Thanks for the reminder, Maldur! I've updated the story through part 6 on the temp boards (I'll try to remember and post to both), and remember, you guys can always drop by my website when the boards are too crowded to get in
.
The whole group is in the process of levelling up; I'll post their new stats at my Rogues' Gallery thread sometime this weekend.
* * * * *
Book IV, Part 7
It took another full day of hiking along the twisting mountain trail before they reached the fringes of the forest. As if on cue the snow began to fall shortly thereafter, starting with just a few scattered flakes but rapidly settling on a moderate but constant downfall that soon covered the world around them with a uniform coat of white.
Without a clear idea of where they were going, other than the fact that they wanted to get out of the mountains, the companions spent the rest of that day working their way down the steeply sloping route that led down into the low country below. The forest was quiet, with no signs of life other than the noise of their own passage.
The air was bracingly cold. Dana had her magical cloak, and Benzan, for all his complaining, could resist the cold due to his heritage, but the others felt it keenly, and the weather combined with the short rations was beginning to have an effect on them. At least they had ample wood for a fire that night at their campsite, and the following morning Dana prayed to Selûne for spells that would offer Cal, Lok, and Elly some protection against the harsh elements. She was also able to locate some bark that provided a bitter tea that offered some substitute to their exhausted supply of coffee. Benzan took one sip and pronounced the stuff utterly vile, but they all drank it nonetheless, welcome for anything that could take the edge off of the cold that suffused their weary bodies.
They spent the next two days traveling gradually to the southwest in such fashion, Dana renewing the endure elements magic each morning and using her nature lore to find them edible plants to eat. Dana’s cloak also had the power to conjure up a small amount of magical food each day, which she shared with her companions. Even with that and her skill, however, it was clear that they would not be able to continue the hard pace with such meager fare. The bag of holding was now empty, at least of anything edible.
On their third morning in the forest, Dana was in the middle of her prayers, the others gathered close around their fire nearby, when she suddenly felt an epiphany. Her eyes popped open in surprise as she felt a new thread of power connect her and her goddess.
“What is it, Dana?” Cal asked, noticing the change that had come over her expression.
“Nothing… just give me a few minutes,” she said, opening her mind again to the power of Selûne.
“It’d better not be another monster,” Benzan said. “I’m not fighting another battle until we get some real coffee—not this ogre-piss we’ve been drinking.”
“And how would you know what ogre piss tastes like?” Delem offered, drawing a laugh from Cal and Elly. Benzan glared at the sorcerer, but didn’t respond to the jibe.
“I’ll be glad when we finally get out of these mountains,” Elly said. “This reminds me of a vessel I once crewed on that went north to Luskan late in the year. We were caught in a storm that nearly destroyed the ship. Since then I’ve made it a point to stay in the more southerly climes come winter.”
“Yet people do live in places like this, despite the weather,” Cal said. He went on to tell them about the Uthgardt barbarians of the far north, the hardy dwarves that lived in citadels carved from the mountains, and the omnipresent orcs that seemed to blast down out of the Spine of the World with each new generation. They listened to his descriptions with interest, although Lok seemed slightly distracted.
Cal lost his audience, though, when a flat spot near the fire was suddenly filled with a tall pile of foodstuffs, from a dozen plump loaves of trailbread to a medley of multicolored fruits and vegetables!
“What the…” Benzan said in surprise, then their gazes turned collectively to Dana, who stood there looking at them with a smug expression.
“Thank the goddess,” she said with a smile. “I’ve been awarded access to a new class of more potent divine magics. Looks like you’re not the only one who is expanding their powers, Delem.”
“Well then, give my thanks to Selûne, then,” Benzan said, as he reached for a loaf of bread. He hesitated, and asked, “This isn’t going to taste like that stuff Ruath used to make for us, is it?” he asked.
“Shut up and eat,” Cal said. He wove his hand over the food, casting a minor cantrip to enhance the flavor of the divinely-provided meal. All of them dug into the conjured food, but they’d barely begun to eat when they were interrupted by a call that came from the forest a short distance away.
“Hello the camp!”
The food was momentarily forgotten as weapons were drawn and spells called ready to mind. The snow, still falling in scattered flakes, made it difficult to spot whoever had spoken, but the voice hadn’t been loud enough to carry too far.
“Do you see him?” Cal asked Benzan in a whisper.
“No, nothing,” the tiefling said.
“Show yourself!” Cal shouted, while the others faced warily in the direction from which the initial call had come.
Two shadows materialized from within the line of trees a short distance away, and approached the camp. They were clad in white cloaks that blended with the snow-covered landscape, and as they neared the companions could see that they were men. Or more specifically, as they approached close enough to make out details, a silver-haired elf, in the company of a burly warrior who looked to have more than a hint of orcish blood. That combination alone made them an unusual combination, but their isolated surroundings made travelers of any sort out of the ordinary. The elf carried a composite longbow and a slender sword at his hip, while the hafts of a pair of battleaxes protruded above the shoulders of the half-orc, who wore a shirt of chainmail under a thick fur vest.
“Hail, and well met, travelers,” the elf said in a friendly and melodious voice. The half-orc said nothing, but fixed them with a stare as cold and hard as the stones around them.
“Good morning,” Cal said. “Bit of a cold spell we’re having, isn’t it?”
The elf’s eyes traveled over each of them in turn, taking their measure before returning to Cal’s diminutive frame. “Indeed. We saw your fire, and came over to see what manner of travelers would be out in weather like this, in such a forbidding place.”
“We could ask the same of you,” Cal said, his tone still light. “I mean no offense, but elves and orc-kin are not known as boon companions.”
“Gorath and I… well, ours is not a typical story,” the elf said. “Though I see that you, as well, might have a few tales to tell in that regard.” Subtly, without being too obvious about it, his gaze shifted briefly to Benzan and Lok in turn. “But I am forgetting my manners. I am Lariel of the Silver Bow, arcane archer of the court of Evereska. This is my ‘boon companion,’ as you say, Gorath, a ranger of the High Wood.” The half-orc nodded almost imperceptibly, but uttered nothing more than a slight grunt. Cal, in turn, introduced each of them, giving only their names without more elaboration for now.
“You are far from your homelands,” Dana offered.
“As are you, priestess of Selûne,” Lariel replied. “Or do I miss my guess, that you are of Western Heartlands stock?”
“You are perceptive,” Cal said. “It is a cold morning, and while we must on our way shortly, a little lingering around a warm fire can never hurt. Would you like to join us? There is hot food, if you like.”
The two companions exchanged a quick glance, and Lariel nodded. “A generous offer, and one that we would be happy to accept, though we too must be on our way before the day grows too full.”
Warily the two groups returned to the fire and Dana’s summoned food, facing off on two different sides of the circle across the flickering flames. It was clear that each side had questions for the other, but Lariel deferred to Cal and his friends, as the hosts of this impromptu gathering. He took a beaten iron mug of hot tea from Elly while his companion devoured an entire loaf of trailbread and a wide assortment of fruits.
For a few minutes they ate in silence, and then Cal said, “So, you said that you had an unusual tale to tell, Lariel. I am a storyteller myself, and always enjoy hearing tales of unusual meetings, such as this one.”
Gorath shot his companion a quick look that clearly bespoke caution, but Lariel seemed to be at ease. “There are dark tidings throughout the North this winter, whispers of trouble that perhaps you have heard?” When Cal didn’t reply, he went on, “The orcs have been troublesome, but that is not uncommon. There have also been rumblings of ogres on the move in the Ice Mountains, but the dwarves at Citadel Adbar would know more of that than I. But Gorath, and I, we are here investigating some darker rumors, rumors of shadows stirring in the old dwarven ruin that was once Ascore.”
Lok showed a flicker of recognition at the name, and Lariel saw it, for he said, “Ah, so perhaps you know of this place, then?”
“I am from this region,” Lok said, “though I have not seen the snows fall here in some years.” To the others, he said, “Ascore is at the end of the old northern road to the south of here, several days travel, I’d guess. It once marked the edge of the old dwarven empire of Delzoun, and was a port, on the edge of the inland sea that is now the barren sands of Anauoch.”
“I’ve heard the name,” Cal said, though he didn’t elaborate.
Shadows…” Dana said. “What do you mean? Is there some sort of evil dwelling in the ruins?”
“Perhaps,” Lariel replied. “You have heard no word of this, then?”
“We are only newly come to this region ourselves,” Cal said. “A portal transported us here, against our wishes. We’ve had a bit of difficulty over the last few days, but haven’t seen any sign of a more organized evil.”
“Just a lamia sorceress, some ogres, and a few perytons,” Benzan said brusquely. “An average tenday for us, I’d say.”
Lariel regarded him with a raised eyebrow, but didn’t reply. Instead, he said to Cal, “So, where do you seek to go from here?”
Cal looked around at his companions. “Well, I think we all pretty much want to get out of these mountains, and someplace a little more civilized, for now. After that… well, probably back to the Sword Coast or the Western Heartlands, I suppose.”
“A long journey,” Lariel said. “And I wish we could help you find your way, but we have pressing business of our own, as I said. There’s a pass to the west of here, just a few hours’ travel from this place, that will take you swiftly to the main road that cuts up to Citadel Adbar. The road to Sundabar is easier, but no less dangerous, and much longer—tendays, at least, on foot. I’d warn you of the dangers present in the mountains, but it seems like you’re well able to care for yourselves.”
“Thank you,” Cal said. “And good journey to you.”
“Good journey,” the elf replied, as he and his companion stood and shook the snow from their garments.
“Thanks for the food,” the half-orc ranger grumbled around a mouthful of bread, the first words he’s spoken since their meeting.
And with that, the two swiftly departed to the southeast.
“Strange pair,” Benzan commented.
“No stranger than our mix,” Lok replied.
“He dodged my question about what they were looking for,” Dana said.
“Yes, I noticed that too,” Cal said. “In any case, though, we’ve got a destination now, and with luck we’ll soon be able to rest and catch our breath before setting out again. I wish them luck, but whatever those two are looking for, hopefully it doesn’t concern us.”
But as they gathered up their gear, including what was left of the food conjured by Dana, the priestess of Selûne could not help but glance over her shoulder, southward where the elf and half-orc had vanished.
She couldn’t say how she knew, but somehow she wasn’t so sure.
