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Bruh that's fake news

[Quaksna]

Oh I didn't know it was you I paid to capture my family reunion, Superdorf, you even put the two party crashers there to the left splendid

Aside everything, since it doesn't seem we've advanced much with the stoat name, I presume you'll have to quarrel sort it out yourselves, should you still care of course, I can take care of that ultimately.

. . .

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

"Leave it in, wait for me!" you cry, and engage the last man standing. You want to lose no time, so you turtle behind your shield and charge against the foe, full speed ahead.

The warrior fails to stab you in this position, and upon impact, despite he cannot fall over, trapped in the roots, his stance is disrupted. Next thing, you aim for the neck.



You're still unable to land the hits as intended, but the strike served its purpose, the opponent cannot bring himself to retaliate. Upon the next, you hack into his spine, killing the last of your pursuers.



"And there we have it. Deer, where is your grace, where is your triumph..."



Without a moment of hesitation, you speed with all haste towards the wounded hunter, still panting with difficulty, occasionally voicing a painful grunt. Your companions obeyed the instruction, and only his position they adjusted, the javelin is still lodged in firm. You put aside the weapons, and urge the rest to do so as well, you will need all pair of hands available.

"I am speaking of you of course, Blackhoof! See, even your new friends you cannot take care of..."



"Now you will pull it out, carefully, but at a pace reasonable." you instruct them, and Flax immediately seizes the helm of that. "I need to fill in the space just as it is uncovered. Ready?"

With a nod he signals, and draws the bloody skewer out, as you help to hold Sas in place. Once the tip leaves his body, you change course of your hands, plunging them into the wound forthwith.



Even you didn't get to peek inside, you are pretty sure you can diagnose from what your fingers tell alone. Hard is it always for your kind to touch the crimson livegiving substance, but such is the fate of a healer. After all, it wouldn't give off much of the sacred life otherwise, under these circumstances...

"The guts are spilled..." you utter, and can soon see upon faces of your fellows the worry, thus you find it better to keep the morale through. "Fear not, we can do this. He will make it..."

"But will he? Not with the lack of merit on your part. However..."



The wraith's musings are the last thing you need right now, as you've not come to think the first time lately. But you ignore his words, and focus instead on the spell. It is crucial that you mend the tissue burst open, as the bleeding itself you can easily stop. The ooze poisoning from within you cannot, nor anyone.

Such an advanced injury is difficult to fix, even with your magic. But your experience alleviates much of it, it is something else that hinders you. One after one, you can feel the forest spirits leave. Why now?



Your companions turn pale again, save the stoat who would, wasn't she so already, now it is upon the sight of you. Profound sweat drifts down your coat, and shiver takes hold of your limbs, great fatigue overwhelms you, so that an effort just as great it takes to not let your knees slip beneath, and your face burrow in snow. Only barely you carry on with the incantation, you're hands you've managed to keep in. Slowly you regain strength.



Once you can feel the intestine whole, you abandon the spell, not to fall slumbering yourself. Sas does catch some relief, much to that of you all.

"This I didn't see coming..." you mutter, reflecting on the experience. "Quite some time 'twas, since this last happened to me..."

"Bloody drumsticks, you better not scare us like that!" Flax says, and doesn't sound exactly gleeful, the concern seeps through his throat. "What was that about, then? Will he be fine? And you?"

To this you nod, and once again attempt to settle the man down.



"Nothing afoot on my part, as much as I can tell... The spirits abandoned their post early."

"Well, isn't that interesting, now! Huh? Huh!"

"Reverse procedure." you tell the party. "I'll get out, you patch the wound. He shouldn't bleed fast, but... Take no comforts."

"You go." Flax grunts, and passes a rag to the stoat, before standing up, in a hurry. "I'll salvage whatever we can from this miserable encounter... The sooner we get lost the better!"



So you proceed, two securing the injury, one collecting speartips. Once that is done and over with, the leader commands - you have to move.

"Give him a shoulder, will you?" he gives you a serious look, and supports the hunter from the other side. "We don't know if there are more, we shouldn't stay any longer."

As much as you'd advocate for some rest, judging from his furrowed brow and flaming eyes blazing ever stronger, you know what this marks, he means it. You obey, and as Sas is lifted, the guide lunges forth, setting the pace, swift, but reasonable for the wounded man. Conditioned into this six-legged vehicle, little choice you have yourself.



A while you drift through the wood without a word, then Flax doth stop. None of you can pick up any sign that you might be followed, thus he couldn't object anyway, still it is appreciated he won't drive you forward at all costs, though, you do have some reservations.

"Well." he speaks, looking you in the eye. "What now?"



"I understand we might not want to stand ground, I don't take the matter lighty..." you reply. "Neither do I the wound. He needs rest, we can't force his blood storm like this!"

"I can carry on..." the hunter mouths, and you are quick to retort.

"But you shouldn't."



"And that's what we need to decide on now." Flax steps in, before leaving Sas leaning on you, walking off to gaze into the distance. "It is clear we won't reach the border on the morrow. Likewise it is, we cannot take another blow like this. Speaking of which... Do we have an explanation for the attack?"

The question is clearly meant for you, and even though you have thought your share about the whereabouts, you cannot quite put your finger on it.

"There was definitely some reason behind it..." you mumble, but obviously, such a proclamation won't do at all.



"I was under the impression you'd rather not meddle with affairs of man..." your guide continues, and turns back towards you. "Other than haggling a piece of metal onto your pole, I've gathered you're rather keen about that... Not for hunting then, is this how you make war?"

"Don't be mistaken about my people raising it for battle. 'Tis in our blood, every man craves power, not just the great and mighty..." you utter, entertaining the words as they're passed. "I am more concerned about why would they go for me..."



And indeed, that is the part most worrisome. For as you could have imagined such lads slaying for riches or wives, what made them dare to stand against a shepherd of the unseen? Ultimately, a possible explanation does occur to you, one no less ominous - another priest would have to sanctify it. The moose tribes were wiped in such a fashion, if it is true, how would you stand a chance?

Of this you are afraid to talk, but luckily, the maiden speaks first, cutting the silence short.

"So what are we going to do?"



What do you want to do?

[Quaksna]

Strik3r says:


We have no choice, but to set up camp here. But we should avoid starting a fire if we can at all avoid it. But before we do anything else, can we personally commend the stoat girl for her bravery and quick wits during the fighting? Like, are we sure this is the same, scared lass whom we found wailing and tied to a tree?

[TeaKing]

We have no choice, but to set up camp here. But we should avoid starting a fire if we can at all avoid it. But before we do anything else, can we personally commend the stoat girl for her bravery and quick wits during the fighting? Like, are we sure this is the same, scared lass whom we found wailing and tied to a tree?

+1

[King Zultan]

We have no choice, but to set up camp here. But we should avoid starting a fire if we can at all avoid it. But before we do anything else, can we personally commend the stoat girl for her bravery and quick wits during the fighting? Like, are we sure this is the same, scared lass whom we found wailing and tied to a tree?

+1

+1 We might also want to search the immediate area for anything that could help us on our journey.

[Quaksna]

It is with great sadness I have to announce to you, I got wasted watching random Bollywood I've fallen sick, therefore, I've decide to spend this week on an "episode" experimental, and got very little done regardless, so here we are - I have the next outlined, no interaction warranted necessarily, you know the drill.

Also Strik3r wishes you all a happy new year. And Christmas, forgot to have that included in the last one.


. . .

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The four of you glance upon each other, anticipating someone to step in charge. And since you've got your thoughts sorted already on the matter most pressing, that being Sas' injury, you can and do strike a plan forth.

"My proposal is such." you speak, peering into your guide's eyes, as he approaches his companions again. "This once, we make a camp here. When Sas gets a proper scab, then we can speed on."

Flax slowly walks all the way up to you, returning the gaze, but his lips move not.  As he circles 'round you lot, clearly you can see in his face contemplation of this course of action. He doesn't seem to have arrived at a conclusion just yet, so you elaborate some more.

"We cannot set fire, obviously, and likely other measures we'll need to take so to stay hidden..."



"You do realize in case we are found, even if we're lucky to triumph at all, I am rather sure such concern will prove pointless, as we're very much bound to lose someone upon further encounters." the warrior mouths, meandering ever so.

"I know. But for the sake of Sas, we should take the risk. Not to mention, we cannot be sure about those future encounters anyhow."

The man stops, and so his thinking soon comes to an end.



"That is true." he nods, and joins you back below the hunter's arms, only to sit him down, freeing your shoulder. "But I implore you, no one makes a sound, we'll all stay together until the dawn, actually I'll prefer you all sleep. I'll stay on guard."

"Shouldn't we lend a hand...?" the girl asks, and is readily addressed.

"No! My only condition. I can see the value in preserving each of us, and in my estimation, our chances of achieving that are highest this way."



It is decided then, thus you settle down, and try to get comfortable the best you can, you will have to wait for a good while. Before seating yourself, there were some other things you wanted to attend to, first, a visit to the stoat.

"I'll say, vagrant..." you tell her. "You've really shown yourself in that fray! The prowess I wouldn't have thought possible..."

No reply you get, but an ambiguous stare, the girl quietly sitting, clutching onto her trophy. Shouldn't her eyes pierce in your general direction, you'd think she didn't hear you.



"To this I have to agree..." Flax overhears you, like you still standing on his feet, now too coming closer to look upon her from above. "The vigor I cannot take away. Now, it wouldn't hurt to have the will to kill as well."



It's you passing confused glints hearing such speech, and the fairhead picks up on it.

"See, I had to expel the tough's soul."

"He'd have bled in no time..." the stoat whispers, and likewise the cue is quick to be adressed.



"In a fight, we do not hand out time." Flax utters, fingers dancing over his pommel with lazy, deliberate taps. "Still. You played a large part of your own volition. A most welcome surprise! Thanks for that."

The vagrant doesn't respond, instead maintaining its ever-indeterminate look. Hence, Flax doesn't stay too long, with a smirk he heads for his spot, uttering some parting words.

"Also, good you've kept the weapon."



"If we're selling the tips, I think I'll keep just the shaft." says the maiden. "That's all I need."

"Nonsense!" the warrior laughs, as he seats himself in the snow. "Now Black's plan has its merits, but what'd be actually pointless, if not a dismantled spear? You keep it on."

Thus concludes your little chat, and all go mind their own. Before catching a break yourself, there was something else that had occured to the mind...



You look around the place, if anything of worth lurks under your noses. Only a handful of moss you harvest, dry it in your searing hands, and offer the company, all come to pass the dish however. You won't  have to eat all of it still, as you take a share to help soak the blood.



Correct was your judgement - little it would help the wound to exert its bearer. Not much blood was lost, and you don't want to imagine what would come of it without your intervention. But, it does seem secured at last, and if nothing disturbs your moment of respite, you can take your mind off it.



Then you finally sit down, and a period of quiet introspect is upon you, as, no one is keen to talk more, until the sunset, then to the dawn again. All of you have settled in some way - Sas naturally appreciating something to lean on, like a man struck by harsh fever, the vagrant gazing far away, giving no more impression than the last time, and Flax, like a resting bird, stone-still and eyes closed. And no matter, after all, you do have plenty to think about...

[Superdorf]

Oh man, I love the direction you went with the art this time.

[King Zultan]

Happy New Year everyone!

Can't think of any suggestion besides just bedding down for the night like planned, and we should probably do the sleeping in shifts like we've been doing.


I've seen comic books with the thick outlines like that.

[Quaksna]

Oh man, I love the direction you went with the art this time.

Oke let's stick with it lol

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Darkness descends upon the valley, and as you've agreed, three fall to slumber beneath the patchy roof of the forest. On the morrow you shall move again, and intend to push especially hard, a good night's rest you welcome. Not to mention, it was nice to outweigh the battle's rush with the calm evening. Whatever you come to seek in your sleep, however, always uncertain you are these days.

The night will be remembered as unfolding thusly - starting with the gloom of Melabil, the shadows promptly cornered with an alit candle. A person walks into the room, sporting rather common clothing, the kind you've seen worn in the cities. It is a man, one you cannot safely say you remember, but has the appearance you'd expect from this hole, half opulent, half ravaged, the kind of individual one is to avoid for the best.



He sits down at the table, very close to the point from which you observe, and soon you come to learn, you can hear him, too. Only his slow, coarse breath, as he's dumb as a rock at the moment.



Another fellow enters the cell, likewise simple clothed, unremarkable all the way up to his vicious face, he carries a board with some food. He assumes a seat beside the first, and lays down the dish, it is clearly meat served in slices, but of a very odd texture, more gray than red in color. You would hesitate to taste such a meal, but the first attendee picks it up forthwith, and dines on it in a very casual fashion. So does the other one, looking up to his colleague's face between the bites every so often. Not because he'd be of insufficient height, he keeps his head low himself.



He looks as if he wanted to speak to the first, but one glance at his bitter, squinted eyes suspend such attempt, indefinitely. When they finish the food, the timid latecomer picks up the board, and places it somewhere under the table. Afterwards he dares speak, but is cut short almost immediately.

"Do you th..."



"Skies above, you're on duty!" spits the first man, as the other draws in trembling. No more words are uttered, as the two shift their focus towards the door. But apart from some noise in the hallway, no more guests appear.



"Did you like my offering?"



Like a rabid rat does the voice bite your ears, firm and cold, yet forever linked in your mind with a memory of demented laughter, you too now anticipate. Yourself you see, lying motionless in the snow, and the fallen sorcerer towering gaunt, carrying himself 'round, watching over you with great interest, his eyes wider and deeper than a lake lit by moon, his spear menacing a couple ells above, beside his waist.



"Know this, I am capable of so much worse. But first, it is a friendly council I grant, listen well."

Little more can you do, as this feels more of a dream than the sensation beforehand. Complain you couldn't still, as profound hatred fills your chest, you wouldn't accept a spot at this host's fire again in a lifetime.

"Seek not the hermit, after all, if such difficulties you have tending to brother Crackantler, what can he do? He fell from grace long time past, what does he know of such grave matters?"



"But you are not entirely lost yet. Should you still pursue the wrong goal, I am afraid I'll have to get my prize the hard way..."



"Whatever shall it be..."



The dawn breaks, and with it, so do you break free from your dream. Sas sleeps on, the vagrant doesn't seem to. Flax thrones under his tree as a toad on its red-capped stool, still resembling an owl, indolent in the daylight. Only briefly you look upon him, he opens his eyes, and keeps them so.

"You do talk an awful lot when asleep." he states plainly, you on the other hand the words sharpen.



"No way, what did I say?" you ask getting up, worried, but keeping the voice on hold, not to arouse any suspicion. 

"Worms in yer coffer should I know." the man rolls his eyes. "To be more precise, you mutter rather. Eh, no matter anyway. A tree cat couldn't hear you from a yard! The night went well, no more savages as far one can see."



Now Sas too did regain senses. A brief look upon him standing up is enough to tell, the worst is past you. Still, Flax brought a shaft to serve as a staff for him to lean on to. You are ready to go.

"Well! Get up, everyone. We embark forthwith."



Another day's travel is ahead, and as per usual, you have plenty to contemplate unattended. Now especially, if you are to meet master Soulcatcher, how that will go. It's seemed you would just come across him down the path, but will you? You are not sure anymore. And Flax's remark did make you think, whether the others might hinder the business. You do have to strain yourself as to keep your other missions covert, ever so more you find, in spite of your prominent spot within the group, how much weight would your word have now? As these are matters personal, there is no telling.



While you uneasily navigate the maze of your mind, the rest enjoys a chat going on, while it's mainly Flax and Sas exchanging thoughts, all three are embroiled. And just now, the talk captures your interest as well.

"On that bank, there's an old school, too, where lads go pursue bookkeeping and alike." Flax tells the two. "A whole district around it, not many places like that in the north."

"Surely the magicians hold a tight grip on such an area!" the hunter replies, his pain but a fleeting echo in the chinwag, him leaning onto the stick the only reminder..

"Oh they'd wish! Many a group stands to gain from the grounds. Temples, burghers, the nobility... So they do have a tough competition there! Not to mention, much less influence they exercise in the green lands, we won't find many runecarvers in these parts! For the better... Even if it wasn't so, the collegium is a society well established, they know better than to let be held sway by anyone!"



"From what I've gathered, the criminals do seem to have a wealth of contacts therein..." the vagrant suggests, both her and Sas awaiting the leader's response. And amusing game it is, seeing his face go all rum considering this new possibility, interrupted from his lecture. You might take a part shortly yourself.

"On that I cannot speak, but I suppose maintaining the independence has its cost... And some chose to pay that way. I'd certainly believe it! A lot more plausible than the sorcerer fingers running deep here."



"You do talk an awful lot when these runecarvers are concerned." you join in, as it appears to be the right opportunity - either to extract something out of Flax, or get him to listen. "I suppose the mutual history could run deeper than those fingers, but now you seem to know a fair share about this school, too! How exactly are you involved in the state of affairs here?"

"Oh, the library was and still is a point of great interest. Unfortunately the scholars aren't one to cooperate usually... But unlike the wizards, they aren't particularly ambitious either. Which is good, as a matter of fact, I almost stood a trial in this kingdom, weren't it for the officials being at odds with the runecarvers themselves..."

It indeed is more uplifting to spend your time thusly, instead of pondering your tragedy all the time. This day might not end up being so bad after all...

[King Zultan]

Let us continue these conversations while we continue on our journey.

[Quaksna]

. . .

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

"Tell me more of that... Occassion." you plead, to keep Flax going.

 "Eh, it was very much down to being at the wrong place at the wrong time, like we were ourselves." he explains. "Mind you, in need of a culprit, they always go after an easy target, though, I'd say I wouldn't expect them to pick me at the time, it was very strange... See, a murder was being investigated, funny that, just one more bloody, more in yer face. But as I've said, the governor did not trust the magicians..."

It seems you got him talking right, the fairhead carries on and on. And a good pastime it makes, with some useful insight ever so often, time will fly.



"Indeed, it is a different place 'round the border..." Flax continues. "Another assortment of people altogether, these rural parts may still be pure Northern blood, but the towns! A different story. Many from o'er at ours came to dwell here, brought their gods, their customs... You'll see, it's a place brimming with faces varied, it'll surely ease you in what lies beyond..."

To the last words the vagrant nods, the rest of you can't but try to imagine, how does such a society look like.



"I'd never have thought my fatherland so fragmented.." says Sas, likely reminiscing of his time home, now so far away.

"And you wouldn't know, outside the respective areas. I wouldn't myself, in fact, still, it is more apparent in Behal Kir. This was the intelligence Sodu supplied us with. A man of great cunning he was, but alas, he got outsmarted at last..."

"What was he like, anyway?" you ask. "We never got to see him."



Flax pauses his narration, just to put his thoughts in place, however. He is willing to talk, and you are to listen. And special are these moments, when his voice, while no less firm, puts aside the bussines of the day bravado, and you hear something more earnest, almost, as if he was trying to bring into being what he's to say.

"He felt like he bore the weight of the world on his shoulders, but the toil tired him not. He knew no hurry, yet was always ready to shred mountains. Ever-calm, but those who lived through his wrath won't forget. And no wonder, he was a man of great zeal, native to this ground, he recognized the stake he had in its future. A tall, grizzled fellow, his hair like a grey crow, most of the time found on that one chair. Truly, an exceptionally bright individual, but no one would know... Until now..."

"You said he was loyal, but also a local? I'd assume your people shouldn't have yourselves attached to the land like that."

Again does the warrior fall silent. This time, to conclude his speech.



"You'll understand, in due time." he promounces, and it is over. You and Sas take it for what it is, but the vagrant is very obviously disturbed, when your leader speaks thusly. And all quiet you proceed.



Flax was right in his judgement - despite the hunter walking on his own, the attack has delayed you, and left a poacher's eye on your feet, you make stops more often, and while in the moment it does not feel so, upon sunset it is clear as the day passed, you don't cross the hills and moors as you've used to. Not to mention, he cannot provide you with food, which you can read is rather crushing for him especially. But all share the burden, and none complain. As a company should...



Again doth Flax take the watches upon himself, and just as before, the stoat volunteers too. Curiously, she is allowed to partake. You are dispatched from broken arms to concern yourself fully with Sas, you help the skin renew. What lies beneath you cannot touch, and will stand to prove the ultimate result, but hopeful you are, for still day after day, it looks better. Then, you are to sleep.



This night in Melabil sparks your curiosity, despite you're still contained within the boring cell, a visitor comes you do have a memory of, the Joñu elder in ceremonial garbs, using not a candle, but a flickering wisp of a blue light to shine onto his path. He does not enter the room as such however, from the hallway he peers inside, very carefully. You cannot hear anything this instance, but suddenly, he retracts his head, and is quick to leave, as another passes the corridor.



The incoming salutes upon the meeting, to which old man responds with a nod, and disappears in the dark tunnel, not with haste though, making it appear nothing was going on. The second chap slips inside, and that is all you can remember. 



Upon the next day, very soon you could see the Great river again, and a wealth of cabins by its bank, one such cluster your immediate destination. A great draft it has been, rising with the earth to descend back now, returning to the land of man. Tired and starved, with great expectation you approach civilization.



A long time t'was since you've visited a settlement of this size, and it suits you better than the cities. Most of it the sky roofs, no great crowds tough to navigate through, and not enough sights on you warranting worry, especially those of guards, that seem to be rather scarce in these.



The few you do encounter remind you of the middle kingdom, clad in unifying colors, all around giving off a look more grand and noble, definitely when compared to the fierce lot you've seen at your first tavern's visit. And these do pass glances at your party, however, not the malicious kind you've experienced before. Hardly can you blame them, too, a visit of an ensemble so wretched anyone would find unsettling.



"Right, now here's the plan." Flax speaks, before you proceed down the street. "There is not much resources to be found in these hamlets, but we'll have to do this one night! We can't stay outside after dark, so let us see who'd take us in."

[Quaksna]

Strik3r says:


Lets let the stoat girl take the lead on this. Just a hunch.

[King Zultan]

Lets let the stoat girl take the lead on this. Just a hunch.

+1 Sound good.

[Quaksna]

. . .

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

"Say, why not let the vagrant do the negotiations?" you propose, and judging from the leader's expression, it is a thought worth considering.

"Continue." he bids you, and although it has just occurred to you, you think you can articulate.

"Well, I'd think they'd rather let her stay than the lot of us. Certainly more... Convincing."

"You want me to beg?" the girl asks, and your four eyes speak for themselves.



"Aye, on our behalf!" the warrior answers, quite elated. "I must say, this idea I like. Don't worry, you'll get the added benefit of enjoying the same comfort you'll win the rest of us."



"That's an awful way to put it." Sas shakes his head. "But I suppose it is our best shot. The two of you could scare them, I mean, you're the most mangled captain, but could have just as well fallen in the gorge whilst on mushrooms."

"That... Is a possibility. You try to be in the front with her then, Arutekud! See, we put our heads together for a plot most immaculate..."

"Hardly." rasps the stoat. "Mine was left out."



"Stone-hard butter woman, don't be difficult now!" Flax retorts, but doesn't give in to anger. "Look, do us a favor, I can repay you in the city. Along the way, even, should an opportunity occur!"

"Can I get rid of the speartip?"

"No!!!"



You decide to step in, not just for your own sake, but passerby's are starting to gain interest, even though they can't hear you, hopefully. The guards as well, but on the bright side, it doesn't amount to more than all being amused by your bickering.

"Easy, we won't get anywhere this way." you speak. "I know it's far from ideal, but it'd help us a lot. And as Flax mentioned, we're not ungrateful. I can... Take a thorough look at that talisman, if that'd make you feel better."



The maiden stares down at the ground, as the people around carry on with their business. Then, she lifts her head up, and answers back.

"What should I say?"



Your leader smiles, points you at a nearby door and takes the vagrant for instruction aside. Briefly you wait, and are ready to go.

With a knock she summons the master, a series of stomps foretelling his arrival. Like a wounded rabbit the old wood cries, and face to face the two meet.



"Whadd'you want?" the grizzled fellow asks, about as expecting of such visitors as anyone around here, but unfazed nevertheless.

"Good mister, we're travellers, seeking shelter for the night!" she replies. "We've been ambushed in the woods by wild beastmen, and cannot reach the town today."



The villager's face contorts in various manners, as he processes the statement, before switching to a look more clarified.

"Oh, you're the revolutionaries! Ey, can't provide, can't provide." he announces, amidst the door screeching, but before he gracefully shuts it, he puts his head in for the last time. "Tell you what though, go down the bank, there by the willows you'll find Gisla's hut, he will help, that I can assure you. Farewell!"



Such speech left you speechless, a series of glances exchanged until Flax dares comment.

"Well, I suppose the legend does lope faster than us."

"You don't mean..." Sas utters, and an answer not very assuring he acquires.

"I presume so, 'tis what he alluded to."

"And that is?" the vagrant asks, in a tone hard to pick apart, whether the question's sincere, or get Flax to acknowledge an error in judgement. However it may be, he is quick to respond once more, only after a brief check upon the surroundings.



"The carnage in Usodestis." he whispers to her. "Our only exploit bound to warrant conclusions like this..."

Suddenly, the looks from passerbys get more irritating. And worrisome.

"Are you sure we're safe here at all, then?" the stoat mutters, and in that moment, she captures your impressions perfectly.

"Sure, I mean, I might be wrong." the warrior mouths, and gets moving. "Come, we've been granted a tip!"



"We really want go through with this?" Sas asks the leader, who doesn't show a sign he wouldn't. "We do have the whole day for this, but they seem to distrust us quite the bunch..."

"If we stay on the street after dark, then we'll be rightfully suspicious!" Flax replies. "I say, hope shines eternal, let's try the one!"



The house you were directed to you see is a smaller shack, connected to a sturdy clay mound, just a few leaps away from the river, to which a path is thoroughly kept. Multiple of these are there up the stream, but this one seems odd, quite singled out, when compared to the other dwellings. Your human friends don't find it so, however, a reassurement you need indeed these days.



There is no time to waste just beholding the hut, thus, although unsure herself, the vagrant greets the door right away.

Again you hear steps, albeit much lighter coming your way, suddenly halted by an exclaim.

"I'll get it, I will!"

And a concert of heavy feet mauling the floor takes its place. If you didn't know better, you'd think another battalion of thugs is to jump you, but you can hear, it is a single man hasting.



And the single man opens, greyer than all you have seen in this village so far, wrinkles running deep and the lean body beginning to lose its firmness. Yet full of life and of voice so jolly, your hopes it launches up immediately.

"Greetings wanderers, how may I be of service?" he bows, almost falling over. He really could use a cane, but seeing him rock gleefully without, his two braids flailing 'round the elated face is a sight precious so, you wouldn't want to rob anyone of it.



"Salutes to you, we're looking for a night's stay." the vagrant speaks for all, and is to elaborate, but the dweller has verve greater than any of you, it seems.

"But of course, come in, come in!" the host howls, leaves the door wide open, turns around and with his hand invites you inside. "The last mind the draft, thank you!"

This seems awfully convenient, but the previous local knew what's on, you suppose. Besides, you've decide to rely on charity this once, no use walking back!



"It's we who need to thank, sir!" Flax proclaims, as you cross the doorstep. "We had a few unfortunate episodes along the way, worse off we'd be, and unfathomably so, without your kindness."

"Eh, you'll tell me all about it, your travels!" says the man. "Worry not about me, I've got kipper to spare!"

That much you can confirm, as the room you pass has all manners of coffers, barrels standing and nets hanging from the ceiling. The essence of fish permeates throughout the dwelling, having one more space to offer, a chamber you're being led to.



Inside the dormitory, every corner has something to offer, a hearth, four beds nearby, a pair of chests, and a dining table with a couple seats by, one a woman occupies, standing up on your arrival.

"Lay the table, lay the hides, Ule!" the host cries, and sits down beside her place. "This Ule, my daughter-in-law. I am Gisla the elder, once a dedicated headlopper, now a fisherman extraordinaire. Make yourselves at home."



You assume a chair each, as you've been bid to. After a long time, you see the men take away their helmets, the host is quick to stand up just to put those aside for you.

"Well now! Tell me about you. Where you're headed, where you've been."

"The lands of the Union are our destination." Flax takes the reins of your introduction, and better for it. You'll gladly pass on such a responsibility, given you're not sure what's allowed to say. "Just across the mountains, it is where I come from. I am Cegad, and these are my companions."

Though eager to listen, it wasn't until the range getting mentioned that old Gisla caught on. With his hand ever twisting he urges your guide to carry on.

"This is Sas, a hunter hailing from the northern champaigns, err..."



"Umexugot." the bowman clarifies, and to this your host responds, throwing a gesture of recognition, as if a jest from a long time friend he acknowledged.

"Here rests Blackhoof, a great magician from the wilds beyond. Melalesno, and the sort."

Your presence intrigues the elder profoundly, with great interest he gazes upon your image.

"Wild as the forest whence you came, mylord, but grand twice as much, akin to kings!" he proclaims. "Well built too, yours might they could use around the place! Like the river-child of Ohidlurit, send my regards, should your paths ever cross."



Then towards the vagrant Flax turns, and wavers.

"Lastly, there is..."



"Thran." you declare. Sas smiles at you and nods, the maiden's head snaps to face you, but likewise says nothing. That Flax takes care of.

"...the vagrant, whose homeland we do not know. Nevertheless, a great help she is, bold and resourceful. A true blessing for our cause."

"Not one bit like them large lads, but nonetheless fine!" Gisla comments. "Good companions you have, mylord, good indeed. Somewhere from the towns I'd wager, this one, ey? And, the food's arrived, would you care for something to drink?"



A question quite silly you find, but apparently, you're missing something.

"Don't mind if we do, such a proposal we cannot refuse." answers Flax, prompting the woman in the back room again, but the meal she gets to serve beforehand. Two smoked denizens of the deeps, divided between your party, and although it's not much, the quality you have to appreciate after meandering through the wilderness for so long. The old man moves his seat back to the wall, so you all can access the fish.

Next, the cups are brought, not filled to the brim, but recognizing the honey within, the bewilderment is cleared up, this is not to drive thirst away.



"Umexugot..." ponders Gisla, as his feeble fingers wrap 'round the beverage like a python. "That's quite a trip, surely you must have seen a lot of places, well? Cheers!"



As he hurls the shot down his throat, Flax passes a deliberate look at you three. So far, everything went well, now it is, when the whole ordeal gets interesting...

[TeaKing]

considering that we were walking on foot, and away from roads, its not surprising that news of what happened back in that city spread faster than we could move

anyway, i gotta say that i really love your artwork, Quaksna
it has improved quite fast and quite a lot from... whatever the first picture you drew of blackhoof was

[King Zultan]

This seems like a situation where we must be careful, might not want to tell these people to much stuff they don't need to know.

anyway, i gotta say that i really love your artwork, Quaksna
it has improved quite fast and quite a lot from... whatever the first picture you drew of blackhoof was

I've noticed the quality gets better with every update, and just imagine what it'll look like this time next year.