Here be monsters.
Maelchar wasn't sure how they found him to deliver the summons to Professor Lorrimor's funeral, but he received it nonetheless. The young lad who had run up to him in dark corner of the tavern he'd been sitting in seemed nonplussed and uncomfortable in his presence. Still he was determined to fulfill his charge, and delivered the note. He ran off without waiting for his customary tip.
Maelchar opened the invitation and was dismayed to hear of the professor's demise. He scowled as he considered the date. He didn't have much time to make the trip to Ravengro. It was good that nothing called for his attention here in Ardis immediately. He stood and slipped out of the tavern, leaving a tip for the serving wench, though he'd had nothing to eat or drink.
He hired a small wagon and horse and loaded a few necessary things into it, and headed out on the road to Ravengro that very night. A few concerns distressed him about the journey, but he'd tackle those as they came up. There were no major settlements between Ardis and Ravengro, so shelter might be a problem. Perhaps he could take shelter at least one night in Saffron House. He'd heard of the place and had no fear of haunted houses himself. If not there, then perhaps some deeply wooded glade along the way would suffice. No matter, he was sure he'd make the trip without issue and he set off in the dead of night to get as much travel time in as he could.
Ke'zsothar takes one last bite from the rabbit he had catched, then throws the mostly-eaten carcass away with his paw. Of course, he doesn't need to eat, but the taste of rabbit takes his thoughts away from the painful fact that he has no idea where Ravengro is. Actually, he has no idea where he himself is.
He lets out a noise roughly comparable to a sigh, and starts walking along the road again, when he suddenly he notices movement in the corner of his eye. Another traveler! He examines the man for a while, and finds his features... oddly familiar, for some reason. After pondering the possible risks for a moment, he decides that the opportunity is too valuable to waste, and interposes himself in the stranger's way.
Excuse me, but might you, by chance, be travelling towards Ravengro?
Maelchar pulls up his horse to a stop and blinks in surprise when he hears the badger speak... Now this is something new and different. He tilts his head to one side, his features still mostly hidden under the hood of his cloak. Finally, after a long moment to consider the unique aspects of a talking badger, he smiles, revealing pearly white teeth in the moonlight.
"I am indeed headed to Ravengro, little friend." While not actually pushing his wild empathy, it is obvious that he does seem to have some affinity for wildlife. Still, he knows he would have no success with a being smart enough for its own speech. "My name is Maelchar and I have business in that small town. Are you going there as well? If so, would you like to join me on the road? While my errand is not a happy one, it would surely ease the onus of a long journey to have companionship."
"If you wish, you are welcome to a seat on the wagon, or to walk alongside, whichever you prefer. I don't mean to be forward, but it is unusual in my experience for those of your kind to speak. How is it you come by the facility for language?" Maelchar asks as they start along the road together.
The northward trip from her home in Cheliax had been long, but mostly uneventful. She'd taken a collection of gems and other valuables with her to finance the journey, and fortunately, no one's been suspicious enough to pay enough attention to either her or the doll she carries. The identity of a child wanting to visit a relative on their deathbed had managed to fool enough people to allow her to travel quickly in relative comfort.
Occasionally her lies would falter, as she's spent so many years inside her family's manner that she's lost touch with the outside world, but her natural charm and child-like innocence she's retained through countless years seemed to make up for that fact enough. She found it quite easy to play off her sheltered knowledge as being a child.
Of course, she couldn't just play off all of her limited knowledge as being young, as wound up resulting in not quite enough money to make it to Ravengro comfortably. Prices and value were a bit alien to her, having had wealthy parents, and later, no need for even food or drink.
"We can't be too much further, can we?" she sighs, pulling at the sides of a wide-brimmed hat. The road was dark, and having traveled so far north, much colder than what she was used to. Fortunately, neither of those facts matter to her. She'd been moving around so much lately, that reaching Ravengro is all she cares for right now.
The doll walking alongside her continues staring at the map in front of it, and with the voice of a male child, replies, "Perhaps. I'm not too sure. Are we even going in the right direction?"
"You are of no help at all, Ruan." Mira was about to grab the map from Ruan's small hands, but instead runs to the side of the road and motions for Ruan to follow. In a low voice, she says, "Who else would travel at night?" The sound of a horse's hooves and rattling of a wagon's wheels continues to approach, causing Mira to crouch down and back up further.
"Maybe we should jump them."
"Here? Maybe. We could follow them for a while if they don't notice us. Otherwise, you know the routine by now."
If that notices the child and her doll, Maelchar makes no immediate reaction, though he does tilt his head to one side slightly, as if listening intently. Beneath the cover of his hood, his eyes shift back and forth, seeking out the soft sounds he thought he might have heard...
After a long pause during which he tries to pinpoint the exact source of the sound, he sighs softly, and speaks turning his head in the direction the sound had come from. "Hello? Come on out. I won't hurt you." Little did he know that he might be the one who could be hurt. He was obviously not afraid of whoever or whatever might be out in the darkness.
He remains casually seated in the wagon, and speaks softly to someone or something closer to him than the unknown source of the sound. To Ke'z, he asks, "Did you hear something? I thought I did, a soft voice in the darkness, maybe two voices?" Is he talking to himself? What an odd man...
Ruan's body goes limp as Mira picks herself from the ground and slowly walks towards the wagon with a slight limp, and holding her arm, as if it were injured. Faking a cough, she says, "Sir? I've lost my way. Might I get a ride to the nearest town?"
Maelchar looks at the youngster and smiles. "Sorry to hear you're lost. You look like you're injured. I'm sorry I'm not a healer, but then, I am guessing normal healing would have no effect on you." He smirks slightly.
This 'child' has no heartbeat. I don't know what she is, but she isn't alive, and she doesn't smell like a vampire. But she seem genuinely lost, and I'm not surprised at that, poor child. He has no clue that she is probably far older than he is.
"Of course you're welcome to a ride, but I don't know the area well myself. I am on the way to Ravengro. I have no idea if there are towns between here and there."
He slides over and makes room for the girl on the wagon. "My name is Maelchar. What's yours?"
It takes a moment to Ke'zsothar to process what Malechar had said. (His Common isn't the best one around.)
You, mean, when I learnt to... communicate like this? No idea.
Then he notices the Mira and her doll.
You know, it would probably be easier to move if you weren't carrying a dead midget around. He re-focuses his telepathy onto Maelchar. Mind helping me up there? I don't feel like jumping around right now.
Before making room for the child, Maelchar jumps down off the wagon and reaches down, lifting the as-yet-unnamed (or at least undeclared in re: a name) telepathic badger and places him on the bench of the wagon. He climbs up and makes room for the girl as well, though there's little room for the doll now, so it will have to go in the back with a large chest or sit on the girl's lap.
"Come on, child, have a seat... there are many more miles to cover tonight."
Mira runs back to where Ruan is lying motionless, and returns to the wagon with him in tow. She whispers, "I'm sorry," as she puts him into the back. She then hoists herself up onto the front of the wagon.
"He's not a dead midget," she says to Maelchar, assuming the badger was a pet, and thus not capable of speech, much less telepathy. "He's a doll. In fact, he's quite tall for a doll. In any case, thank you for allowing me to accompany you."
"You're welcome, little lady. Do you have a name?" He gives her a moment to answer if she wishes, then continues on as he urges the horse forward. "So, what brings you out on your own so late at night? I never expected to meet one such as you in such a desolate place." He doesn't address the 'dead midget' comment as, since it was directed at her from the badger, Maelchar wasn't privy to it initially and thought when she told him it wasn't one, she was just providing information.
I'm sure she has her secrets, and I'll try not to pry too much, but small or not, dead or not, she looks awfully young. Whatever happened to her, it occurred when she was only maybe 10 or 11? I wonder how old she really is.
He looks over at the badger who is sitting on the bench on his other side and smiles a little. He's far too intelligent to ever be an animal companion... but maybe, gee a normal badger might be interesting when the time comes for me to have one.
He casually touches the badger lightly and speaks to him mind to mind, which might surprise the badger, since he didn't initiate this and it could be strange to be on the receiving end.
"Be careful of this one, she may look like a young human child, she is not alive."
Still hidden under the hood of his cloak and the wide-brimmed hat he wears, even at night, his features are unclear, but his voice is soft and sounds like that of a young man. His physique is hidden under a suit of studded leather armor which is covered by a heavy woolen cloak. All of his clothing is dark-colored in browns and blacks.
Ke'zsothar is not at all bothered by being targeted by telepathy. After all, almost everyone in the Abyss can do it, it isn't any more odd than speaking normally.
Not alive? Well, she seems quite lively for being dead.
Maelchar broadly smiles at Ke'z's comment about her liveliness, an expression mostly hidden by his deep hood, just a hint of pearly whites reflecting moonlight to show his reaction. "Ah, isnt she just, though? Most unusual. I wonder what sort of undead she is. Do you think we should ask her or let her keep her secrets? He asks K'ez, again gently touching the small black and white creature as he communicates with him.
Of course we should. Why would she tell us if we don't ask? Ke'zsothar asks, puzzled by Malechor's hesitation, before focusing on the girl again.
What kind of undead you are?
Maelchar considers asking the girl, but when the badger seems to turn his attention to the girl, he pauses,knowing Ke'z might be asking her himself. He confirms this with a light touch and a quick thought Did you ask her?
Of course I did. Now, if you would explain why you keep touching me all the time...
I'm sorry, I can only speak mind to mind if I'm touching you. I thought some of our speech should be private, as it's rude to speak aloud about someone else as if they weren't there.
Mira's heart would have skipped a beat if it wasn't already stopped. Looking straight forward, she says, "My name is Mira, and I do not know why you would possibly think I'm undead." Her voice falters, as most people who have had their suspicions simply let it go; no one's confronted her yet. The thought that her company may be unusual as well has yet to even cross her mind.
Ruan, be prepared to jump this man. He's prying.
Well, Malechar said that you were one... I don't know, he seems pretty sure. Though... Ke'zsothar starts sniffing at Mira. You don't smell very alive. Are you sure that you might not be one?
At the mention of Maelchar's name in third person, Mira finally realizes that this second voice was indeed coming from inside her own head, and from a separate source than Maelchar. Between this and the accusation of being undead, she lashes out and touches Maelchar, directing negative energy through herself. Expecting him to fall over dead, her panic changes to bemusement when he doesn't.
Hey! What the heaven are you doing? Calm down, girl! Ke'zsothar yells telepathically. You almost pushed me down this bench!
Maelchar looks down at where the little girl touched him and gives her a bemused smile, barely visible under his hood. "What was that for, little Mira? We think you are undead because you are. You have no heartbeat, you are obviously not alive."
During all this, Maelchar kept the wagon moving along at a steady pace, he doesn't even slow it down when she tries to affect him with her negative energy touch attack. He just gazes at her from under his hood, his eyes blazing a dull red from the darkness of the shadows.
"Come share with us... what manner of undead are you? I mean you no harm, if you can say the same to me. Though I'd appreciate it if you didn't try to attack me again. After all, I was kind enough to offer you a ride. Surely that is worth some gratitude, rather than hostility."
That badger's clearly more than a companion, and this man wasn't harmed in the slightest, she thought.
Regaining her normal composure, she says, "I deeply apologize. I'm not quite sure what I am, or exactly what happened to result in this. I imagine I've become some form of lich, though I doubt the method I used is repeatable. Rather, it may be repeatable, but I know not how. It was an accident. And I imagine you're not normal either, and neither is that beast. It really does make more sense now that there are two of you. I thought I'd gone insane and started hearing your voice oddly in my head. Oh, and if you hear any rummaging from the back, don't be alarmed."
"Rummaging, eh? I take it your doll is not as lifeless as you somehow. Well, there's not much in the back besides a pack with my spare clothing and a mostly empty chest. He's welcome to rummage if he'd like to. A lich eh? I've not met your like before, I must say... and few enough of the undead of your apparent age. You don't look older than 10 or 11... Yet I suspect you are probably a good bit older than you look. I'm surprised to hear you became what you are by accident though. What little I know of liches involves ritual and intent. And no, I guess you could say I'm not normal either. I have yet to learn much about our furred friend here, as I met him just before you showed up, and he hasn't even given his name yet."
He turns to the badger and speaks aloud, "Care to share your name with us, now that the subject has come up again?"
Farther down the road saunters a humanoid form, clad in the tattered remains of a brown travel cloak. From a distance it could easily be mistaken for an ordinary human being, but as that distance closes, several irregularities become apparent. Though hunched, the form is well over seven feet tall, far taller than the average human. Even stranger is the right arm, visible even beneath the cloak - the thick, heavily muscled appendage reaches the ground, its knuckles dragging along the road. However, the strangest feature is perhaps not one of the creature, but of the rather massive sword mounted on its back. It, too, drags along the ground as its owner continues to walk, his gait awkward yet steady.
"This is a long, long, long road..." he mutters to himself for the umpteenth time since his departure from Varisia. The journey from the west had taken many long weeks, but the ogrekin had been relentless in choosing his path. He slept for only as long as needed, and ate only when something edible happened to cross his path. Of course there was some screaming, and fires, and even some pitchforks, but it was all nothing new. His memory tended to be fuzzy about those kinds of things. Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately for some), he was quite good at remembering other things.
After a few moments, the ogrekin stops moving for the first time in several hours. Raising its head ever so slightly, it just barely turns its head to look down the way it came. Huh. I could swear I jus' heard somethin'...
"There was certainly ritual and intent, and I suppose the process wasn't too dissimilar to the one one goes through to intentionally become a lich. I wanted to save a friend of mine by putting his soul into a doll. I suppose something went horribly wrong, however, as I wound up with my soul in the doll as well. I'm quite sure odder things have happened, though, such as the furry beast who speaks directly into one's mind," she says, the last part turning her attention to the badger as well, hoping that the spotlight being on him would prompt an answer to Maelchar's question.
"Ah, I see what you mean by accident. How unusual. That explains why the doll is not completely lifeless. It seems our furry friend will only explain himself in his own time, and we cannot hurry him. Badgers are notoriously stubborn."
"Oh, my... look up there ahead of us... It looks like this is a busy road this night... and if we three are odd, he is just as odd... look at his le.. i mean right arm. It is large enough for a creature twice his size and he's no small one to begin with. And look at that sword on his back. It's huge. Perhaps we should give him a wide berth... well except for the fact that the wagon wouldn't do well off the road. Hmmm. A quandary, indeed. What do you think, Mira? Shall we stay well behind him, or catch up and greet him, one... strange creature to another?"
Well... fine. Ke'zsothar finally gives in to the repeated inquiries about his name. He had been reclutant to share it since... Well, it usually has evoked more laughter than respect.
He takes the most dramatic pose that his physiology allows, resulting in something that strikes the perfect balance between stupid and adorable.
I'm Ke'zothar! The demon lord of badgers! Commander of vast Abyssal realms! The bane of devils, archons, and other uptight idiots!
"Well met then, Ke'zothar. Demon lord of badgers, eh?" He hides a smile. Is this truly a demon of some kind, or perhaps a misguided creature that having become sentient, thinks a bit too highly of itself? Either way, time would tell.
For some reason, he can't help himself and reaches out, and ruffles the fur on Ke'z's head gently.
As the wagon pulls up toward the ogrekin, Maelchar becomes even more impressed by the man's size. He pulls on the reins gently, bringing the horse to a very slow walk to match Raggi's pace for a few moments. He sniffs the air and examines the fellow carefully.
He speaks softly to the others. "He's alive at least. And I think he might be some kind of ogre, albeit a smallish one."
To Raggimung, he gazes at him from out of the shadows of his hood, and his voice emanates from the darkness. "Hello, fellow traveler. Hope you don't mind if we share the road with you this night. We are approaching Ravengro. Is that your destination as well?"
What a stupid question! Where else would he be going, we are practically there! Well, at least you've broken the ice... Hopefully he won't attack us, as he looks like quite a formidable opponent with that oversized arm and weapon. I hope he means no harm to Ravengro. Wouldn't do to have the prof's funeral interrupted by shenanigans.
So I wasn't jus hearin' things... His suspicions confirmed, Raggimung turns and continues to walk down the road once more. It would not be the first time some band of humans passed by him on his journey. Would they pick a fight like so many before them? The ogrekin did not care too much either way - if a problem presented itself, he would just remove it. It was that simple. As the sound of the approaching wagon grows louder and louder, it soon becomes apparent that it was not passing by him. Indeed, it was moving at his pace. At first he simply ignores it, maintaining his brisk pace. Surprisingly enough however, a man on the wagon speaks to him.
Turning his head slowly, Raggimung peeks out from under his hood, looking to the cloaked man. Such niceties... did he have any idea who he was talking to? Perhaps he just had bad eyesight - wouldn't be the first blind human he has ever seen. After considering the man's intentions, the ogrekin finally answers, nodding his head steadily. "Yeah, Ravengro. That's where I'm headin'."
All the while, he continues to walk. It was a long, long, long road after all, and stopping any more times would just delay him even more.
Maelchar keeps the wagon moving at Raggimung's pace...
Ah, he speaks common - a good sign, most ogres only speak giant tongue. But not overly friendly either.
"My name's Maelchar. I'm going to Ravengro as well. It's not an overly large city, in fact it's barely larger than a village. What brings you there, this night?"
Even as he asks, he suddenly thinks to himself... I don't even know where the child lich is headed, she just asked for the nearest town because she was lost... and the badgerlord whatever he is never said either. And I was remiss in asking either of them, really. But then I guess if they wanted to say, they would have. It does seem odd that four such oddities as ourselves would all be headed to such a small town at the same time.
He sighs slightly as he considers the fact that they are indeed getting close to Ravengro. I was planning on stopping for a quick drink somewhere on the way in to Ravengro, but how can I do that with all these folk around. They will scare off any animals around. Ah well, I will have to make do and perhaps go hungry for a day or two... There's always dog or rat... even small towns have those... I really hate rats...
If life has taught something to Ke'zsothar, it is that you should stay on the good side of folk significantly bigger than you are.
Hi big fella!
To avoid further misunderstandings, he wawes at the big guy with his front paw.
The ogrekin continues to lumber alongside the wagon, looking at Maelchar with a curious expression. It had been years since the last time anyone had bothered to try to engage him in conversation. After all, who in their right mind would talk to an ogre? Remembering his destination, the answer comes to him all too easily. That's right. I knew a guy just like that...
"I gotta funeral to get to," he finally answers, seeing no reason to be secretive about it. He usually kept to himself, true enough, but it had always been more due to people's fear of him than of any deceit on his part. That is to say, he had no real sense of privacy. Raggimung was indeed wary of the strange fellow, but something about his nonchalant friendliness was almost nostalgic. "It's been a long, long, long road. But I'm almost there."
The second voice however gives him pause. Raggimung glances about, almost doubting his own sense of hearing for a moment. What the...? I got voices in my head or somethin'? It is only after looking back to the wagon that he notices the furry creature waving at him. He was hardly the pointiest nail in the coffin, but if there was one thing he knew, it was that animals couldn't talk. Not without some black magics being involved.
"Some trick," he grumbles, though whether it is to Maelchar, to the badger, or to himself is unclear.
Maelchar's eyes open wider as Raggi mentions going to a funeral, though the gesture is largely unseen under cover of his hood.
"A funeral eh?" How many funerals can there be in a small town at one time? "Would that by chance be Professor Lorrimor's funeral that you would be attending? If so, then we are well met indeed, as that is why I am on my way to Ravengro as well."
I know the professor is well-traveled and has probably met many strange folks, but this ogre-man might be among the strangest if he is indeed speaking of the professor's funeral. I wonder how they know each other.
Ke'zsothar tilts his head a little. Truly, it was an amazing coincidence. Or not.
Hey, I'm going there too! I didn't know that you know the professor too! He sputters telepathically to Maelchar. Man, I haven't seen the professor in ages! It'll be nice to speak with him again.
"That's doubly fortunate that we have met then, Ke'z! The professor and I have known each other for some time, but, like you, I have not seen him for a long while. Speak with him again? That will be difficult. We are going to pay our respects for his passing. Unless there is something you know that you aren't telling us."
Maelchar replies to Ke'z aloud, for all the others to hear.
Ke'zsothar stares at Maelchar, utterly confused.
What are you talking about? Why would he invite us, if he's not going to be there when we arrive?
He pauses for a moment.
What kind of thing this... "funeral"... really is?
"A funeral is a ritual ceremony to mark the death of a person. Whoever arranged this must have gone through his journals or his correspondence to invite people he had known. The invitation didn't come from him directly, but probably from some relative or friend."
Maelchar pulls out his invitation and looks at it, to see if there was anything to indicate who it was sent by. He hadn't really paid attention to that detail before packing up and leaving for Ravengro.
Maelchar scans down the invitation looking for a name he might have missed. Sure enough, crammed at the bottom lies an immaculately written signature, carefully and daintily drawn with some of the best calligraphy any of you have ever seen.
Faithfully,
Kendra Lorrimos
Maelchar shows the invitation to Ke'z without worrying about whether the badgerlord can read or not. "See, it's signed by a Kendra Lorrimos."
But... What about those who killed him? Won't they be waiting for us? Ke'zsothar asks. Coming from a plane where murder is the number one cause of death, he naturally thinks that such was the professor's fate also. The invitation only helps fuel his suspicions.
I know it! I know it! She killed him and now is trying to lure us into a trap!
"Relax, little friend. We don't know how he died. He wasn't a young man when I met him, he might have just died of old age. I'm sure we'll find out more when we get to Ravengro, but there's no reason to assume he was murdered, nor that there is any sort of trap meant for his friends."
I hope I'm right and that Ke'z is just over excitable. Maybe we should be on our guard though, just in case this IS some kind of ruse to lure the professor's friends to Ravengro for some nefarious reason.
The revelation that both the man and badger seemed to know the Professor comes as quite a surprise to Raggimung, who falls silent as the others continue to converse. The ogrekin himself had only met him once, all those years ago. He had never given any thought to Lorrimor's other acquaintances. From the looks of the badger, Raggimung wasn't the only odd one in the bunch.
"Yeah, it's his funeral alright. Didn't know he was expectin' other guests though."
Maelchar turns to Mira and asks, "Are you a friend of the professor's on the way to his funeral as well? Perhaps you weren't so lost on the road, eh?" His voice is calm and the request casual. He doesn't seem or sound upset if the lost child routine was just a ruse.
I wouldn't be surprised if the professor had more unusual friends than just us three... four if the girl is one as well. He was an eccentric collector of all sorts of things, and 'friends' such as us might have been among his collections.
"So, what's your name and how did you come to know the professor, large one?" He turns his attention back to the ogre, who has yet to give his name, but the questions are aimed at him regardless.