now both could see two large hairy humanoids, broad-shouldered and with visible fangs. They were covered in long dirty brown fur, and their red eyes glowed faintly in the dim light.
“Goresh feeshee knach-knache!” One of them growled.
“I hate to sound callous, but we don’t know what’s going on,” Jana said, following Ratchis who took off after Beorth. “Maybe this is some form of punishment for her.”
“Those are bugbears!” Kazrack cried out. “Bugbears can be druids?”
“Sumnus! Martin cried, casting a handful of sand through the thorn wall. One of the bugbears swayed and fell, snoring loudly at the feet of his companion.
“Loxxo Far-geeva karsh!” the other bugbear screamed, and ran back the way he had come. “Farna-loxxo! Farna-Orsho!” he could be heard to yell.
“How long will that last?” Kazrack asked Martin.
“A few minutes,” Martin replied.
“Hopefully that will last long enough. It seems the other one went to get reinforcements. We need to find a way around,” Kazrack said.
“Help! Please! Help!” the woman cried.
“We are trying to find a way around. We’ll be right back,” Kazrack called to the woman, pushing Martin ahead of him. Jeremy took up the rear.
“This doesn’t seem to be going in the right direction, but I don’t see what other hope we have,” Kazrack said, as the path turned right again, leading the party further away from the clearing.
Jeremy paused and looked back. He could hear the woman screaming more and the bugbear voices yelling what he thought were jeers and insults at him and the others.
They walked onward for another ten minutes until the cries of the woman had faded away. The path turned left again. They were moving even further away.
“This isn’t going to lead to her.” Said Kazrack, obviously frustrated.
“It is very possible that that woman is to be a human sacrifice,” Ratchis said, calmly, but not slowing his pace.
Beorth still led the way, and he could still see the ram leading the way.
“That’s horrible!” Martin exclaimed.
“Who would practice such a foul ritual?” Kazrack asked.
“The druids of Osiris, that’s who,” Beorth said, matter-of-factly.
Kazrack stopped dead in his track and hung his head, “Who have I sworn aid to…?”
“Don’t worry, Kazrack,” Ratchis said, trying to sound reassuring. “They only sacrifice prisoners.”
“It matters not!” the dwarf retorted.
“Prisoners who volunteer,” Ratchis added.
“Volunteers I can almost accept,” Kazrack said, beginning to walk again.
“Remember Kazrack, just because you see something in this place doesn’t make it real,” Jana warned.
“Dwarves cannot be fooled by illusions!” Kazrack said stubbornly.
“Yes they can,” Martin said.
“No, they can’t,” Kazrack maintained.
“What about when you heard those false voices when we were attacked by those demon gnomes?” Jeremy asked.
“That wasn’t an illusion. It was voices,” Kazrack would not give in.
“No, that was an illusion,” Martin said, condescendingly.
“Bah!”
They continued to walk. Occasionally, Beorth would lose sight of the ram, and quicken his pace only to find him having turned again on the long meandering course.
“So, we are just going to leave that woman to die?” Jeremy asked, sounding upset.
“If she’s here by her own choice…” Beorth began.
“She didn’t seem to be here by her own choice,” Jeremy snapped. “And if she did come her by her own choice, she chose a bad time to change her mind.”
Kazrack threw his flail down and kicked the dirt. “Martin, what do you say?” the dwarf looked to the watch-mage for direction on the matter.
“I will trust Beorth’s and Ratchis’ judgment in this matter,” Martin replied.
They continued to walk, and Kazrack took up the spot beside Ratchis.
“Will you call upon your goddess to heal the wounds I took while attempting to go through the thorns?” Kazrack asked the friar.
“If you will have an open mind about what we find here,” Ratchis replied.
“I always have an open mind,” Kazrack said, and Jana rolled her eyes.
“I just need you to understand that we may not have the power to do certain things here,” Ratchis said.
“Regardless of whether something is possible, you still have to try it if it is the right thing,” Kazrack said.
“What would you have done? Gone back and shouted at them? That would have been helpful,” Ratchis said, growing more and more comfortable using sarcasm from the months of spending time with these people.
“I’ve bowed to the preference of the group. Is that not enough?” Kazrack said, sulkily.
Ratchis cast a curing spell on Kazrack.
The companions marched for another half hour, their fatigue growing.
“The ram is gone, but it looks like maybe there is something ahead,” Beorth called out. For a moment it looked like the path opened into a clearing, but suddenly a cloud passed over the moon, and Martin’s lantern did not seem up to the job of piercing the ominous dark.
“It’s a good thing we don’t necessarily believe in omens,” Jana said, looking up as the last bit of moonlight disappeared.
“I do,” Kazrack said.
They stepped slowly into the clearing, and found that the “mouth” of it was a bit wider than the path by about ten feet on either side, but beyond it was inky blackness of a much huger clearing that went far past the range of the lantern.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Jeremy murmured.
They heard a grunt from the darkness before them, and then the sound of something crunching through the snow, loudly.
The party let out a collective gasp a bear stepped into the circle of lantern light. However, it was like no bear any of them had ever seen. It was twenty feet long and tall than a man at the shoulder. It reared up on its hind legs and bellowed.
“By the gods!” Kazrack exclaimed.
Beorth fell to his knees, “ The druids know we are here.”
Ratchis put his hand out towards the bear and took a half-step forward. The immense bear let out a breathy grunted, and fell back to its four legs and stepped toward the party.
“Ratchis, beware…” Kazrack warned, reaching for his flail. The bear roared again, and Ratchis could see the huge maw open before him. The bear could easily rip the head and shoulders off the half-orc’s body with one bite, but Ratchis did not flinch. Instead, he put his other hand out gesturing for Kazrack to step back.
The bear snorted and began to sniff Ratchis. The half-orc felt the cold and moist nose of the bear on his face, the mucus and saliva of the bear smearing off onto his face. He could feel its hot breath, in and out, pulling on his skin, and the animal’s stinky breath. The bear sniffed him up and down, the force of his snout knocking the huge ranger back a few feet, but he always stepped right back up to it with no fear. The bear turned its head and looked at Kazrack, and yawned. It then turned and walked back to the darkness.
“Kazrack, take up the rear,” Ratchis asked the dwarf. “Beorth, you walk up front with me.”
They stepped forward into the inky darkness of the huge clearing. The light from Martin’s lantern seemed to almost struggle against the night and barely persevere. Suddenly, there was a sound like many feet crunch in the snow from several spots up ahead in the darkness the bear had disappeared into.
There was the suddenly light of three huge fires lighting up, two about sixty feet from the party and third between them, but another ninety feet back. And all about them in a semi-circle were scores of the large hairy goblins. They held spears, and began to speak in their harsh language, their individual murmurs turning into a collective roar.
The party froze in their tracks, outnumbered at least ten to one, maybe even twenty to one.
The cloud rolled away from before the moon, and the crowd of bugbears opened creating an aisle from which emerged several robed figures. At their lead was a tall figure nearly seven feet tall. He wore a brown cloak, with the hood over his head, and at his side he wore the curved blade of a scimitar. At his right side, was the only uncloaked figure of those that came forward, it was a huge bugbear (at least a head taller than the others), but his face was shaved showing his pinkish-yellow skin covered in intricate war paint of blue, black and red. This bugbear’s fur was dyed blue and black in places, had a ring through his nose and he wore a collar of tanned human skin. On the bugbear’s right was another black cloaked figure, but only slightly taller than five feet in height. On the central figure’s left were two cloaked figures of about equal height, but one had a great girth, and the other was tall and lean.
The central cloaked figure raised his hand and the scores of bugbears all quieted suddenly with a sound like a break in a rainstorm. He brought his hands up to his hood and pulled it back, revealing a non-human face. His face had a furred muzzle, brown and dappled with spots of black and streaks of white. It was nearly canine in look, but not like any dog any of them had ever seen, except perhaps Ratchis.
“A gnoll,” Martin murmured.
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Notes:
(125) Jana is the only one in a position to make a spot check to notice the ring (at DC 18) that actually made the check.
(126) Friars of Nephthys automatically save against all compulsion spells that allow a save, and are allowed a save against those that normally don’t.
(127) Aquerra’s moon is called Mind’s Eie, is a gray color and appears blurry in the sky for unknown reasons.
The party settled into the lean-to for the night.
“Maybe in the morning we should see if Siram or someone has bows with stronger pulls for sale, for Ratchis and Jeremy, since they’re the best shots,” Kazrack suggested, laying his bedroll near the hearth.
“I don’t have much coin,” Ratchis said.
“We can pool our resources,” the dwarf said. “We should have enough.”
Osilem, 17th of Dek – 564 H.E.
Morning came, and there was still no sign of anyone being around; even Toothless Jabnit had disappeared.
Kazrack and Ratchis did their morning prayers while Jeremy and Beorth practiced their swordplay.
“I guess a place like this doesn’t have a market,” Kazrack mused, when he was done lying with his forehead on his prayer-stone for an hour.
“This is the market,” Martin said, just finishing his preparation of spells.
“They probably only convene the market every few weeks,” Beorth suggested.
“Well, it was just that I was curious what Jana needed to acquire to cast a lightning bolt like Rindalith did,” Kazrack said.
“What!?” Ratchis asked with surprise.
“Remember, he had a ring that allowed him to do that,” Jana said.
“I didn’t see that,” Kazrack said.
“I must have been the only one who noticed,” Jana said. (125)
“We can always cut the ring from his hand when we kill,” Beorth offered.
Everyone turned and looked at the paladin strangely
“Well, that is one way of dealing with the situation,” Jana said, with a smirk.
“My first thought was that it would be useful to be able to do that,” Kazrack said, arranging things in his pack.
“My first thought was that it hurt a great deal,” Ratchis said, wryly and threw his pack over his shoulder, stepping out into the morning sunlight.
Around them was the sound of dripping snow melting off the trees while birds chirped happily.
Kazrack tried to heal himself with a spell, but the pain of his broken arm was too much the first time and the spell was disrupted. He tried again, calling to Rivkanal, dwarven goddess of motherhood, mercy and protection, “Lady of the Raised Shield, please heal me that I may protect Derome-Delem in your name!”
The Cure light wounds spell functioned, and the last of the wounds the dwarf had suffered from the battle with Rindalith and the manticore were gone. He was also free of boils and blisters (even the scars of them were gone), and he felt fit and clear-headed.
The party walked over to Siram’s treehouse to ask him about purchasing strength bows, but no one was home.
They began their march westward.
“How long does a full moon last?” Kazrack asked when they had been marching just over an hour.
“Three days,” Martin replied.
“Then I hope we get there within the day,” Kazrack said. “The moon was full the last two nights, when it could be seen at all.”
“Why do you care about the full moon?” Beorth asked.
“Because my geas states that the sickle must be forged beneath the full moon,” Kazrack replied.
“Um, can you even make a sickle in one day?” Jeremy asked.
“No,” Kazrack said.
“There was something I wanted to make clear to you all,” Jana suddenly said. “If we run into Rindalith again, I want you all to know that I would not go with him. He has been known to charm people, so…”
“He won’t charm me,” Ratchis said. (126)
“So, if we see you going with him willingly we know that it is not truly your wishes?” Beorth said.
“Yes,” replied Jana.
The day was cold, but not the coldest they had endured while traveling the wilds of Gothanius for the previous few months. However, it was clear and nearly windless. Soon, Ratchis took a leads of a few score yards and led the way northward when they came to broad stream that was frozen in several places.
They marched on for another couple of hours, Ratchis scouting ahead in his magical boots that allowed him to keep on top of the snow and not leave a trail, while the others were forced to blaze a trail through snowbanks of various heights, keeping close to the stream where most of the snow had slipped into the water, and far from the treeline to the their right. Most of the time Ratchis was so far ahead that that the others could not see him, but it was not long after their break for a mid-day meal that he came jogging back to them.
“There are some travelers or natives to this area across the river, about 100 yards upstreadm,” the half-orc told the others. “I only saw one person. I think they were filling a skin on the bank, but there could have been others.”
“How were they dressed?” Beorth asked.
“Couldn’t really tell,” Ratchis replied.
“Is it safe to assume they are one of the hunters?” Kazrack asked.
“I have no idea,” Ratchis replied.
“Why don’t we just go and greet them?” Kazrack suggested, and the party agreed, continuing their march upstream, but with Ratchis keeping with them for now.
However, by the time they got to the spot Ratchis had seen the mysterious figure it was gone. They decided not to take the time to go across and look for signs of the person.
And on they marched. Ra’s Glory passed over their head from the right to the left and began its slow descent to the underworld. Soon they could see the tall ridge that ran parallel to the stream came into another taller ridge with a flattened top. They could see a multitude of trees atop it. They came to a spot where the stream was much broader, but shallower, and there were stones that allowed passage across without getting wet.
Kazrack led the way across, hopping from stone to stone very slowly and carefully.
“Be careful, the stones are very slippery, even a bit icy in places,” the dwarf called back.
Jana followed, and soon Martin and Jeremy had made it across as well. However, Beorth had not gone a third of the way across when his infamous clumsiness led to his slipping and splashing into the icy cold water.
“That stone is slippery,” Beorth said, weakly.
Jeremy erupted into laughter.
Ratchis hopped quickly from stone to stone to reach the ghost-hunter and help him up, but reaching down he slipped as well and joined him in the water.
Now Jeremy was on the ground holding his stomach as he pointed and laughed.
“Jeremy!” Martin scolded.
“What? That is really funny!” the Neergaardian replied through guffaws.
Ratchis stood in the shallow water and helped Beorth to his feet and then clutching his holy symbol called to his goddess, “Nephthys, please protect this holy warrior from the cold this evening.”
Beorth felt the divine warmth wash over him. “Thank you,” he said.
Soon enough, they were at the base of the steep climb up to the top of the ridge. It was soon determined that there was not easy way up within sight. They continued to walk north along the ridge in the dimming light looking for a place to ascend. Finally, Ratchis spotted a series of very large stones that made a staggered and immense stairway up the side.
As in most of their endeavors out in the wilderness, Ratchis took the lead, climbing the first stone and then lowering a rope to pull the others up one at a time. They repeated this four times before they were at the top of the ridge, but by that time the sun had finally set, and the moon, full, gray and unfocused (127) rose, revealing a wondrous sight.
As far as they could see the was a forest of towering pines and firs. The moonlight washed over the snow-capped tops of the trees giving the whole place a ghostly sheen. However, all about the forest was a all of twisted and tightly packed thorns that reached nearly to the upper branches of the towering trees. There was no obvious way through the thorns.
“That’s amazing,” Martin said.
“This is quite a sight,” Jana added.
“There must be a way in,” Ratchis said. “Let’s take advantage of the moonlight and try walking north along it.”
The party began to walk around the edge of the forest, only a few short feet from the tumble off the edge of the ridge.
They walked for nearly an hour with no sign of an entrance.
“Maybe we should just announce ourselves,” Martin suggested.
“How? Start a fire?” Kazrack asked.
“Very funny,” Ratchis was not often sarcastic.
Kazrack stepped closer to the thorns and reached out to see how much resistance they gave, when suddenly one of the thorns was impaled in his hand! He drew it back, as blood pooled in his cupped hand. The dwarf cried out.
“I swear they moved to stick me!” Kazrack said.
“Yes, I saw the move, too,” said Beorth.
“Well, hopefully that announced us,” Kazrack said.
“Announced us? Looks like we’re not getting the warm welcome from Osiris I expected,” Beorth said.
“I could’ve told you that,” Jeremy said under his breath.
“Oh ye of little faith!” Ratchis said. “It is not like we can expect to be welcomed by a marching band.”
The party continued walking, most of them feeling discouraged and tired., but Beorth hesitated.
Martin and Jana noticed Beorth peering deep into the thorns as if trying to get a better look at something.
“Ratchis?” Martin called to the half-orc who was still walking.
Kazrack heard and turned to see Beorth and the others standing still, “Ratchis, hold!”
“Beorth, what do you see?” Jana came up beside the paladin and placed a hand on his shoulder.
Beorth was silent for a long moment, and then stepped right up close to the thorns.
“The most beautiful creature I have ever seen in my life,” Beorth said, softly. “A ram…”
“Careful, Beorth, do not allow yourself to be beguiled,” Ratchis warned.
Beorth suddenly held his arms open to the sky and looked up. “Osiris, please grant us passage into your realm. I believe you are aware that my friends and I have a quest to fulfill within these walls!”
There was another moment of silence as Beorth’s companions looked back and forth from looking at each other to trying to look past the thorns to see if they could see the ram the paladin spoke of.
“It is moving this way,” Beorth said and stared walking northward again. The others followed.
“What does it look like, Beorth? How can it be that we do not see it?” Kazrack asked, as Beorth s tumbled along, occasionally pausing to strain his vision and then going on. After a few minutes of this he stopped suddenly.
“It will not go further,” Beorth said, stepping towards the thorn wall where it was between two particularly large trees. He did not stop and stepped right into the wall, but it parted for him with a gentle rustling.
“Wow,” said Jeremy, his jaw dropping open.
“We must enter now,” Beorth said walking into an ever-lengthening corridor between walls of thorn.
Ratchis did not hesitate and followed. Kazrack looked at Jeremy and said, “Take the rear.”
He followed Ratchis and then came Martin and Jana. Jeremy was last.
“It is leading us,” Beorth said to Ratchis. “Can’t you see it?”
“Describe it so that we may know what we look for,’ Kazrack said, over-hearing.
“It is huge. Larger than any normal ram, almost as if it were what every ram would aspire to be. It’s fleece is as spun gold, it is as tall as a man at the shoulder, and even its broad horns are honeyed in color,” Beorth said, as if in a trance.
Ratchis squinted his eyes, and for a second he thought he did see a sudden flash if gold between the thorns that slowly opened for them about 60 feet ahead in the dim moonlight. But then there was nothing.
Behind them, the thorns closed back up.
“Are we sure we are going the right way?” Jeremy asked.
“There is only one way to go,” replied Martin, holding his lantern as high as he could as to not loose sight of Beorth and Ratchis who led the way.
The path opened before them and closed behind them, all along Beorth following the immense golden ram that no one else could really see. It seemed a noble creature to him, moving confidently at the edge of his vision, the thorns opening before him. The path itself wound back and forth from the left to the right and back again, meandering almost as if by random, but definitely taking the party deeper and deeper into the woods, just very slowly.
It was oddly quiet. There was no sound of animals, birds or insects around, just the sound of their boots in the snow.
“If we got attacked here we’d be sitting ducks,” Kazrack commented.
No one replied.
After the meandering for a half hour, the path seemed to straighten again. As best as Ratchis could tell they were going north by northwest. Suddenly, ahead on the right they saw the glow of a large bonfire. The path passed a clearing on the right, which was just on the other side of a few feet of thorns. The bonfire was in the clearing, but they could not determine how large the clearing was through the thorns.
“Hello? Is there someone there? Is someone there? Hello?” a frightened woman’s voice came from inside the clearing.
Beorth stopped and stepped closer to the thorns on the right aside and tried peering through. Way up ahead the ram turned left and the path opened for him as he moved out of sight.
“Hello?” the paladin called into the clearing beyond, as Ratchis stepped up beside hum and peered in as well.
The could now see a bier of stone beside the bonfire. Upon the stone was a the silhouette of a woman wrapped in a fur blanket. She moved forward on the stone, but was stopped by a chain which was connected from her ankle to a ring in the stone.
“Oh thank Ra! You have to help me before the monsters come back!” She began to grow more and more disturbed. “Please. Oh god, please! There has been some kind of mistake.”
Ratchis felt his ire rise in him as he saw the chain on her ankle, and his hand went reflexively to his war hammer.
“She sounds like she needs help,” Kazrack said.
“What would a woman be doing in the depths of the thorns?” Martin wondered aloud.
Ratchis looked around frantically for a way into the clearing, but there was none.
“Beorth, move ahead!” Ratchis commanded, hoping the path would lead them around into where she was.
“Hello, who is there?” The woman called again. “Hurry, before they come!”
“Aren’t we going to help the woman?” Kazrack said, puzzled at seeing Beorth and Ratchis begin to hurry forward past the clearing and make for the bend away from it. The dwarf stepped towards the clearing and looked in to see the woman. “Gods! Woman, what is going on here?”
“I really don’t think we should meddle in these things. We really don’t know what’s going on here and what we’re getting involved in,” Jana said, but her warning for caution went unheeded. Kazrack turned his shoulder and tried to walk through the thorns, hoping his armor and covering his face with his arms would protect him, but he was wrong. He could feel the thorns squirm and wriggle to make sure he pressed himself against the maximum number possible, and they were as strong as steel puncturing his chain shirt in many places. The dwarf leapt back, his body streaked with his own blood running from numerous puncture wounds.
Ratchis turned when he heard Kazrack cry out, and began to hack at the thorn wall with his sword.
“No! It’s too late they’ve come,” the woman suddenly shrieked, and the party could now hear snarling voices approaching the clearing from the other side. They voices were goblin-like, but deeper and harsher in tone.
“The ram that Beorth can see must have led us here to save this woman!” Kazrack said, drawing his light flail in his off hand.
“No! The ram led us to the path, not to the woman!” Jana isnsited.
”That doesn’t matter, we still have to save her!” Jeremy said, drawing his long sword.
“This is all a nightmare! A nightmare! “ the woman began to scream.
“Gnarish farsche cunndosh fessa!” One of the goblinoid voices cried in a commanding tone.
“Let’s try and find another way around,” Ratchis cried to his companions when he realized that his chopping was virtually ineffective and that it would take too long to chop all the way through. The thorns moved and regrew almost as fast as he cut at it.
“Woman, have you met any druids?” Ratchis called.
“No! There are no druids here!” She replied.
“ Why are you a prisoner?”
“Just help me, please help me! Help me!” The woman begged.
“Why were you brought here?” Ratchis continued to question.
“The monsters just grabbed me!”
“We gotta help the lady!” Jeremy insisted.
“Those creatures might be the druids,” Ratchis warned.
“That’s what I think, let’s see where the path leads,” Beorth said, drawing his own sword, and leading the way.
Martin joined Kazrack in peering into the clearing and now both could see two large hairy humanoids, broad-shouldered and with visible fangs. They were covered in long dirty brown fur, and their red eyes glowed faintly in the dim light.
“Goresh feeshee knach-knache!” One of them growled.
“I hate to sound callous, but we don’t know what’s going on,” Jana said, following Ratchis who took off after Beorth. “Maybe this is some form of punishment for her.”
“Those are bugbears!” Kazrack cried out. “Bugbears can be druids?”
“Sumnus! Martin cried, casting a handful of sand through the thorn wall. One of the bugbears swayed and fell, snoring loudly at the feet of his companion.
“Loxxo Far-geeva karsh!” the other bugbear screamed, and ran back the way he had come. “Farna-loxxo! Farna-Orsho!” he could be heard to yell.
“How long will that last?” Kazrack asked Martin.
“A few minutes,” Martin replied.
“Hopefully that will last long enough. It seems the other one went to get reinforcements. We need to find a way around,” Kazrack said.
“Help! Please! Help!” the woman cried.
“We are trying to find a way around. We’ll be right back,” Kazrack called to the woman, pushing Martin ahead of him. Jeremy took up the rear.
“This doesn’t seem to be going in the right direction, but I don’t see what other hope we have,” Kazrack said, as the path turned right again, leading the party further away from the clearing.
Jeremy paused and looked back. He could hear the woman screaming more and the bugbear voices yelling what he thought were jeers and insults at him and the others.
They walked onward for another ten minutes until the cries of the woman had faded away. The path turned left again. They were moving even further away.
“This isn’t going to lead to her.” Said Kazrack, obviously frustrated.
“It is very possible that that woman is to be a human sacrifice,” Ratchis said, calmly, but not slowing his pace.
Beorth still led the way, and he could still see the ram leading the way.
“That’s horrible!” Martin exclaimed.
“Who would practice such a foul ritual?” Kazrack asked.
“The druids of Osiris, that’s who,” Beorth said, matter-of-factly.
Kazrack stopped dead in his track and hung his head, “Who have I sworn aid to…?”
“Don’t worry, Kazrack,” Ratchis said, trying to sound reassuring. “They only sacrifice prisoners.”
“It matters not!” the dwarf retorted.
“Prisoners who volunteer,” Ratchis added.
“Volunteers I can almost accept,” Kazrack said, beginning to walk again.
“Remember Kazrack, just because you see something in this place doesn’t make it real,” Jana warned.
“Dwarves cannot be fooled by illusions!” Kazrack said stubbornly.
“Yes they can,” Martin said.
“No, they can’t,” Kazrack maintained.
“What about when you heard those false voices when we were attacked by those demon gnomes?” Jeremy asked.
“That wasn’t an illusion. It was voices,” Kazrack would not give in.
“No, that was an illusion,” Martin said, condescendingly.
“Bah!”
They continued to walk. Occasionally, Beorth would lose sight of the ram, and quicken his pace only to find him having turned again on the long meandering course.
“So, we are just going to leave that woman to die?” Jeremy asked, sounding upset.
“If she’s here by her own choice…” Beorth began.
“She didn’t seem to be here by her own choice,” Jeremy snapped. “And if she did come her by her own choice, she chose a bad time to change her mind.”
Kazrack threw his flail down and kicked the dirt. “Martin, what do you say?” the dwarf looked to the watch-mage for direction on the matter.
“I will trust Beorth’s and Ratchis’ judgment in this matter,” Martin replied.
They continued to walk, and Kazrack took up the spot beside Ratchis.
“Will you call upon your goddess to heal the wounds I took while attempting to go through the thorns?” Kazrack asked the friar.
“If you will have an open mind about what we find here,” Ratchis replied.
“I always have an open mind,” Kazrack said, and Jana rolled her eyes.
“I just need you to understand that we may not have the power to do certain things here,” Ratchis said.
“Regardless of whether something is possible, you still have to try it if it is the right thing,” Kazrack said.
“What would you have done? Gone back and shouted at them? That would have been helpful,” Ratchis said, growing more and more comfortable using sarcasm from the months of spending time with these people.
“I’ve bowed to the preference of the group. Is that not enough?” Kazrack said, sulkily.
Ratchis cast a curing spell on Kazrack.
The companions marched for another half hour, their fatigue growing.
“The ram is gone, but it looks like maybe there is something ahead,” Beorth called out. For a moment it looked like the path opened into a clearing, but suddenly a cloud passed over the moon, and Martin’s lantern did not seem up to the job of piercing the ominous dark.
“It’s a good thing we don’t necessarily believe in omens,” Jana said, looking up as the last bit of moonlight disappeared.
“I do,” Kazrack said.
They stepped slowly into the clearing, and found that the “mouth” of it was a bit wider than the path by about ten feet on either side, but beyond it was inky blackness of a much huger clearing that went far past the range of the lantern.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Jeremy murmured.
They heard a grunt from the darkness before them, and then the sound of something crunching through the snow, loudly.
The party let out a collective gasp a bear stepped into the circle of lantern light. However, it was like no bear any of them had ever seen. It was twenty feet long and tall than a man at the shoulder. It reared up on its hind legs and bellowed.
“By the gods!” Kazrack exclaimed.
Beorth fell to his knees, “ The druids know we are here.”
Ratchis put his hand out towards the bear and took a half-step forward. The immense bear let out a breathy grunted, and fell back to its four legs and stepped toward the party.
“Ratchis, beware…” Kazrack warned, reaching for his flail. The bear roared again, and Ratchis could see the huge maw open before him. The bear could easily rip the head and shoulders off the half-orc’s body with one bite, but Ratchis did not flinch. Instead, he put his other hand out gesturing for Kazrack to step back.
The bear snorted and began to sniff Ratchis. The half-orc felt the cold and moist nose of the bear on his face, the mucus and saliva of the bear smearing off onto his face. He could feel its hot breath, in and out, pulling on his skin, and the animal’s stinky breath. The bear sniffed him up and down, the force of his snout knocking the huge ranger back a few feet, but he always stepped right back up to it with no fear. The bear turned its head and looked at Kazrack, and yawned. It then turned and walked back to the darkness.
“Kazrack, take up the rear,” Ratchis asked the dwarf. “Beorth, you walk up front with me.”
They stepped forward into the inky darkness of the huge clearing. The light from Martin’s lantern seemed to almost struggle against the night and barely persevere. Suddenly, there was a sound like many feet crunch in the snow from several spots up ahead in the darkness the bear had disappeared into.
There was the suddenly light of three huge fires lighting up, two about sixty feet from the party and third between them, but another ninety feet back. And all about them in a semi-circle were scores of the large hairy goblins. They held spears, and began to speak in their harsh language, their individual murmurs turning into a collective roar.
The party froze in their tracks, outnumbered at least ten to one, maybe even twenty to one.
The cloud rolled away from before the moon, and the crowd of bugbears opened creating an aisle from which emerged several robed figures. At their lead was a tall figure nearly seven feet tall. He wore a brown cloak, with the hood over his head, and at his side he wore the curved blade of a scimitar. At his right side, was the only uncloaked figure of those that came forward, it was a huge bugbear (at least a head taller than the others), but his face was shaved showing his pinkish-yellow skin covered in intricate war paint of blue, black and red. This bugbear’s fur was dyed blue and black in places, had a ring through his nose and he wore a collar of tanned human skin. On the bugbear’s right was another black cloaked figure, but only slightly taller than five feet in height. On the central figure’s left were two cloaked figures of about equal height, but one had a great girth, and the other was tall and lean.
The central cloaked figure raised his hand and the scores of bugbears all quieted suddenly with a sound like a break in a rainstorm. He brought his hands up to his hood and pulled it back, revealing a non-human face. His face had a furred muzzle, brown and dappled with spots of black and streaks of white. It was nearly canine in look, but not like any dog any of them had ever seen, except perhaps Ratchis.
“A gnoll,” Martin murmured.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Notes:
(125) Jana is the only one in a position to make a spot check to notice the ring (at DC 18) that actually made the check.
(126) Friars of Nephthys automatically save against all compulsion spells that allow a save, and are allowed a save against those that normally don’t.
(127) Aquerra’s moon is called Mind’s Eie, is a gray color and appears blurry in the sky for unknown reasons.
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