And when [The story telling Mastiff's] stories had ended, she retrieves her heavy tome from her pack, the tome of weavers patterns. She removes a strip of cloth from it, and it changes from a simple leather-bound book into one bound with steel. Gold leaf lettering and intricate images covering its pages. She flips and recites a few lines before asking "If... given the time... you would permit, Lord Archon, I would love to add your tales to our scripture. I am no proper scribe, but I would be remiss to pass on such an opportunity..."
The venerable mastiff hound smiles softly. He gets a gleam in his eye that shows he is clearly far, far away in another time, another place. He paused for a few moments, pondering what to share with the devout human. Sitting on a log around the campfire that reflected in his eyes, he relayed a tale from his past.
"First I should tell you the tale of my blade--" he patted a beaten old scabbard that held a massive greatsword that rested against his leg, "it was forged by salamander from the elemental plane of fire. Best smiths in the multiverse!"
He drew the sword from the scabbard, revealing a beautifully crafted blade of greenish-blue adamantine, lined with a diamond cutting edge. The crossguard was worked to be two light-beams erupting from a stylized shining star at the hilt, encrusted with sparkling diamonds and sapphires. The blade itself was immaculately cleaned and bereft of any flaw, though the hilt and bloodstained grip had clearly seen their share of combat.
"Centuries ago there was a shooting star in the heavens of heaven itself, sparkling with a ferocious majesty through the sky above me. I was immediately enamored with it, and ran toward its trajectory. I ran like the very wind and followed its trek across the sky above me for a week or more. Suddenly it dove out of the sky and with a tremendous crash it opened a crater on a nearby mountainside. I stared hard at the eruption of stone and dust, then visualized myself nearby ... when I opened my eyes I stood at the crater; I looked down upon a steaming red-hot core of a star the size of a summermelon laying motionless at the bottom. After standing by its side for another week, it had finally cooled sufficiently for me to retrieve it and bring it back to Calcentari - my home."
"The salamander had lived among us for some time, offering to craft us arms and armor for our eternal struggle, and so when I brought the star metal to its forge, it nearly swooned with anticipation! There was sufficient diamond within the star metal core to add this cutting edge, and so after several weeks of labor, my blade - Menas Leyvaa, or Shearing Star - was handed to me by the proud fiery smith."
"Most miraculous of all, I sometimes hear the voices of our Gods above resonating through the sacred metal. I believe it was a gift."
Several nearby archons reluctantly gazed upon the wondrous blade, unable to deny its beauty, though they had seen it many times.
Veronica smiles at the Archon and nods intently and glancing curiously at his sword.
Does the sword allow him to hear their voices, or is it simply his faith? Or is it his dedication to his service?... Would he let me touch the sword?... No, that would be rude to ask...
She suddenly snaps out of her haze when realizes that she had failed to actually write anything down. Embarrassed, she says "Please... give me one moment, most Radiant One." She quickly scrounges through her bag, finding no quill, nor ink, nor paper. Thinking quickly, she withdraws a dark, oily root from her medicine bag, along with a stick and a roll of linen bandages. She quickly grinds up the root and uses the juices from it to write on her cloth.
"Ok...shooting star... trekked for a week or more... opened a crater... red-hot core... Is that Calcentari with a 'K' or a 'C'?"
...
Her notes completed, she looks at him for a moment before asking "And when they speak to you... what do they say?"
...Green Starmetal
|
Gromff gives Catcher a confused look. Should have used the mace? She still hadn't look at it. "Unlike ye, I listen. Ye said ye wanted ta study it more so I let ye."
”If you listened. You wouldn’t have taken it from me.” she says sulking and then continues ”Use it. I don’t think there’s anything to learn from that weapon. It suits you.”
When Gromff mentions Archdale the mage comments as well.
”We can’t say for sure the entire Silvermane faction has been compromised. Don’t forget that demons, at least some of them, can rob you of your will and make you do things you would never do by yourself. And remember when we talked with the knights? More than once they said the orders changed abruptly and they were just obeying. There’s a great chance that the commander there was enthralled by some demon.”
"Ok...shooting star... trekked for a week or more... opened a crater... red-hot core... Is that Calcentari with a 'K' or a 'C'?"
"In the Celestial runic alphabet it is a Klee, but the closest translation in the common tongue of men is the letter 'C'."
Her notes completed, she looks at him for a moment before asking "And when they speak to you... what do they say?"
"I've heard answers to prayers; conveyed emotions of joy and righteous fury; even calls to arms. Never with words, you see, the gods are seldom so direct with us mortalkind, though we archons admittedly have a closer relationship than Atma-bound mortals."
When Gromff mentions Archdale the mage comments as well. ”We can’t say for sure the entire Silvermane faction has been compromised. Don’t forget that demons, at least some of them, can rob you of your will and make you do things you would never do by yourself. And remember when we talked with the knights? More than once they said the orders changed abruptly and they were just obeying. There’s a great chance that the commander there was enthralled by some demon.”
"Aye, but most weren't forced. With just a promise they turned on everyone. Rather not tangle with either force. Question is, what ur they doin here and how do we get through without getting caught by either?" If no suggestions are made, because Gromff has no answer and he doubted he'd get another spell to tread upon air, he brings the question to Ammanodai. "Ye think ye could do that teleport thing ye did yesterday but with us? We need ta get past this fight and further south and I don't trust either army. We're looking for a weapon of great power said to appear in the Wilds. If we can find it we might have something that can harm Ultruu himself."
One of the many hounds chimes in,
"Over the years of this war we have learned what we could about the Silvermane. They are wealthy, devoted, fierce, and powerful. They are a force to be reckoned with. They have seduced even some archons to fight at their sides, though none in this pack are of that mindset. We acknowledge they are a powerful tool against evil, though their actions tend to further their own cause more than that of freedom for all. I do not believe they are to be fully trusted."
If no suggestions are made, because Gromff has no answer and he doubted he'd get another spell to tread upon air, he brings the question to Ammanodai. "Ye think ye could do that teleport thing ye did yesterday but with us? We need ta get past this fight and further south and I don't trust either army. We're looking for a weapon of great power said to appear in the Wilds. If we can find it we might have something that can harm Ultruu himself."
"Would that we could, it would be done, good priest. Limited, our powers of transport are. The small elf child, we could likely teleport with due to her stature, though larger loads we are incapable of transporting in this fashion."
Scratching his chin, he offers a possible solution,
"A rugged trail there is to the south, running in terrain too difficult to bring an army through, but to a small mobile group such as yours it would be a viable trek. Circumvent both armies' flanks you could, by taking this route I believe. Unable to follow, your horses would be, and yet this seems a good option to me. What say you?"
A female hound, younger-looking than most and filled with the brash energy of youth, throws out an idea of her own,
"We could scout the Sin Army, and wait for a break in the line or for when the line grows sparse. We could attack the weakened line to run interference while you good folks make a break for it, riding your warhorses right past them!"
Her enthusiasm is contagious, easily infecting even some of the more seasoned veterans of the group, shown by a series of nods and half-smiles. Some of this group were clearly still eager to bring the pain to their wicked enemies!
"In the Celestial runic alphabet it is a Klee, but the closest translation in the common tongue of men is the letter 'C'."
She nods and, scribbling some symbols, responds "Yes, Celestial is fine... preferred even..."
- - - - -
"I've heard answers to prayers; conveyed emotions of joy and righteous fury; even calls to arms. Never with words, you see, the gods are seldom so direct with us mortalkind, though we archons admittedly have a closer relationship than Atma-bound mortals."
She nods, quit for a moment.
Hmm... they think themselves as mortals too... Well, I guess that is correct... though not in the same sense that we think ourselves mortal...
"I understand what you mean, Radiant One. Though what, if I may ask of thee, actions have these communications lead you to so far?"
- - - - -
Veronica nods at the mention of slipping past the armies, believing that the Archons would know best this enemy. But when the young one mentions of creating a distraction, the Paladin frowns for a moment. "Please, do not do that for our own sakes. This encampment, and what it may see and accomplish, are too important to chance if we might already slip past."
Gromff rolls his eyes at the youth. It seems even Divine beings had to deal with naive children. But keeping the horses would be important. The little girl wouldn't be able to keep going for long and the land to the south was expansive. Plus, most seemed eager to fight. He looks at Ammanodai and shrugs. He'll leave that call up to the Archon, only adding "Lot o land to the south. Like ta keep the horses but seeing as the weapon is more likely ta find us then the other way, doubt it will matter."
"A decision to make, it need not be made straight away. Worry and wear I see in your eyes. Let us rest and pray. Clear, your path will be!"
"I understand what you mean, Radiant One. Though what, if I may ask of thee, actions have these communications lead you to so far?"
The old mastiff continued,
"I will not forget the day that Ultruu punched a hole into your world. It is said that he was subdued on an island deep out to sea in the blood oceans of his own realm - the 7th layer. [of hell]. He was imprisoned there for crimes against existence, bound by forces of good and evil alike, sealed with a pact that could only be broken under exceptional circumstances. Suffice it to say that those circumstances were achieved and he quickly reasserted himself as ruler of his realm, but his ambition was far from stifled by this temporary setback.""It is believed that around this time somewhere on the edge of the universe where the outskirts of heaven brush the edges of hell, a being was conceived by a lustful angel and a demoness. Their spawn sent shivers throughout the multiverse, for nothing like their offspring had ever before been created. That being soon found its way to the prime material plane, drawn to the thrum of magical might that centered at the ley line nexus of Mylosis city. It is believed that this being tore away at the fabric of your world upon its entry, and that the tear became a gaping wound through which Ultruu and his armies of evil made their way."
"It was at this time that my blade clanged like a great bell, signaling to me and my kind to ready ourselves. The vibrations were intense, sending tremors up my arms and through my very soul. The will of the deities of goodness, neutrality, and even those of wickedness were simultaneously reaching out to beings across the planes, conscripting forces for war! It was time to join a great battle, one that would have effects that would last for all time."
"A beacon was sent, signaling a muster point here in your world. It was then that I first set foot on Atma and joined in this fight."
- - - - -
Veronica nods at the mention of slipping past the armies, believing that the Archons would know best this enemy. But when the young one mentions of creating a distraction, the Paladin frowns for a moment. "Please, do not do that for our own sakes. This encampment, and what it may see and accomplish, are too important to chance if we might already slip past."
"Your concern is noted and noble, though misplaced. If we opt to attack or simply scout a safe route, neither action will risk the revelation of our safe haven. Your fight is our fight. We want only to aid your passage onto the next stage of your journey."
"I'd rather go the quiet route. Better neither side knows were here."
Veronica scribbles furiously, scrolling the long bandage as she goes, as she records notes as the Mastiff speaks. Finally, she speak up. "You must have seen much, of Radiant One. But, I wonder, why wouldst Ultruu's breaking into our world trigger the Gods into such a war? What was so special about him?"
- - - - -
Veronica nods at the Archons. It isn't her place to judge their wants and decisions, even of their youngest.
But still... it didn't sit right with her. She thought back to her time in the monastery, at how many stories turned impossible odds into personal challenges, and small sacrifices into large miracles. "Still, a tougher route may be the better. A test of ourselves, but also a show of our strength and dedication."
Veronica scribbles furiously, scrolling the long bandage as she goes, as she records notes as the Mastiff speaks. Finally, she speak up. "You must have seen much, of Radiant One. But, I wonder, why wouldst Ultruu's breaking into our world trigger the Gods into such a war? What was so special about him?"
"When a being makes the ascension to godhood it creates a terrible imbalance in the very essence of the universe. This nascent devil lord's path has threatened everything -- literally every thing!"
"The mortal archmage master of Mylosis seemed to foresee this and took the steps necessary to make a divine ascension himself. Battleborn was a man of goodness though prone to chaotic flights of fancy. His moral fiber was luckily - if you believe in luck - an effective counterweight to the rigid calculated wickedness that permeates the nine hells. Whilst Battleborn exists as a demi-god, the imbalance of Ultruu's ascension is mitigated somewhat, and so the delicate balance of the universe is restored, at least for the time being."
|
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Meanwhile working with the armor, Catcher takes a break to help the decision-making.
”It’s appreciated the extent you are willing to sacrifice and risk for our sake.” she says addressing the hound pup and the leader ”But even if you are eager to battle the army of sin, having them knowing about us isn’t something we can afford. There’s far more at stake than just our personal safety. We are in a quest to help end this war, and our intention is to verify some myths; the spear, the hags, the harbingers.”
What she says does not says is that, the fact of being indebted to them, or even sacrificing the archons to help in their quest isn’t something that she’ll accept. That’s the same as accepting help from the gods themselves; at least it’s how she sees it. And that isn’t something she can do.
”Should we move out Gromff?” she asks distractedly thinking about when she’ll be able to finish the armor.
Gromff's eyes wander over the gathered Archons. Divine warriors all, beings that had actually met the gods. He not only wanted to stay but fight along side them as well. But a dwarf's since of duty was stronger than that. "Yes. Every day Ultruu's army grows bigger. Can't waste any time."
The crisp cold night air chills your wet scaly hide, still dripping from your recent emergence from the reservoir's surface. Lifting steadily into the air on powerful wings, your mind runs in circles, fury pounding in your horned temples at the image of the mighty sleeping wyrm. Tempestuous at this setback, you are eager to find an outlet for your rage...
Having already put several miles of swampland behind you, a sudden impulse occurs to you; a delightfully destructive idea that will wreak havoc and will certainly blow off some of this steam...
The imagery of whatever Asariel was plotting was a fleeting image of the dammed reservoir, but the mental connection faded before any cognitive assessment could occur.
Veronica is quite for a moment, thinking about what the Mastiff had said.
How does a mortal ascend to godhood? And if so, why do more not ascend? Why do the goodly gods not push for more ascensions? Or do they already? And if they do, why do they fail so often?
But she broke out of her thoughts to speak up. "What good does it do the Evil ones to threaten existence? Surely they must find more pleasure in ruling it than destroying it..."
- - - - -
Gromf snaps out of the connection and looks back the way they came to the fort near the damn. He squints as if trying to spot a speck of green off in the distance he knew to be somewhere out there. He could feel the anger and knew no mental prob of his would go through. So he shakes his head. "Fool girl. What are ye even looking for?"
"Guess its decided. Take the eastern route. See if we can't bring the horses. If not," he leaves the statement unfinished with a shrug. "Oh, Ammanodai, might want ta stay away from the fort tonight. If I missed me guess, it ain't going ta be there much longer."
But she broke out of her thoughts to speak up. "What good does it do the Evil ones to threaten existence? Surely they must find more pleasure in ruling it than destroying it..."
"Your queries speak to the wisdom you hold in your heart, and that is good, for without such questioning one cannot come to a true understanding of the world around them."
"Allow me to clarify; I was speaking in generalities. When I said it threatened existence, I meant that it threatened existence as we know it. When the forces of the cosmos are thrown into disorder and imbalance, the potential for disruption is thus on a cosmic scale. Gods must battle Gods; planes leak into and blend with one another; beings of all types are thrust into battles - both figurative and literal - for their very lives."
"In this chaos Ultruu could seize his chance to implement his own brand of order, which is something that I'm sure I need not explain is a thing best avoided."
-----
"Oh, Ammanodai, might want ta stay away from the fort tonight. If I missed me guess, it ain't going ta be there much longer."
The archon leader nods, then adds, "Appreciated, your warning and wisdom are. This night, though, we stay here in our forested refuge with you good people."
---------
The companions decided upon the continuance of their southward momentum instead of a prolonged rest.
After a long night's rest and a morning full of discussion with their furry heavenly friends, the companions said their goodbyes over a hot breakfast of pan-seared sausage links and a hearty potato mash prepared by their most recent road-friend Winston. The purported Consortium member thanked each and every one of the heroes for their protection and urged them on toward their destinies, whatever they may be. With admiration in his eyes he offered, "May our paths cross again someday!"
With saddlebags packed with gear and fresh provisions the friends set out from the secluded forest fort on horseback, thoughts focused on the uncertainty of the next leg of their journey. Several hounds insisted upon accompanying them for at least a short while, and so the group swelled to a troupe for a time, with all making haste toward the south east.
The wood was not friendly to horseback travel, being fraught with gnarled snagging roots, constant sharp up and down slants, and several firm streams that had no predictable area to ford. Despite the difficult terrain the troupe pressed ever onward, struggling but ultimately surmounting the challenge, spilling them out onto some sort of orchard alongside the wood's east end.
The orchard was lower in elevation than the precipice upon which the wood's edge lay, giving an excellent view of the surrounding countryside. Several burnt out farmhouses dotted the massive orchard's fields, adding to the general feel of despair that the endless lines of gray fruitless trees afforded. Looking eastward past the orchard was an elevated rise in the earth - a formation that stretched as far as the eye can see both northward and southward. The formation was composed of massive lines of slanted rock, seemingly laying atop one another like some colossal game of domino-line. It was steep enough that it appeared nearly impossible to climb with a fifteen-hundred pound warhorse in tow, and certainly daunting enough that no earthbound army would dream of traversing.
Taking advantage of the high ground to scout the dangers that awaited them in the south, the heroes were thwarted by a dense gray fog that hovered over the countryside, obscuring any possible view of the army or whatever else lay beyond the orchard's southern edge.
Veronica smiles at the compliments form the Archon. "I see. And let me thank you, Radiant One, for taking your time to tell me of your travels and of what brought this plague upon us. I shall not keep you, for I know you must have much to prepare for... But if you should decide to tell more stories... I wouldst me more than happy to record your tales."
- - - - -
Veronica takes no sausages at breakfast, instead taking some of the potatoes and mixing in a handful of crushed oats. And once the meal was done, as the others packed, she sought a quiet corner to pray in. There she knelt, a sharp blade in hand, as she closed her eyes and repeated the chants in her mind. Bringing her thumb across the blade, she then swept it along both wrists and traced the outlines of the scars on her forehead and along her eyes. As her prayers continued the blood quickly dried, and by the time she was done it had almost completely flaked away, though she felt as if she could still feel them.
When it comes time to leave she says her goodbyes with a heavy heart. She was not sure when she would be in such heavenly company again, and while part of her yearned to stay she also knew she had a bigger duty before her.
Their horses made slow progress, but it was steady enough. Veronica spent her time whispering gently to her steed, trying to keep it from growing agitated at the treacherous earth.
But soon enough they reached the rocks the Archons had spoken off. And indeed, no amount of comforting would giver her horse the ability to climb that. And upon those rocks her vision seemed even more clouded than normal, though the mumbling of her companions told her that it wasn't just her own vision, at least not this time.
Unsure of what lied ahead, she waited for her companions to discuss their continuance.
Veronica approaches the soldier, her face warm even without a smile. She steps within arms reach of him and stands there for a moment, glancing up and down him before staring back into his eyes.
And there her milky orbs rest for an almost uncomfortably long time before she reaches into her pack and retrieves a slightly hefty bag. Reaching into her belt pouch she also retrieves two dull platinum coins. She holds them out towards him and, in a low voice, says "Here, to helpst thou in thy travels. It is just some dry beans and a bit of money, but I hope it can keep thee full and content, if only for a few days."
Winston grows a silly half-smile, looking appreciatively at the unexpected boon in his palm.
"This is more than generous m'lady. This is more than enough to keep me fed for months, not to mention the beans. Thank you, thank you!"
Oh great. Climbing, Gromff thinks as he sees the obstacle ahead. Great slats of rock, too steep for an army and their horses. Going to be tough to navigate. That meant they would have to really on Roland for the most part.
He then looked down at the rows of dead trees and burnt homes. Recent damage? He'd have to get closer to know for sure. "Careful," he says over his shoulder. "Whatever did this might still be here." He then urges his mount forward down the easiest slope and into the orchard. And just so he didn't have to later, he hops down from the horse and leads it forward.
|
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Catcher prepares for the next part of their trek, making sure they have the necessary provisions.
As before, she keeps leading Walker’s horse, confident that in some battle situation, she might be able to control the horses.
As they arrive the formation was composed of massive lines of slanted rock, she starts thinking of ways to bypass the natural terrain. She makes a quick list of her resources, spells, scrolls and the individual strength of everyone in the party.
”Hey, Roland, I have a job for you…” the mage says preparing the necessary supplies to make her plan work.
”Well, what now?” she asks the others for any idea, how to deal with the situation.
"Unless there be a secret pass, looks like we're on foot. Bout time too. Me rump was gettin sore."
It was at the wood's edge that the accompanying archons bid the companions farewell, having successfully led them to the terrain that would hopefully allow them safe passage around the Army of Sin's east flank.
As the hounds turned back to the deep woods the companions' mounts trotted down into the bowl depression that was once an orchard - an apple orchard apparently, as evidenced by a scarce few shriveled fruits that hung from the occasional brittle gray tree. They passed tipped-over ladders that once aided in harvesting from the higher limbs; they observed a handful of sun-bleached skeletons, leaving little remaining evidence as to the manner of their death, but based on the burnt-out remains of the farm houses one can assume they died to reavers or something similar.
The ride was relatively quick on horseback, and so the companions passed over the barren orchard and arrived at base of the steep rock formation in short order.
After Catcher offers her plan and the specific terrain is close enough to be scrutinized, it seems that the plan is a viable one! The climb would be difficult but not impossible for the group, and would be made easier with some clever rope use and helping hands to pull one another up each tier of slanted mountain stone. Using this basic plan of action, a magically-enhanced Roland could lift each horse one by one past the less horse-friendly jumps in elevation.
For nearly an hour the party brainstorms various ideas about how to best overcome the obstacle before them --
A pair rides off north a short ways, another pair south, each scouting for the best area to make the first steps of the climb. Some one points out an area of the slanted rocks that appears to be easy climbing, but then another points out that it leads to impassable overhangs. Some one describes how to best use the rope to aid the ascent of the less strong members of the group, and another offers a better orientation to accomplish the same goal. Catcher offers the use of strength-enhancing magic, Gromff offers the same via a wand, and Veronica shares her robes of carrying -- all of which combined will allow Roland to carry the nearly one-ton warhorses as if they were little more burdensome than a salted side of pig.
The plans were laid, the party agreed upon the implementations, and the magicks were unleashed! Roland, knowing that the arcane clock was ticking, went to work straight away with his job. With a scandalized whinny, the first warhorse protested as the largebarian lifted it bodily and thrust it up to higher tier of rock. Gromff was already there, waiting to guide the beast's legs to a firm footing. The warhorse landed proudly, prancing away from Gromff to regain some of its dignity, then looked down at the gathering of its equine brothers and sisters.
This ledge and the the next were only big enough to safely (relatively) hold two horses, and so it was decided to bring up the horses in pairs. Roland and Gromff worked in tandem lifting and receiving their beasts of burden up the steep mountain face, while Veronica climbed on her own, bringing up up saddlebags and packs to the next tier up. Catcher remained below at ground level, sitting with Aersensi and Walker at the edge of the orchard, knowing they would need her full attention to stay out of trouble - and stay in sight.
After careful use of timing Roland and Gromff have managed to bring a pair of horses all the way to the top of the stone rise, arriving at a somewhat level flat plane where the party will be able to ride south for much of the length of the rock line. After tying the horses reins to a hearty tree that grows out of the rock face, the mighty pair was about to begin their descent back to ground level when suddenly -- Gromff feels another vision overcome his consciousness in mid climb -- Roland grabbed the dwarf by his shirt and hauled him backward to a safe position and sat him down -- the warpriest's eyes were white and glossed, rolled to the back on his head...
Slam! Slosh! Slam! Slosh!
Your rage was being unleashed in a flailing fury of claws, tearing at the earthen dam that held back the massive Green Pools Reservoir. Your scaly hands and feet ripped away at the packed earth, sending massive wet chunks flying with every swipe. Already the cold waters had begun to escape through the 'V' shaped gouge that you created, growing in speed and intensity with every moment, plunging hundreds of feet to the land below.
This was going swimmingly...better even than you had anticipated. With a dragon's perfection of physique, it seemed that almost nothing could stand against you. This dam was little more than a silly pile of pathetic sand and grass to you, and it was deteriorating fast...
Gromff grabs his head as a bout of vertigo nearly sends him over. "Alright, that's it." Gromff says, backing away from the edge. He pulls the stone out of his pocket and concentrates. He sends a string of the worst dwarven curses he can think of as loud as he can think them until either his head pops or she responds.
Gromff:
As you reassert yourself and channel your own loud thoughts into the blue keystone, the first-person sensations cease immediately. Before the string of ancient dwarven curses has even finished you sense a response - the dragon heard you.
You sense agitation and alertness followed by a profound rage that manifests as a buzzing vibration and searing heat from the gem. Asariel's inner voice is heard inside your mind, think-speaking in the tongue of mountain dwarves --
"A dwarf? Who are you? Where are you? By the stones, you will regret this, I assure you."
---------
Aersensi cannot hold back her exuberance at all the interesting things to see, and so Catcher has a hard time keeping up as the child climbs trees, picks up old rusty tools, and sprints down the abandoned farm lanes. The spellsword paused by a tree that the elf child was hiding behind when a flash of gleaming steel to the south caught her eye -- it was a contingent of soldiers, marching north, just arriving at the southern end of the orchard about a half-mile away.
By the...don't ye use me on me own curses. Who do ye think ye durn fool lizard. Bout time ye listened. I know what yer doin. Drain the water and wake the dragon. Ye can't fight that thing. Things so old there's legends about it. And age is power for dragons. And what about the childurn? Don't tell me ye left them in the care o that lizard priest? And I saw ye attack me own people. Don't think I'm going to forget about that either. Stop acting like a durned child, throwing a tantrum. Even Aersensi is less a one.
"Ah, yes...I remember you now...you slew my azure pet dragon and fled from my lair. I remember your scent, and that of your friends as well..."
"The...the children?"
You sense a sudden confusion, a sudden shock that induced a clarity of thought, followed by shame.
"They are safe in my pseudo-plane for now, yes, they are fine and well."
This shame begins to burn, followed by immense anxiety.
"They must be safe! I...I must be certain!"
The flow of thoughts and emotions ceases abruptly.
The young mage wasted no time by scooping up the child in her arms and turned to run back toward the friends at full speed. Arriving back at the base of the steep rocks, she shouted upward to the pair of warriors at the top to alert them to the oncoming danger.
Though the pair heard the spellsword's call, they both had distractions of their own that demanded attention. The warpriest was focused on the goings-on in his head, his own inner voice being channeled through the ancient magic imbued inside the blue keystone. More to the point, the barbarian's view was locked in a northward stance, trying to discern what he thought he was seeing -- but dared not believe true. As the tense moments went by the realization sank in, giving him little choice but to act on the profound sight before him --
Veronica gripped her cloak tightly around her, feeling oddly vulnerable without her robes, even if she still wore her armor. And as Roland did the heavy lifting, she had distracted herself with helping to keep the horses calm, speaking softly in celestial. "Keep calm, might one. We just want to bring thee with us on our glorious journey. And when we have reached the top I shall give thee some oats and carrots, a nice treat for such a brave stallion..."
Then, suddenly, she seemed alone. Gromff had, once again, taken to tending to that orb of his just as Catcher had run off to tend to the child. Even Roland had taken a break to look out over the grand distance from their vantage point.
I wonder if they are ever annoyed by my inability to scout? Do they consider it burdensome? Not that I would trade it for the reverse, mind you...
But she is broken from her thoughts by Roland's cry of warning. For a moment she is unsure of what to do, of where to go. She knew not the direction of the flood, nor the direction to flee. So instead took to looking for shelter, a place that might guard them from the initial onslaught of water.
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.........................................................../...Slanted..... \
........................................................../...Stones....... \
WOODS____........................................../..................\
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....................\______Orchard_________/........................\
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