Zander joins Verik in pursuit and calls out, "You're right. We should get to the bottom of this." Looking back at Taisper, he is a bit disappointed that the man has gone back to using his crossbow rather than his new longbow.
As the group follows the stag's path, it occasionally seems to stop and look back at them, giving the slower group an opportunity to catch back up. Before they get too close, it darts off again. After nearly an hour of this, they are considerably off the path that they returned from the bandit camp. As they stumble into a clearing in the forest, the stag stops suddenly.
A statue, 15 feet high, stands in the middle of the clearing. It is clearly a statue to Erastil, abandoned for many years. Nearly overtaken by overgrowth, it shows the god as a man with the head of a stag and a bow in hand, pointing the bow to the southwest.
Brought up short by this sight, the first thing Taisper asks is "...what's southwest of here? Do we have any idea?" He dismounts then and walks up to the statue and begins clearing off what he can of the weeds and dirt. "Erastil's ways aren't mine, but the Keeper would approve of helping an ally." Noticing the bow in the statue's hand, Taisper looks with a bit of embarrassment at the crossbow he loaded out of sheer force of habit. He shakes his head and slings it back over his back, loosening his new bow so it's easier to get in position.
He then continues cleaning what he can of the statue.
Dismounting his horse and looking at the map, Zander says, "It looks like the forest continues in that direction over a low hill. It's not part of our planned course, but I think we have enough supplies that we could include that area in our exploration if we want. If we did, I'd suggest heading there first and then moving into the montains and through the grasslands back to Oleg's."
"Well it's definetly a waymark." Berrin mutters as he looks up at the statue. "Maybee we should start foraging to save rations Zander? Just in case our journey prolongs."
Turning to Berrin, Zander considers the man's words and replies, "I think the rations we have will hold. If we run out we can forage, but I don't see a need to slow ourselves down yet."
"I think we can start hunting and foraging when our supplies run low - and focus on exploring efficiently until then." Jemini stares at the statue for a while; taking it in from different angles for a few minutes at a time. Then she helps Taisper clear the statue from the forest detritus.
"It's clearly here as a form of waymarker for Erastil - in fact, Erastil himself might have led the stag across our path. I think we should take the hint and follow the statue's advice. Maybe there is a forgotten hunter's lodge, or druid grove, or shrine to Erastil down that way."
Taisper, grunting as he uses his dagger to slice the thick vines off the statue asks over his shoulder; "'Waymark'? Berrin you mean this statue is like a...like a street sign? For the forest? Maybe?" An idea strikes the young Inquisitor. Standing back, he speaks quietly in celestial and his eyes begin to glow gold as he focuses on the statue and the area around it.
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Verik frowns at the statue, Erastil is both ally and antithesis to Abadar, an uneasy mix. He turns to the stag, "Do you want us to head for where the statue points or are we where we need to be already?" He asks the creature, assuming it to be a servant of Erastil, but still feeling faintly ridiculous talking to a horny deer.
Jemini attempts to climb up the pedestal and peers towards where the figure points.
Berrin scratches his head as the group tries various antics with the statue, Taispar talking in a strange language before his eyes start to glow, Vetik talking to the stag and now Jemini climbing the statue. "Do you rekon thers a hidden message there? I mean, besides the direction the statue is pointing? Oh! Maybe it's a riddle! We're probably suposed to go the other way." Berrin calls up to Jemini.
Turning to Zander he shakes his head and looks at the map with him. "The route looks good. Shall we press on?" he asks, casting nervous glances at the party members.
The stag serenely ambles up to the expedition, staring at Verik. For a moment, the cleric expects the stag to simply open its mouth and speak. The stag pulls on his pack, tugging it with an antler. One of the tents tumbles out onto the clearing floor.
As Taisper uses detect magic on the statue, it glows faintly with an ancient spell, probably a long-forgotten transmutation. When he looks to the side, the stag's aura nearly blinds him. He lets out a strangled sound of surprise, drawing the others' attention.
Jemini is unable to see past the trees that circle the clearing. Whatever the statue points to, it isn't close.
"What? We should camp here?"
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Verik dismounts, giving Virtue a sour look. Why can't you be a hyper intelligent horse servant of Abadar? Stupid horse, Erastil's making us look like chumps.
"It would be rude to ignore what I suspect is a divine invitation." Cautiously, looking to the stag for reaction, he takes the tent and begins to set it up.
Zander looks up at the sky pondering the invitation. "It is getting somewhat late and it is unlikely that we'll be able to find a better place to camp so that sounds fine to me," he says to no one in particular as he joins Verik in setting up the tents.
Taisper, lying on his back in the grass with his palms pressed against his eyes, makes a strangled noise.
"*glerglnnk*"
"..."
"..."
He puts his hands down and props himself up on his elbows.
"Uh...so...the stag is pretty powerfully magical. Magicked. You know what I mean. The statue has an aura about it as well, but that guy..." He indicates Verik's new horn'd friend. "...that guy is something else entirely."
The stag lays down at the base of the statue, simply watching them as they set up camp. Its serene behavior is incredibly calming. It subtly encourages them to clean the statue and to set up camp. The day settles into afternoon and into dusk as the expedition prepares for the evening. The mood is friendly and relaxed, as the six adventurers and their new stag friend enjoy each other's company.
Taisper does a passable job of cleaning the statue's base, assisted by the others. The stag seems to nod when they finish, pleased with their efforts. Settling into the evening, the group starts a small campfire with their tents in a circle, enjoying the chance to be off of horseback. They laugh and tell stories, including a particularly lascivious one told by Berrin that makes Verik completely unable to look anyone in the eye for about an hour. Taisper, of course, promptly memorizes it and begins re-telling it to Verik as soon as the cleric's embarrassment fades.
It is a good night, deep in a forest in the Stolen Lands.
Zander takes first watch, quietly enjoying the time spent with friends. Taisper and Verik's tent is a little noisy with Verik shushing Taisper's attempts to tell late-night jokes. Berrin snores alone in the tent he is to share with Zander, taking up most of the room. Jemini and Tandlara are quiet in their tent, sleeping soundly.
As they sleep, the world awakens in a burst of color. The six find themselves standing together at the base of the statue, staring at the night sky above. The sky is aflame with meteors streaking across the sky in saturated hues of red, green, and gold. The stars twinkle with intense flashes of light, bathing them in irregular light.
Standing with them is a tall man with the head of a stag, the very embodiment of Erastil himself. He is at least twice as tall as the members of the expedition and is dressed in a warrior's grab with his bow in hand. He points his bow again to the southwest, just as the statue does. He speaks without moving his lips or looking down at the group.
In a flash, the group finds themselves standing together in a simple outdoor temple to Erastil. Like most of Old Deadeye's temples, it is a spartan set of wooden walls around the base of an old tree. The tree's base is situated in a semi-circular natural amphitheater surrounded on its sides by a stone outcropping. A dying bear lays on the tree, its blood mixing over the antler mark of Erastil that serves as a holy symbol. A Taldan cleric stands above the dying bear holding the knife used to slit its throat. He shouts to no one in particular, "Hear my plea, gods of the Old World! Bring peace to these lands!" A moment of silence fills the air, followed by a slow thunder of the moving earth. A terrible voice, seemingly made of thousands of smaller voices, answers: "As you wish, druid." The land explodes in an earthquake, bringing the temple apart and its walls down.
The six awaken suddenly, back at the statue. Dawn has broken through the night, light beginning to reach them. Zander lays at the base of the statue while the others awake in their own tent. The stag is gone, vanished without a trace.
Waking with a start, Zander looks around, gathering in his surroundings. Looking up at the statue, he remembers the "dream" and shudders. 'So that was Erastil... an impressive deity, but I imagine most of them are when they visit you in your sleep... I know many of the farmers in Brevoy gave him their worship...' Pondering the night's events, he whispers a quiet prayer to the old god of the hunt as the others emerge from their tents to face the new day.
As Jemini crawls out of the tent she notices the expression on her companions faces. "I believe we share something in common now, other than the charter." She looks to the south-west. We cannot ignore this.
Tandlara crawls out after Jemini, looking blearily confused.
'That was, uh, quite the experience.'
The elven witch is quite shaken and you get the distinct impression that this is not something she has ever experienced before, which seems to put her on edge.
She stands up fully and goes to walk around the statue. 'In the dream, what ritual was that man trying to accomplish I wonder? He was not calling to Erastil, but something older. I don't think he meant Gozreh in the plural sense either.'
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Verik frowns, "Well it seems clear we need to see this temple at any rate, perhaps this ritual desecrated it? Or... Well at any rate it would be disrespectful to ignore a gods call. Even if it was a tad showy for my taste."
As the camp stirs the young cleric inclines his head respectfully to the statue of Erastil before turning his back upon it and crossing his legs beneath him on his bedroll and closing his eyes to pray.
Dear Abadar,
Well Erastil called upon us last night - as I am sure you are aware. A strange and unsettling experience. We will of course lend our aide though I am unsure exactly what the vision we were shown depicted, but I am inclined to agree with Tandlara that given the circumstances the ritual was not of Erastils.
More puzzling still is the undeniable resemblance of the Stag Lord to Erastils aspect. Does he mock Erastil? A bandit surely cannot believe himself a true follower...
Jemini agrees with Verik: "I think you're right. Whoever we saw performing that ritual looked desperate. It didn't seem like he knew what he was getting himself into - or was really desperate beyond measure." She looks directly at Verik. "Showy?" She begins to laugh, teasing "Are you a bit jealous maybe?"
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"Jealous, his heralds a deer. I mean I suppose its all very well for a," Verik glances at the statue looming above him and apparently rethinks what he is about to say, settling for instead, "woodsey deity. But well hardly what I would call divinely magnificent, I mean sure its on theme, but... Well its no hippogriff is all I am saying."
Muttering to himself he gathers up his gear and fetches Virtue, saying fondly "Whose a stupid poop machine? Yes you are!" As he gives the dappled grey gelding a good brushing before tacking him up.
"Right on to the desecrated forest temple with optional rotting bear stink." He says a tad ungraciously.
"Showy. Not showy enough. Is that how you feel about other things too that aren't Abadar's own? Am I too showy? Or should I show more?" Jemini chuckles as she crawls back into the tent to get her gear and put on her armor.
"Right right a woman's place is not to talk," she grins as she fastens the armor buckles, "Don't worry - Abadar is going to give you your own personal revelation once we have a thriving community going here in the outback." Men... always about whose is bigger.
Tandlara smiles at Jemini teasing Verik.
'You disarm that boy more than he lets on, and he's no stony faced man of silence,' she says to the paladin as they gather their gear together and dismantle their shared tent.
When all is packed she whispers to Riddleskin, waking him up and informing him of the events that happened. The old rat meerly blinks in the bright light with a rodent scowl.
She saddles up Avanasatra and mounts him quickly. Ready to join Verik on the way south.
'I wonder what those voices where? Demons perhaps? Or other spirits? The indictment of Erastil's worshippers' spirits? I guess we'll soon see.'
Jemini rides with an excited anticipation. Finally something more aufregend than bandits! A vision from a god no less! I was right to pick up this charter. A grin sits on her features which is entirely unwilling to leave. She looks right, to Taisper "Hey Taisper! Don't you have a song for us? Or something else to distract your cousin? We're on an adventure now! Are you feeling it? Maybe you can tell that story with the two nuns again."
Zander keeps mostly quiet as he helps the party pack up camp. As he's rolling up his bedroll and stuffing it into his pack, he looks again at the statue of the ancient god and feels a tingle run through his spine as he examines the statue's longbow - Even though age has worn the stone, he can tell it is a depiction of a magnificent weapon. His reverie is interupted by the sound of horses as he realizes his fellow party members are nearly fully packed. Hastily, he shoves the remainder of his bedding into his backpack and climbs atop his horse.
As the party sets out, Zander rides near the rear of the column for a bit before spurring his horse forward alongside Verik. Thinking for a moment longer, he finally says to the priest, "Verik, what do you know of Erastil? I've met a few of his worshippers in my travels, but have never really encountered any of his clergy or read any of his texts. What is he like? I know he's venerated as the god of the hunt, but what else is he all about?"
Taisper has been oddly distracted all morning, moving like a man under an enchantment. His face is frozen in a mask of wonderment and exultation; half a smile is frozen on his lips and his eyes are wide, and are not losing that strange shine they sometimes get, but which usually fades after mere minutes.
He did his usual morning exercises, and if they were more vigorous than usual no one made any comment. He practiced with his bow against a fallen tree for as long as he felt he could justify without causing the party any delay. While his shooting was still inconsistent, he was feeling more comfortable with the weapon, and understood now the great value in not needing to waste so much time reloading. As he tied his things down, he stowed his crossbow in his saddlebag, now wearing only the bow in addition to his usual weapons.
At Jemini's prodding, Taisper looks around distractedly, as if he only caught the last few words. "...wh-? Oh, hey Jemini! Hey good morning. What, er...what's going on?" do any of them understand everything is real the doubters were all so wrong the gods themsleves speak to me and speak through me "Nuns? Yeah, nuns...hahaa. I love that one!" I AM THE HAMMER OF THE LAWGIVER the priests and my teachers were right i am the masters hands oh Keeper i always knew it was true i felt your divine word "Nuns...heh...there were two nuns...and they were painting...and they couldn't...get paint on their...uh, their ha-...their clothes...and then a blind man..." we will aid Erastil as you must have commanded i am Justified now i am Sanctified i am an extension of your will wield me as you wish "...and he, uh he was in the room and they were...and he was there to hang the blinds, not really blind..."focus focus focus focus the mission there is a mission you must focus now TAISPER come back to your senses the Master is always there the Keeper is your heart quail not you will succeed it is written by the gods in writing like stars...
There is a pause. The flat, gold shine leaves Taisper's eyes and he seems to see Jemini for the first time. "Hi Jemini! Hey, what's going on? We're all still headin' southwest, right? That's great!"
Berrin remains quiet for a while after waking, not daring to move a muscle he stares into nothingness. 'What the..' feeling calmes and more serene than he can recolect he is unsure how to proceed with himself. Lying there seems perfectly fine, but so does moving.
Peeking out of his tent he takes in the beutifull morning, eyeing his companions ase they do their thing he makes his way outside. Doning his armor in silence he mearly smiles and nods as theyr direction is discussed. 'Of course we will go to the temple.' there is no doubt in his mind.
The horses' hooves clap against the rocky ground as they approach familiar territory only a few miles from Kressle's camp. The cool air of early spring in the north nips at their skin and keeps them alert as they pass through the area on horseback. After a few hours, they arrive at Kressle's camp, largely in the same state that they left it in.
Overhearing the conversation between Zander and Verik regarding Erastil, Jemini pipes in, "I've always pictured Erastil and Abadar as grudging friends. They both represent civilization, but they don't intrude on each others domains. Erastil covers civilization in nature - farming, hunting, domestication. Abadar represents a culmination of civilization into culture and cities."
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Verik sighs, "Well, he is a god of small communities, hunting, trading chickens for firewood, that sort of thing. He's an old god, backwards even, doesn't like the idea of proper civilization wants everyone to live in small communities. Worthy enough in the Age of Darkness I am sure, but not a god for the modern world. They say he crafted the first bow and gave it to mankind, but apparently he wanted us to stay at that level of technology and refrain from fulfilling our true potential."
"Abadar and him are uneasy allies at best, our values are different from theirs. Erastil's followers actively resist civilization, preferring rustic hovels to soaring spires, and small communities that can be swept aside like chaff in the wind to great cities where art and culture can soar to their fullest potential. Many followers of Erastil will not even enter a city."
Verik's eyes shine and he sits straighter as he continues, "Abadar on the other hand is a god who would see potential fulfilled, see us reach for the heights we are capable of. A god of great works, of progress, of law, and of craftsmanship. Abadar's was the hand that guided all the races to civilization, he did not just give us a stick with a bit of string on it, he gave us everything that has seen us claw our way from savages to modern man."
"And while neither avenue is perfect, the great cities have their problems I am sure we are all aware, Abadar advocates improvement and refinement, whereas old Dead Eye would have us shackled to the old ways. For all that he is worthy Erastil is a fading god who fails to move with the times."
Verik is silent for a moment before he adds, "But you will probably get all misty eyed because he's an archer. I've never understood making spiritual choices based on what kind of pointy implement your deity wields." He scowls back at Taisper, "Although some people apparently do not care about giving up their deities favored weapon for that of another god."
Listening intently as Verik turns his answer into a bit of a sermon, Zander replies, "I don't care much for what weapon a man or a god uses; it's what he does with it that counts. I can see value in some of the teachings of both Abadar and Erastil, but I would argue that not all men seek to live in bustling cities - there is a certain peacefulness to be found in nature that those who spend all of their days behind stone walls will never know."
Scratching his neck as he speaks, he goes on, "I admit, I'm not as learned as yourself, but when I was a boy I remember many men who gave their prayers to Abadar for no reason aside from fattening their own coffers. Nothing against your faith, but I don't believe I could worship alongside men like that. The people I've known who venerate Erastil have been good hard-working people of the land - farmers and hunters mostly. Though the worshippers of Abadar may build and maintain great cities, I believe it is still the worshippers of Erastil who put the food on their tables and that the cities could not exist without these men and women. I'm not trying to refute you or anything, but I think that you're a wiser man than to ignore that both Abadar and Erastil are working as different means to the same end of forming a more perfect civilization."
Pausing for a moment, Zander takes a breath and continues, "I have a friend back in Brevoy who is an Oracle of the Goddess Milani; that's sort of how I ended up here in the first place really... My friend had a vision, it sounds kind of silly to say, but he saw a future where I had founded a nation - and not just me, he said that there were others with me," Looking around at the faces of his companions, Zander smiles softly as he goes on, "I don't know if it's true, but I think that it might have been you guys he was talking about and I don't know if we really are to found a nation, but if we did, I think it would be important to take both points of view into account, of Erastil and Abadar I mean, and definitely a good dose of Milani's teachings alongside."
Jemini listened intently to Verik's words - but she nods her head vigorously to Zander's. "I confess, I am not very familiar with Milani. And as you already know I've not given myself to one god, but several. I cannot really imagine founding a nation that does not lean on many gods. What would we do with out the compassion of Sarenrae? The resolution of Iomedae? Or the quiet will of Irori?"
She looks to Verik and Zander - "If we're to form a nation - I would have it free from any one creed. A nation as varied and colorful as a rainbow." Jemini's eyes glow and flicker as if she sees a future that is worth striving for.
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"Ah, but you see that is not Erastil's creed, Abadar does not wish to cobble the world - though I confess I have had the thought a time or two. No follower of Abadar would refuse to set foot in the countryside - well at least not for religious reasons. But Erastil actively opposes civilization. And I must disagree that it is followers of Erastil who feed the cities, it is big farms owned by business men, and nobles that supply the majority of produce. Subsistence farming is what Erastil truly advocates and that offers up little beyond feeding ones own family. Verik waves his morningstar for emphasis as he speaks.
"The problem with Erastil's world view is that it is short sighted, if the civilized races dwelt only in the manner he advocates we would have been swept away long since by the more bestial races. A man's strength is no match for that of an orc, for the most part, or an ogre. Our strength comes from civilization, from the bonds that hold us together, beyond family and community, to nation, and people. Civilization allows for specialization, for artists, for warriors, for chefs, and cobblers. We have too great a tendency to look back upon the rustic and simple with misty eyed fondness. They have their place, but progress does move forward and make lives better."
"As for greedy men following Abadar, yes I have seen such, I will not deny it. But think what those men are endorsing and having reinforced to them by their worship of Abadar. Law, fairness, and order - as well as proper taxation. I have never seen a case where the merchants prospering did not help the people. Commerce is a wonderful thing, especially if it is guided and channeled into great works and charity as well as to elevating those who succeed in it."
"But I do agree that an inclusive approach to religion is preferable. I would convert people to the worship of Abadar through reason not have him be the only choice. As to building nations, we are getting rather ahead of ourselves. I have always wished to build a city though... One of our holiest texts is The Manual of City Building, the possibilities to build upon what has been done before and surpass it."
Tandlara whistles softly to herself as the others discuss Gods, the way they see gods and worship is nearly alien to her and she doesn't really have any interest in dicussing their merits. Abadar, ick, not for me I think.
She watches carefully around them, on the lookout for danger or anything out of the ordinary.
The theological debates continue as they explore the area around Kressle's camp. It is a hilly region of hard rocks with hardly more vegetation than brush trees, a stark contrast to the lush forest just a few miles away. A few creeks snake through the area from pools emptying into the Thorn River. A few small mammals flit around the area as they pass through on their horses. Berrin's horse seemingly gets flustered whenever near rabbits, nearly tossing him at one point when a hare hops across their path at top speed.
A few hours into their exploration, about three miles south of the river, the expedition begins to hear a strange rumbling. Tandlara picks up on it first, her elven senses detecting something out of place in the natural order. Zander, speaking to her in the front of the group, notices as she seems to zone out suddenly. The alarm ripples through the group, their senses coming together as a team.
Their suspicions are confirmed when three small earth elementals burst from the ground. Their bodies appear similar to small dogs made of stone and earth, glittering gemstones from the ground where their eyes should be. They gurgle something in some planar language, sounding a bit like "Tekthuktangan!" They clearly do not look friendly, advancing in the slow and steady fashion of earth elementals towards the group.
"What in the hells?! Where'd these things come from?" exclaims Zander in surprise as the rocky little dog monsters advance on his position.
Climbing down from his horse and stepping forward, Zander levels his bow at the nearest elemental and fires off a shot,
landing a glancing blow on the creature's hindquarters and chipping away a bit of stone.
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Verik dismounts and steps to the side as he readies his shield, "You have me Zander, but whatever they are they do not look friendly!"
The young cleric is not sure what to make of this strange foe, but is gladdened that he will not be spilling blood. Whatever the truth, it is easy to dismiss these creatures as lacking the spark of life and the young cleric feels none of his usual queaziness in facing them.
Tandlara stays mounted atop Avansantra, her face a display of anger, lips curled back from her teeth. She barks words heavy with omen and portent, but no runes come into existence around her arms, she meerly ends the curse pointing at the elemental Zander had attacked.
yes send them to me send them to me YOU/I JUDGE THEM agents of disorder Taisper hops down off his horse and prepares his shield, getting his defenses in order first. "So then we should maybe mark this a no-picnic area on the map, huh? Or maybe 'watch for rising rock.' Get it? You know, instead of 'falling rock?'"