Nico ignores the food-related banter and dismounts from his horse.
The massive boar comes crashing out of the woods.
In the few seconds to spare before it reaches you, Arliss quickly attempts to gather Balter, Durielle, and Marisol's horses to the far side of the group.
Nico pulls a small pit of rhubarb leaf and a small bit of an unrecognizable, rubbery substance from his pouch. He concentrates for a second, then casts a spell that sends a black, seemingly fluid arrow into the rushing boar.
Vladimir attempts to quickly dismount Shadow, but the haft of the longspear gets tangled up in Shadow's reins, costing Vladimir a few precious seconds. Getting clear of his mount, Vladimir notices the boar has chosen him as his first target.
Vladimir then sets his spear, preparing for the boars charge.
(reach & brace properties)
(brace)
Round 1
Seeing Arliss appear to take Whisper's reins, the oracle also attempts to slip from the saddle with haste.
But her traveling robe catches on the saddle horn preventing a smooth dismount.
As she tugs on her robe Durielle's vision suddenly splinters, and she sees a future moment of the large boar crashing into Vladimir with a terrible ferocity and trampling his body. Gasping at the horror of the image she turns instinctively reaching for any chance within the coming seconds which reduces the chance of that outcome. She summons the mysterious power given to her and tries to force one of the more favorable futures onto the current timeline. She knows she will need to touch Vladimir's physical body to manifest the best chance, so she gathers up the moments of time without releasing them until she can reach him.
With her cutlass drawn and held low in one hand, Marisol waits for the boar's inevitable charge.
Turning his swords over in his hands, Balter eyes the boar, anticipating the path of its charge. He takes a step closer to Vladimir, ready to strike once the beast comes into range.
The boar picks up speed as it charges. As it nears you see scars, and snapped arrows or bolts.. left by hunters who'd failed to fell it before. Nico's arcane missiles strike it, then Marisol's fiery rays. It lets out a screeching bellow but continues. Balter's blade and Vladimir's spear hack and pierce into its hide simultaneously. Though its legs no longer carry it, the momentum of its bulk pushes into Shadow, but causes no injury. The boar lets out one last weak exhale before dying at your feet.
Noting the scars and size of the now dead boar, Vladimir comments, "I think we might have another prize to bring back to Oleg's with us. Unless I am mistaken, which is certainly still on the table, this is the boar that poster at Oleg's called Tuskgutter."
Nico grins. "He'll be pleased to learn that it, uh, only took four people to kill it."
Vladimir laughs. "One can not be too careful I suppose. On a more serious note though, if this is Tuskgutter, this beast is responsible for taking a man's leg...the man who put up the poster I believe, or least sent it to Oleg's to be posted anyway."
"That was Tuskgutter?" Balter asks dubiously, wiping the blood off his sword. "I guess it would have been more dangerous if we had happened upon it earlier. But now..." The ranger wrinkles his nose at the scent of the boar's charred flesh.
Marisol sheathes her cutlass and draws her dagger, then crouches down by the stabbed and crispy corpse. "Well, are we bringing the whole thing back, or just the head? If we camp here for a day I can smoke much of the meat and we can carry it, otherwise we should truss it and bring it back."
Vladimir smirks as he responds to Balter, "Well, it did take two blasts of arcane magic, one of your sword swings, and it running headlong into a set longspear to bring it down...fate favored us this time, it could have gone much worse."
Turning to Marisol, "The wanted poster asked specifically for the head, so I say we camp here for the evening and head out in the morning." Vladimir says, cleaning the gore off of his spear.
His opinion known, Vladimir begins looking for a good location to set up the tent.
Durielle lets a sigh of relief escape her lips as she allows the moments slip from her fingers and reassert themselves back wherever stolen moments go.
She looks at the large old boar.
"That's going to be some tough ham."
"Fair enough," Balter says with a shrug, conceding to Vladimir's point. "Your average hunter isn't exactly armed to the teeth."
"Camping here is fine by me, in any case."
Nico surveys the dead boar. Good gods, it looks like a charred pin cushion. He looks down at the ground and shakes his head before looking up to Vladimir and Balter.
"As long as there's not a, um, Mrs. Tuskgutter."
Balter chuckles at Nico's remark.
"Trust me, this guy probably rutted a few dozen Mrs. Tuskgutters in his time. I highly doubt we'll have to worry about them, though."
The night passes without incident. In the morning you continue your trek to Oleg's - crossing the Thorn at the old bandit camp a couple hours before noon. You reach the radish patch about six hours later. A very light and fine-flaked snow comes about this time as the air grows colder.
"We can get to Oleg's if we press on from here, but it'll be after dark," says Marisol. She brings up the fur-lined hood of her winter cloak. "I'm fine with pushing it in the dark if everyone else is. We should have sufficient magical light."
"I think that sounds like a fine idea." Vladimir says. "Even getting there late, it would be nice to sleep inside, and in a bed for that matter."
"No objections here, though I'll need to stop briefly in the next few hours to, uh, change horses before this one disappears out from under me."
You arrive at Oleg's late at night. Oleg comes to greet you. Though he says he was awake, his current state suggest he'd been fast asleep already. "Wasn't expecting to see you so soon. How fares the wild?"
Budgie trots over to stable your horses, and punches Arliss in the arm in a fraternal greeting. Arliss offers his reins.. Budgie grins "Oh.. too good to stable your own now, eh brother?"
"Everything is well. To be honest, Oleg, we had not anticipated coming back this soon, but we happened across a few things that simply would not keep." he says, dismounting and walking over to reveal the Tatzlwyrm head and the head of Tuskgutter.
"I know you had been wanting one of these." Vladimir says, gesturing toward the dragon's head.
"Plenty more odd beasts out there, if you want more heads to hang on your walls," Balter jokes halfheartedly, clearly looking a bit tired himself. He doesn't even bother to stifle his yawn.
Marisol says, "Also, the opportunity to sleep in an actual bed again was just too tempting. Besides, these would start to stink up if we stayed out to long. We have some wonderful ribs and pork chops, if you're so inclined for tomorrow's lunch."
"Your hospitality is always appreciated, Oleg, but it has been a long day and we have already disturbed your sleep. If you will tell us where you would like the heads we will unload them and then get a bit of rest ourselves." Vladimir says.
Turning to his companions, "Think if there is anything you might need for the rest of our journey, after we leave here again, I doubt we will be back again until spring."
Having said his peace, Vladimir proceeds to do just as he had said, unloading the two heads before heading inside to clean up a bit and heading for his room for the night. "Rest well, my friends."
Turning to Marisol, he adds gesturing toward the door to the room, "After you, my love."
"Ha! It's a beauty! Thank you. Let me get you your reward... I have Vekkel's reward here for Old Tuskgutter as well."
Marisol busies herself with reorganizing some of her cookware and unpacking it for cleaning on the morrow, but is clearly ready to get some rest at this late hour.
"Thank you, dear," she says to Vlad. "Ugh, let's not start too early tomorrow." She stifles a yawn.
"No worries, my love. I think we have all earned a good night's rest, and late morning." Vladimir says with a smile.
Nico, who has been silent since arriving, watches the exchange through very tired and bloodshot eyes. At one point, he is just staring blankly without moving, apparently dozing off while sitting up, but he catches himself and rubs his eyes and face in an attempt to stay awake long enough to make it to bed.
When Vladimir and Marisol head off to their room, Nico stands up slowly, stretches, then retires as well. On his way out he mumbles something that is not entirely coherent, but the words "don't let me sleep through lunch" come through clearly enough.
Durielle watches Marisol and Vladimir walk away with an oddly mysterious expression. She glances at Nico when he mutters his weary announcement and bids him well in his rest. Arliss and Budgie take Whisper and the rest of the mounts to the stables laughing good-naturedly if a bit lewdly with some glances in the direction of the currently amorous party members. Oleg has taken possession of the trophies and moves away to begin their treatments needed to preserve things until they can be properly handled for their separate but no less final endings. Arliss seems to be regaling Budgie with something that he clearly eats right up. Durielle shakes her head to change what begins to appear as the possibilities of their conversation begin to surface. "Fu-fu," she mumbles, a little color appearing on her pale features.
Find herself alone with Balter, she regards the half-elf ranger's yawn with disappointment.
"I take it you are to bed then as well, Balter Farshadow?" she queries. "I find myself more wakeful than my friends this day. Is there any chance you would be willing to share some meats and cheeses and perhaps a tankard of ale with me before retiring?"
"I was planning on it," Balter admits, letting out another, smaller yawn. He at least bothers to cover this one up. The half-elf then looks over at Durielle, giving her a lopsided grin. "But I'm not about to turn down an invitation like that. Thanks to our two lovebirds, I'll be sleeping in... so I think I can stay awake for a while longer."
Once they've found their food and ale, Balter sits down and stretches out his back. He takes a long draught from his tankard and slowly sets it down before speaking.
"A copper for your thoughts?" he asks, quickly dropping his joking tone as he goes on. "You've been a bit quiet lately. Not terribly unusual or anything, but, well..."
He gives her a small shrug. "You know."
Durielle smiles as Balter chooses to join her, and she approaches Svetlana or one of those former bandit helpers to procure the victuals she promised him. Settled in, the oracle begins to sample the meats as Balter takes his time with a long swallow of beer.
Durielle regards Balter after he shows his interest in her contemplations.
"My thoughts? I find myself thinking about you," she says her silver eyes gleaming with that inner light. She pauses and nibbles on a piece of cheese.
"No copper required. Rather..." Durielle fishes around in her belt pouch while holding her cheese between her lips and produces a copper of her own. She tosses it at Balter. "I'd like to know about you."
She cocks her head as she tears off a tiny piece of bread.
"I feel as if I know more about your potential future than I do your past. And if there is one thing I've learned," the oracle's voice softens, "One can never understand where one is going without knowing how one arrived there."
She watches Balter with some intensity but clearly some nervousness as well. "I-I know it is rude to pry, and I understand if you decline. But I feel as if you and I are...well, maybe it's just simpler to say, I'd like to believe you are beginning to trust me more. You keep the others at a bit of a distance, but I...I would like to know you better if you'll permit it."
Durielle's gaze flicks away, and she fidgets with her bread.
"I realize it can't be easy keeping my company. Always left to wonder what I can see, and what it means I know about you. That cannot feel comfortable." She once again raises her eyes to meet the ranger's. "I'd much rather what I know of you be what you have felt secure in telling me yourself, so you have no reason to scowl and worry. And I will, of course, offer you my confidence and silence when you require it of me. Any questions you have of me will be answered in kind."
The oracle watches Balter earnestly, her fingers nervously tearing smalls pieces from the bread and dropping them on the ground.
"So I've been on your mind, have I?" Balter teases when he catches the coin, but it almost sounds forced. He listens to Durielle's earnest request without breaking eye contact, his expression subtly shifting through a spectrum of emotions. When she finishes he quietly regards the copper piece for a few seconds, his brow furrowing as he wrestles with something intangible. Eventually coming to a decision, he closes his hand around the coin, clutching it in a fist.
"So just saying that I trust you isn't enough," he says finally, lowering his hand. It sounds less like an annoyed accusation and more like a stated fact. "You need something more than that. Or maybe you just deserve more than that." The ranger sighs, running a hand through his hair. "All right, fine. Just... give me a moment to think of where to begin."
Balter leans back and gives it some more thought, hesitating only once before starting.
"I guess it should go without saying that what I told you all back then wasn't completely true. It wasn't really a lie, either. We're not the first people that have tried to settle these lands, you know. Just thirty years ago, they tried to tame the Stolen Lands. They tried and they failed. For the most part, anyway. Once the nobles from Brevoy shoved off, trade dried up. Only the most stubborn folks stayed behind to pick up the pieces. That's where settlements like Elmere cropped up. And then you had the people who knew how to live of the fat of the land... like my parents.
A smile touches his mouth, like the one he had when they were traveling through the Narlmarches.
"I was born here. Well, not here, precisely, but you know. My mother and father met by pure chance - they must have both been going for the whole 'hermit in the woods' thing, but they must not have been very good at it. Because before long, I happened. Accidentally, I'm sure."
""So just saying that I trust you isn't enough," he says finally, lowering his hand. It sounds less like an annoyed accusation and more like a stated fact.
"That's not wha-" Durielle starts raising one hand, but she quiets as Balter goes on clearly so off-balance he doesn't even notice she spoke.
As he confesses what he suspects of his birth, Durielle allows a small smile to grace her lips.
Balter pauses to smirk at Durielle, if only to let her know that he had been teasing her again. Well, for the most part. He bites off a piece of cheese before continuing.
"They never got married, or anything like that. Not that I know of, anyway. But they were both always there to take care of me. It shouldn't be a big surprise that almost everything I know about surviving out in the wild, I learned from them. I can count on one hand the number of times we sought out other settlers for trade. Maybe that made it harder on ourselves, but that's just the way we liked to live. It was nice. Peaceful, even."
The half-elf grimaces, realizing that he has already reached the part of his story that he was most reluctant to speak of. Rather than stopping, he decides to settle for abridgment.
"I was still a few years short of manhood when they... died. I was suddenly left with nothing to remember them by but their lessons, our cabin, and a few mementos." He pointedly tugs on his cloak of elvenkind. "For a while, I was too damn afraid to leave the cabin... but I guess the solitude eventually took its toll on me. By then, the place had stopped feeling like home. So... I left."
Durielle absorbs this for a moment while examining Balter's face. She swallows a sip of her ale.
"Was their death the reason...the reason for why you hate those kind so much?" she asks softly.
Balter grimaces even at Durielle's indirect reference, but after a moment he nods slowly. "Yeah," he says simply.
He considers speaking more on the subject, but decides to leave it at that for the time being.
"I might've mentioned it before, but this isn't the first lot that I've traveled with," Balter remarks, glancing in the direction of everyone's bedrooms. "After leaving home I was on my own for a while. I drifted from place to place, without any real destination. I had no idea what the hell I was supposed to do. To be honest, I barely remember those days.
"But one day, I came across a group of travelers - drifters and outcasts, just like me. We talked for a bit, and next thing I knew, they were offering me a place among them. Just like that, I had somewhere to belong again." Balter scowls, the words tasting foul on his tongue. "They were thieves. Murderers. Bandits. And I'd let myself become one of them. Banditry is technically legal in the River Kingdoms, you know. I went right along with it, buying into all of their nonsense. Five years wasted carousing in taverns and robbing people blind."
Durielle nods as Balter confirms her suspicions but doesn't press about the specifics of what exactly happened to his parents...or how he survived it. Perhaps he would talk about it more another day. Perhaps not.
"Ah," the elf breathes as Balter confesses to his part in outlawed behavior. "The people you spoke of that taught you how to use two swords at once."
Tilting her head, her voice becomes gentler, "And your usual preference for how to handle the bandits we've encountered...I assume it's based on having witnessed the behavior of the ones you once knew."
She nods. "I feel I understand that better now. You wish to cleanse the part of your own past you feel has been stained by them."
Durielle pauses to take a bite of meat with some cheese and chews thoughtfully.
"If I may ask, what happened to them, the old group of...travellers of whom you were once a part?"
"I killed them," Balter answers plainly, conveying neither pride nor shame. "Maybe they would have just let me walk away, but then they'd still be free to do as they pleased. So I solved the problem the only way I knew how."
He takes a another sip from his tankard, which by now was almost empty.
"They were small-time, so it was not exactly hard to avoid retribution. I doubt that anyone even noticed that they were gone," he explains. "Still, after that, I laid low for a few years. I'd long decided that being on my own wasn't such a bad thing after all. For a while I thought about living out the rest of my life that way.
"That is, until I caught wind of the charter. The last thing I needed was a reminder of the past, so at first I just ignored it. I didn't even want to think about the Stolen Lands. I told myself that, but something just kept nagging at me. This feeling, that it was finally time to go back. Once it got too annoying to ignore, I packed everything I owned and headed for Restov."
"And... that's it. You already know the rest," Balter finishes, leaning back in his chair.
Durielle examines Balter with narrowed eyes. "Do I?"
Then she gives a quiet laugh, a delicate sound some would compare to the tinkling of a glass bell.
"I thank you, Balter Farshadow. You have been much more forthcoming than is your usual wont, so I shall not press you further. I can only imagine you have reached the edge of your own comfort with such things."
The oracle takes a deep breath. "And...I promised you the same candor. If you have your own questions, I will do my best to be as open as you have been this night."
"Yeah, well, you asked," Balter replies with mock indifference, his mouth twisting into a wry grin. "Besides, I trust you."
Reminded of Durielle's own offer, Balter crosses his arms and closes his eyes, giving it serious consideration. Truthfully, he would have told her his story even if she hadn't offered anything about herself in in return. He did not want to admit how good it felt to confide in someone. Especially after all of that worrying about being read like an open book.
Even so, this was not an opportunity that he was willing to pass up.
"Everything I know about your past is filled with gloom and doom," he says, recalling what she told him during their last talk. "There had to be happier times, right?"
"Happier? Some happy times...but really just simpler," the oracle says her eyes turning to gaze at the stars above.
"I was probably happier when I was younger...before I realized what it meant to be an elf in a mostly human village. My childhood friends grew up and grew older while I was still, well, the equivalent of a teenager. Fortunately I was always a bit more on the shy side, so my immaturity was much less apparent, but needless to say, I lacked the wisdom to understand what was becoming so much more obvious to the humans around me. That was a big shock, though, coming to understand their lives were coming to an end just as my own flowering into adulthood finally actualized."
Durielle takes another piece of bread and pushes the plate containing the last bits of meat and cheese towards Balter.
"The women of my village were often jealous and hated me while the opposite could be said of the men."
A guilty look crosses her features. "I mentioned how I matured much later than those I knew. I'm afraid I may have allowed some flowery speeches and empty promises of love to cause hurt to some of my friends as my concept of fidelity developed late. But as time went on, and it was soon those same lovers' children who now pursued me...that certainly changed my perspective on how to handle those kinds of relationships. Mostly it was just easier not to become involved with anyone..."
Durielle absentmindedly brushes back some of her golden hair with her fingers.
"Simpler times, but still a bit lonely. I had my share of friends despite how I make it sound, and strangely you could say my friendship was almost an inheritance among my childhood friends to their children. It was quite a blow when the first of them began to die of old age or the accidents that come with work and responsibility. Life is just so precious for those who have been born with so much less of it."
Her silver eyes fall onto Balter. "Your own elven heritage should extend your life beyond that of a full-blooded human. You will likely learn of what I speak one day."
Durielle blinks and a little oh! escapes her lips as she sees Balter checking his empty tankard. "Are you out of ale? Would you like another?"
Balter listens to Durielle's story intently, but the dour frown on his face betrays the fact that it was not at all what he was expecting. It seems fairly obvious that he was expecting something a bit more cheerful... but perhaps something like that simply did not exist for the oracle. He absentmindedly chews on a piece of dried meat, not swallowing until she finished.
"I don't know about that," he says with a hollow laugh, pushing his tankard forward for a refill, "I still think it's a miracle that I've lived for as long as I already have. I just don't see myself making it to a century. Not with the kind of life I've been leading."
The half-elf leans forward to claim one of the last pieces of cheese.
"And judging by how it was for you... maybe it is better that way. I don't think it really matters how much life you have to start with. Either way, it's lost or taken away all too easily. I've never had anyone to worry about outliving, in any case."
As he nibbles on his cheese, Balter looks to a vision of the future. He did not have oracular powers, but he did have a very light buzz going on. Close enough.
"I'm sure Vlad will have a few brats running around the Stag Palace, or whatever the hell we're calling it. Nobles need their heirs. Same goes for Nico, I guess... assuming he's really human," Balter adds with a smirk. "You and Marisol will probably outlive the rest of us. What then? Have you given any thought to your own future? Will you move on, make some new friends, and help start another kingdom somewhere?"
Durielle's face becomes somewhat guarded when Balter refers to her potential long life, and once he references Marisol, she blushes though likely it's difficult to see in the dim torchlight scattered around the eating area.
"I-I haven't really given it much thought to be honest," she says after a moment. "With the shattered visions of the more immediate future and occasionally even further ahead, it's been hard to focus on a real plan for myself."
Durielle looks at her hands. "I'm still not yet certain what the powers that have given me my gifts—and the Omenstar's Promise—intend for me. I have come here to these stolen lands, and I feel my purpose is to be here." She shakes her head, and her hair reflects the illumination with surprising brightness. "But if my ultimate destination is to remain, it is yet unseen. I have seen myself within the visions of a future settlement here ruled by those of this company, so I imagine I shall be here for some time yet, but such years are a small measure for someone as long-lived as I."
The blush creeps back into her cheeks as she mumbles, "...or like Marisol." A slightly happy smile dares to appear for a moment, but Durielle turns away as she gathers up her own and Balter's tankards to procure the promised refill. Quite conveniently.
The next morning is warmer than it has been for many days. Oleg and Svetlana prepare a dried fruit oatmeal, and pack extra rations for your day's journey.
Arliss and Budgie bring your horses, and although it is warmer, Arliss's neck and half his face is bound in a new scarf Svetlana had gifted him.
You ride west-northwest fifteen miles before reaching your next area of exploration, and once again enter the Narlmarches woods.
Now better rested, Marisol is alert as Prancer carefully picks through the woods.
"I hope everyone slept as well as I did. The long ride sure makes the good night's sleep at the end well worth it," she says idly as they move through the brush.
"Any theories on what we'll find out here today? Besides trees, I mean."