"Alright then, we'll rely on your magic. Pack up, let's get moving." After a few minutes of getting ready, Viktor leads the party out once more.
The morning sunrise glinting off the snow and ice is beautiful. Off in the distance, everybody sees the flat plains turning into mountains. Viktor points to them. "Travel gets a little rougher now. More rocky. Nothing we can't handle though."
Sure as he says, the terrain gets more uneven. The rolling hills and harsh rocks make for slower travel, but with Bjorkus's song they're still ahead of schedule. An hour into the day's travel some snow flurries kick up, covering the rocky land is brief bursts of white. Viktor presses on. "This weather isn't much, just some refreshing snow in the face every once in a while!"
Another hour in and the party finds themselves looking up a frozen cliff. There are two separate hundred foot drops with a wide shelf in the middle. However, Toramin and Rilka are winded while Coralla looks to be on the verge of passing out.
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Hour 2 (DC 16)
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"Bjorkus, carry Coralla. Dalton, send us up."
Bjorkus nods and scoops up Coralla at Toramin's suggestion. "Goin' up."
"Certainly, Miss Featherfeet."
*******
What a magnificent formation! The icy cliffs had an austere beauty to them. And I bet the view from the top is marvelous.
"Bjorkus, I'll cast the spell on you. One should be enough if you make return trips. I've prepared it twice, but I'd like to reserve a use in case we need to scale - or descend - something else. Also, I'll bolster your ability to carry us - not that I think your muscle needs it much."
After a few moments, Dalton speaks a series of words, Bjorkus feeling his load of Coralla lighten considerably. Then he feels light himself as he begins hovering off the ground.
"It's a good thing too - I'll need to come with you as well. I can only maneuver you so far away from me, and it's not the height of the cliff. Miss Featherfeet, you might as well come up the first time as well - your small stature will make it wasy for you to find a spot."
They probably looks ridiculous, a Minotaur holding a winged maiden with a fat man handing on from behind and miniature woman to boot. Yet as silly as the situation appeared, it was effective.
Rilka gets out her rope and lashes Dalton to Bjorkus’ waist. ”Just in case you begin to feel weak. I’m tying myself as well,” she adds as she finishes a knot that secures a tether to the part of the rope around Bjorkus’ waist. She’s confident that Bjorkus won’t let go of Coralla, but just in case, she attaches a tether around her waist to Bjorkus as well.
Dalton trusted in Rilka's rope skills, but he held-on anyway out of habit. "Up we go!"
Magical flight wasn't entirely new to the bull anymore but the sensation of enhanced strength from the elf's spell was a new one. Even as ropes were tied to and around him, Bjorkus felt the weight of his friends as if it was nothing. He flexes a huge bicep briefly to see if the spell had actually changed his body at all.
"I'm pretty sure with this spell I could lift the Colosseum back in Akropash", he rumbles.
With the magic of Rilka and Dalton, the entire party is up the cliff in no time. Viktor shakes his head the whole time. "You guys are more help than I am, between all your magic and this one's song. Maybe you should get into the business." He laughs. "Then again I am sure you make more money than I do with whatever you do. Anyways, we got another two hours of daylight until lunch." He looks at Coralla who's on her knees, holding the back of her head and panting heavily. "She will not last though. She will pass out before we get that far."
"Bjorkus, will you carry her? Should we use an air crystal?"
Toramin is very much interested in pushing forwards.
Viktor grimaces. "We can press on, but even being carried there's a chance she will pass out. We can get down pretty quick if that happens, but it's damned unpleasant." He shakes his head at the mention of an air crystal. "Save it for an emergency. We could get stranded atop a mountain by an avalanche or some other problem."
It turned out even better than he thought it would.
With a little help from some friends and allies, Bjorkus has thrown together a massive celebration, finally something to relieve all the pent up emotions over the past years, and especially the past few weeks. Massive pavilions are set up inside and around the Colosseum, tables and chairs and stages everywhere. Performers of every kind are in attendance, from jugglers to bards to dancers to fire-breathers and everything in between. There is a lot of culture being shown here today.
In addition there are games going on at several staged locations. Rilka is seen in a colorful set of silks, presiding over them and explaining the rules. Some of the games are traditional games of strength and agility and skill, but most are some that Rilka has just brought up to help give the city more positive culture. More complicated games with sets of rules and teams instead of direct contests. The former slaves take to it like flies, loving the outlet. Truly, history will be made by this influence.
And the food! Oh it pours out in droves as the chefs fill each table to the brim with everything their stores have to offer. Cactus bowls filled with various colored liquids that bring rich scents into the air, fruits from the east coast and vegetables from the meager gardens. Meat of every kind, from pig to ahnkeg to horse (which is normal here) and several other things the party has trouble identifying. And something to boast about is the drink, which was cracked open from the hidden stashes of the slavers, high quality liquors now being given freely to any and all who want it.
Many people the party knows attend. Heff is seen here and there, flitting through the crowd. Krokar watches the games with amusement, although refuses to join in himself as he tries out the exotic food. Sylpha is hanging on Bjorkus's arm most of the time, but she's seen with a drink in her hand and dancing on occasion. Coralla is mostly helping serve food, which she seems more than happy to be a part of. Ninnec is managing most of the resources but still finds time to enjoy himself occasionally. Many white cloaks are in attendance, and while they do not drink or partake of the games, they are happy to converse. Firyin broods in a corner, ever silent. He has a bottle in his hand. Raul Ulric himself is there, although with an Aestheric guard and only on the fringes with a hood covering his face.
After things have kicked off Bjorkus gathers everybody to the entrance of the Colosseum, where he is standing on a podium next to something massive covered by a sheet.
Bjorkus rubs Coralla’s back with one massive hand in hopes that the contact might give her some measure of comfort. ”Press on then. Don’t worry girl, I’ll take care of you.” Per Toramin’s suggestion he picks her up.
Coralla nods half-attentively, glad to be picked up and carried. With a grunt Viktor turns and continues the march.
Across the plateau the party is currently on, Dalton and Rilka both start feeling the altitude getting to them. However Coralla stays conscious so Viktor presses on. The next hour the party goes up a rise and sees the frozen mountains from their high point. Viktor smiles as he looks across it. "One of the only places you can see the tops of the mountains. Some of the only climbable ones too." Suddenly Bjorkus feels Coralla go limp in his arms. Dalton and Rilka are seeing spots now as well. Viktor swears. "Come on, down the side! We gotta get her lower!"
After some hurried downhill running, Viktor jumps off a short ledge and turns around. The party follows and sees a cave. "Get inside and sit her down, make sure her head is to the side. I'll get a fire going."
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Hour 4 (DC 18)
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Toramin does not begrudge Coralla her rest, but is happy that it was close to lunch when she was in distress.
We needed a break anyways.
The bull does a circuit of the grounds, drinking, laughing, and mingling his way through crowd, pausing to thank Rilka, Coralla, and anyone else that had personally been involved in the event’s planning. Getting a signal from the stage he breaks off his current engagement and beelines for the podium, stopping long enough to pick up an unattended prostitute and drop her at a blushing Gabe’s side. ”Make a man outta him”, he rumbles in her ear before giving the tiefling a wink.
Lumbering up to the awkwardly undersized podium, Bjorkus rests his tankard on its surface and raises a meaty hand to signal the assembled crowd for their attention.
”Listen up!” the bull bellows silencing the last few lingering conversations. ”I’m gunna make this quick because I know you’re all eager to get back to the party. We all know the fightin’s not done – it won’t be for weeks still - but Targ and his witch’s power is broken for good now. The cowards that were suckin’ at their teets are either beaten or in the wind. The days of Akropash, in chains, livin’ in that bastard’s shadow are in the past”, Bjorkus’s voice rises in intensity as he speaks and he pauses to give the crowd a moment to cheer. ”But that was the easy part. What comes next is where our strength and will is really gunna be tested.”
The bull gives Toramin a nod before he continues.
”We’ve gotta rebuild Akropash, bigger and stronger than she was before. We’ve gotta make this city a place where her people stand as one when it comes to survival and makin’ sure that someone like Targ never comes to power here again. Everyone here is part of that now and if I have to come back and tear down another tyrant in a few years I’m gunna personally kick all of your asses!” he pauses again for the expected laughter. ”What this celebration marks is the end of Akropash’s fight for freedom and the start of its fight for the future. Remember that as you’re drinkin’, or gamin’, or f#$$in’ your way through the night. And remember those that sacrificed to make today possible if not at the memorial stone, in the stories you share tonight and the days to come.”
Bjorkus was normally prickly when it comes to taking orders but Coralla’s condition pushes that under the surface. He’s not quite as graceful as their guide but the bull hops down after Viktor, follows him inside the cavern, and props up Coralla against a wall. He leans her in a way that her neck rests at an angle. ”What do I do now?!”
Viktor turns at the alarmed cry, then relaxes. "She will be fine soon. With blood going back up to her head and at a lower elevation she will come to before lunch is ready. Just make sure she doesn't end up rolling onto her stomach. I've seen more than one man die because he landed the wrong way when passing out."
As the cheers slow down, Bjorkus exits the stage and makes his way toward the memorial stones. He picks up a set of the metal picks and over the course of several minutes etches the names of his fallen honor guard into the face of the rock. Once the job is done, he takes his tankard back from whoever was carrying it for him and holds it aloft in salute to the names he’d just written.
”They fought with honor and their sacrifice won’t go to waste. To the fallen!” he roars as a toast.
Bjorkus nods at Viktor’s instruction and watches Coralla carefully.
The crowd roars with him, then goes back to partying. However as Bjorkus turns around his face is inches from Firyin. Somehow he had gotten right next to Bjorkus without being heard. His blank expression is ever an enigma to read, but from the smell of his breath and sway of his legs he's clearly drunk. He takes a stumbled step past Bjorkus and falls to a knee, placing one hand over the newly carved names. Then with an unnaturally long and tough nail, he scratches underneath their names. Voice of the voiceless.
Toramin backs Bjorkus up with a chant after he says his peace.
Firyin is angry. He is torn apart by grief and sadness and anger. He's not drinking to celebrate, he's drinking to forget. A callused man with no tongue can't make friends very easily, and his two closest and only friends have fallen.
After checking in with Curden Craw and confirming that everything was quiet in the city, Bjorkus resumes his hosting responsibilities, greeting those in attendance and sharing a drink with anyone that’s up for it.
~~~~~Grand Tour, Day 17~~~~~
Rilka spent time inspecting the group’s gear for wear. As she worked she asked Dalton, ”Do you think a spell for breathing underwater would work in the thin air? I haven’t learned that formula yet. If not, perhaps the spell could be modified for high altitude areas like this.” The halfling sees Bjorkus keeping an eye on the woman, following Viktor’s advice, so doesn’t feel her watching will help much. She breathes deeply and moves slowly to conserve her energy.
As Bjorkus cheers, she raises her cup high and spills the first drop of wine onto the ground. ”To the fallen!” she yells the echoes Toramin’s chant with, ”Honor and sacrifice!”
Poor Firyin, she thinks seeing the pain the half-elf is in.
~The Grand Tour Day 17~
As Viktor said, soon enough Coralla wakes up. She grimaces and groans. "Oh god, this headache..." She lays back down and covers her face with her blanket, pushing out the world.
Viktor grunts. "She'll be alright with some water and rest. Some big frog legs will help as well!" He chuckles as he pulls out his large, battered pot and starts heating some snow. As he waits for the snow to become boiling water, he takes out the frog legs from his pack and starts slicing meat off of them. "The proper way to eat them is whole, right off the leg, but I do not have a pot that large."
”I’ll just be happy to have some meat in my belly”, Bjorkus comments as he checks on the dryness of their gear.
Raul nods as he looks around, either ignoring the rhetoric or not picking up on it. "I'm glad the people are happy again. It's been far too long." He sighs and sips at his drink. "Things weren't always that way. It's true that the land is harsh and the people were hard, but Targ did not used to rule so cruelly as he did with Acera by his side. Still not a good leader..." He shrugs. "But less twisted."
”I take it by the fact that you’re here the Aestherics decided to spare your miserable hide for now. I’m surprised but I can’t say I’m entirely disappointed. You and I have a score to settle and I don’t see that happenin’ if they hang you right away”, Bjorkus muses.
”What’s left between us doesn’t have anything to do with Akropash and me beatin’ your ugly face in isn’t part of any ‘big picture’. It’ll just make me feel better about the thousand times I had to swallow my pride, just one of which includes the time you and your gang 'roughed' me up and dragged me down into Targ's dungeon so his Kuthite could cut me open a dozen different ways and f$+& with my head. I'd say you're lucky if all I do is beat the s+$+ out of you and humiliate you.”
He gives a miniscule grin. "You're lucky you have people with brains with you." He sips at his drink again, turning his head as one of the games gets loud. "Yeah, pity he didn't get anywhere with you. Wouldn't have to listen to your puffed up idle threats anymore." He gives a sarcastic laugh, then raises his cup. "To the hero of Akropash! The one who fell to Targ and ran from Acera, what a legend!"
"Why, yes. In fact, I know of such a spell. I had considered preparing it, but it lasts a few scant minutes." He hefted open his spellbook, flipped to the appropriate entry, and ran his finger along it for Rilka. "Mmmhmmm. No reason why it wouldn't work. Sadly, I can't force it to last as long as the adjuration against this cold!"
Similar to Bjorkus, Dalton was just happy to have something. "I can see why you dwarves live beneath the surface now; I would as well if I lived here!"
Dalton turned to leave. "I'll have to get you a drink for your help back there before we leave town. Unfortunately, wet goods are hard to come by in this desert."
Appropriately enough, that was Dalton's next order of business: He searched-out the city for any merchants remaining with notable quantities of water, juice, wine, or ale ... they would be of special interest in the days ahead. Protection against looting, yes ... but for a price.
"Get out of the way", he growls at the nearby guards without taking his eyes off the werewolf. "Unless you want your fancy tent gettin' wrecked."
He gestures with his horns sharply. "Outside. Now."
The guards look over suspiciously. One of them speaks up. "We're not leaving the prisoner, we have orders."
The Aestherics allow Bjorkus in without asking any questions, although one mage-looking fellow does stare at him for a moment.
"The Hell if I care", Bjorkus adds. "Put the drink down. I hate to see good ale goin' to waste", he warns as he puts up his ham-sized fists.
Raul turns to see Bjorkus in a fighting stance. He looks at the cup again and takes a sip. "It's actually water. Apparently they don't allow prisoners to drink alcohol." He looks back at the game, thoroughly ignoring Bjorkus.
"So you can only fight me when it's at Targ's orders with a gang of your thugs to back you up? You're a piece of s*+$. You don't give a damn about Akropash or this 'order' you keep goin' on about and I don't believe for a second that you were suckered into enforcin' Targ's rule. Admit it. You loved every second of bein' a his pet. Life's easy when you're blindly followin' orders and everyone shakes at the sight of you."
"Now turn around and fight me. Unlike you I don't need a soddin' sucker punch to lay someone out."
The Aestherics slowly draw their weapons, saps instead of their lethal weapons, with nervous looks as Raul provokes Bjorkus. "Come on, he's not worth it. He's just trying to get under your skin."
~The Grand Tour Day 17~
The party gets to chow down on giant glacier toad legs and the stew created by it. Interestingly enough, despite being warm the meat still gives an interesting cold aftertaste. "That's the magic in their blood. You could let it boil for a full day and still get that." It's an interesting taste to be sure. A little slimy and stringy, but not bad.
With lunch done and everybody feeling better, Viktor stands up. "Right, still got half a day!" And he leads the party out yet again. They travel through a snowy pass for an hour when they hear gentle burbling. Viktor points ahead. "There's a hot spring ahead. It flows even in these frozen parts, although the winter months sometimes choke it. It takes out the snow and ice, so we'll have to pass over a bridge to get past it. Or jump it, but I'd rather not risk that. Getting wet up here is a death sentence." He leads them forward, then stops and swears...
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