Gromff grunts in approval, thinking he'd finally gotten through to the childish dragon and gotten her to stop making trouble. Unfortunately, it was not quick enough. She had weakened the damn and apparently, they were in the way.
Needing little in the way of prodding, Veronica sprinted to Walker's side to help him mount up, confident that Catcher had the elf child taken care of. Without hesitation each rider spurred their horse into action the moment their rump met the saddle, and off the three horses and riders rode toward the higher ground of the forest some five-hundred feet away. Dirt clods and dried apple husks were tossed up behind the furious pounding of hooves, riding through the lifeless gray lines of fruit trees. Birds leapt into the air, beating their wings to leave the treacherous earth behind. A multitude of hedgehogs, field mice, and rabbits emerged from their burrows, all sprinting alongside the fleeing companions in a last attempt to reach safety.
The very ground beneath everyone's feet began to tremble with the might of the oncoming flash flood. It could be felt reverberating through both mounts and elevated stone. A low thunderous rumble grew ever louder as the sloshing waters rushed along, rapidly becoming torrent that grated on the ears, promising death and destruction with each passing moment. Any who ventured to look north to observe its progress saw the waters enveloping the land at a staggering rate, consuming the dry forsaken orchard in cleansing waters of doom.
The paladin and spellsword saw the forest incline closing in, and saw the churned hoof prints that marked their recent passage out of the wood. Up they rode, rising to a plane that appeared much higher than the dangerous terrain below, seemingly placing them out of the path of the rushing tide of water. It was then that they saw the Walker, struggling to keep his mount up to speed, lingering behind nearly a hundred feet shy of the incline.
Time seemed to slow down for a moment as everyone saw their holy road companion about to be swallowed up by the tide, everyone knowing there was simply not sufficient time to save the man from his fate.
Aersensi cried out shrilly to her old friend, "WALKER!"
A sudden burst of leathery flesh and bone slammed into Catcher, nearly dismounting her in the process. Aersensi, who was just moments ago riding with the spellsword, had just leapt into the air upon twenty-foot wings of black and red leathery scales, similar to that of some colossal bat...or worse. Zipping through the air with unnatural speed, she swooped toward the old man and scooped him up into her tiny arms, lifting him to safety. In the breath of that same moment his mount was swallowed up by the rushing tide, disappearing amongst a sea of frothing, churning water filled with hundreds of uprooted trees and detritus.
The winged elf child's wings beat against the air, then circled back toward the wood where her friends waited. With the old man in her arms, her wings flapped rapidly to slow her descent as if it were second nature, safely and softly placing the confused old man down before she herself followed suit. The mysterious wings withdrew into her shoulders from whence they came, leaving not a trace of their existence.
Catcher and Veroinca stood there at the forest's edge, listening to the waters rushing by and the sobs of the elf child who lay strewn across Walker, holding him in a loving embrace.
Veronica had turned her head when she heard the girl cry out. She could just make out the blurry form of the old man at the edge of her vision, unable to focus with the jostle of her mount. And just as she thought she might turn for him the girl had lept and grew... wings.
What sorcery is this?! The girl is... is what?
She turned back to guide her mount, stopping and twisting the horse when she heard the crash of the wave and felt the spray of water across her back. And as the girl lay there with the old man, her wings now nothing but an after-image burned into Veronica's mind, the holy warrior just stared, unsure of what to do.
Black and red wings... not an image from the heavenly hosts... What is she?...
"Bless me beard," Gromff says, momentarily stunned at the wall of water. He was too late to stop Asariel apparently. And now a tidal wave was roaring towards them. He was too awestruck to even call a warning to Catcher and them to ride to safety. Thankfully they were way ahead. Except Walker who appeared to be falling behind. Horrified, Gromff could only watch as the old man was swept away. Who knows what devastation his death would cause considering, he was holding on to the soul of a powerful demon. Then wings appeared from apparently nowhere, swept over the old man and carried him to safety. For a moment, Gromff thought Asariel had come to save them, but it wasn't a dragon. He couldn't really tell what was going on over there but they all appeared to be safe. Only now a massive river separated them. Guess it was time to wait.
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Full of surprises…
The mage watches the girl turning into something and flying to save the old man. Catcher blamed herself for that. She should have taken more care with the old man, made sure his horse was tied to hers, lead him to safety.
And took long enough. Considering what Asariel is capable of, Catcher was surprised that it took this long for Aersensi reveal more of her powers.
She walks closer to the girl, and pat her head smiling. ”I’m so very proud of you.” and says nothing else.
They would need to abandon their horses or find a way to cross the river. Catcher had some ideas about how to do it, but surely, the horses would not cooperate…
"YOU OKAY?" Gromff yells from the other side.
"MAYBE AFTER THE WATER CALMS DOWN. SIT TIGHT!" he yells in response. They were well and good separated for now. On the bright side, whatever army was coming, ain't now.
The teary-eyed little girl looked up at Catcher, looking contrite but hopeful, relieved that the mage wasn't upset with her.
"You...You're proud? I didn't mean to do it, I just had to save him!"
She stood up from where she knelt at Walker's side and buried her face in Catcher's belly, sobbing a bit more, unleashing her emotions that had been stoked by the recent potentially-traumatic excitement.
While the child let out her tears, the party - on both sides of the suddenly-present river - watched in awe at the destructive power that lay before them. Tree trunks both large and small were carried along in the flow, tumbling up and over revealing broken roots ripped cleanly out of the ground. Broken planks of wood appeared occasionally, likely from some washed out shack or wagon. The water flowed ever southward, certainly sweeping away the unfortunate contingent of soldiers and much of what lay beyond.
Somewhat suddenly, after what must have been a minimum of thirty minutes, the powerful currents of water ceased. Replacing the torrent was a gently flowing river, fully five hundred feet wide at this point, about knee-deep (for a human). Not a single tree remained from the orchard, nor was there any evidence of farm dwellings or sheds. Where the water had subsided one could see gouge marks in the stone and soil where loose rocks and trees rushed along in the wake, adding to the destructive force of the waters.
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Smiling again as the girl cry some more she answers ”Of course I am, silly. You just saved Walker when none of us could have done it.”
She kisses the girl forehead and keep there, sitting and rocking the girl back and forth gently until she calms down.
I wonder if she can control the appearance of the wings...
--
After the water calm down, she sits Grandpa and Aersensi on her horse, and led the animal by the reins to the other side, once there, it’s they’ll have to make do and climb the horses.
Veronica realized she had been staring and quickly averts her gaze, only to look back when the girls tears start to flow. A small smile betraying both guilt and embarrassment found its way onto her face as she watched Catcher comfort the girl.
What the child did was selfless, if nothing else... Though what may be corruption worries me... as it does with Catcher's practices... But still, there seems to be real love there... Or at least the spark of it... But that must be enough, for now at least... We have too much to do for me to overly concern myself with this...
Veronica briefly bows her head, offering a prayer of thanks to the gods for protecting them, for keeping them safe. Quickly done, she takes a deep breath before using her cloak to dry the horses. Her body could easily withstand the cold and wind that would surely follow such a torrent, but the horses might not be so hardy.
- - - - -
When Veronica sees Catcher starting to walk she pulls her horse up alongside and says "No need for that. I pack light, so why not let Sir Walker ride alongside me? And thee can ridest with Aersensi."
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”Maybe, we’ll see how to deal with things when, if, we start the trip.” Catcher answers when Veronica offers to take Walker. She knew there is no way she would walk while the others were mounted.
After considering the options, she asks Gromff ”What about now? Can we use the same tactics to climb the other horses?”
"Best ta keep doin what we're doin. They'll send scouts soon ta find out what happened. Need ta be gone when they do. We do not want ta be blamed fer this er they'll hunt us down." Gromff pulls out his wand and starts casting on Roland, the oddly silent, to get the last of the horses over the cliffs.
If only we were so lucky Catcher... if only...
Veronica nods at Gromff's suggestion. "Indeed. Also, all of the flowing water will do a fine job of covering any tracks left by our horses."
With more voting in favor of sticking to the original plan, Roland and Gromff climbed down to the shallow waters to begin a second round of shuffle the horses. After half an hour of strategic positioning, clever rope use, and a few taps of magical strength-enhancing magic, the entire party (minus one unfortunate steed) stood upon the high bluffs of the stone, looking down at the new glistening river that flowed southward.
The stone formation's top layer was luckily mostly flat and nearly level for long stretches, making for very easy travel. As the day pressed on the normally unshakable upbeat attitude was noticeably absent from the gentle elf child. Her demeanor was sad and introverted, though her beautiful gold and silver hair still shone brightly in the sunlight. Catcher remained near her and Walker, ensuring that they stayed safe and kept up with the pace.
By this time of day the woods where the archons made their haven - the woods where some of the party rose to safety from the rushing waters - was left far behind. From the vantage point this high, the bluffs can be seen to go on southward for many miles in the distance, eventually blending into a wider-spread area of red rocky landscape nearly bereft of trees. To the east are lands comprised of green hills interspersed with stony protrusions at most hilltops, while the west is a still-wet plain that almost appeared to be a widespread rippling lake. The waters seemed to have dispersed over a large enough area that it wasn't moving anymore, indicating the ground beneath it was likely flat and featureless.
After a couple hours have gone by the companions grow closer to a scene of death and destruction on the west side of the stones; it is a scene that displays the fate of the eastern flank of the Sin Army. Hundreds - maybe thousands of limp human (and humanoid) figures float in the shallow waters looking like broken rag dolls. Most of them are armored and stationary, indicating the waters here are quite shallow, though not deep enough to dissuade the scores of vultures, crows, and other carrion birds from landing for their share of the feast. Massive piles of uprooted trees and broken war machines have collected at several points of water flow. The bodies that float are gently flowing southward among scattered intact farm houses and still-rooted trees that lie within this flood zone. A couple of miles further west is the bulk of the army, undamaged and intact, but likely well out of range to observe the passing companions.
Opting to press on before the army makes its way back in this direction, the companions continue their southward trek atop the stones. Further south-southwest is the 2nd army that the archons spoke of - an army of impressive size - an army that purportedly belonged to the Silvermane Sovereignty. Pausing to observe them for some time, it appeared that this army was on a north-northwest march, which conveniently moved them away from the stony bluffs and the companions' trajectory. It looked like they were moving to engage their counterparts who were currently dealing with the loss of an entire flank.
All of this seemed to play into the hands of the heroes who happily picked up their pace and traveled onward. After several more hours the high rocks upon which they traveled slowly began a descent that eventually landed the party on the ground level again. It seemed that the odd nature of the leaning tiers of stone played to their advantage at this southern end of the rocks, providing a gentle slope to lead them back down.
The slanted ends of this stone dumped the companions into a rocky badland of red and yellow stone. Jutting rocks, narrow canyons and unseen twists and turns seemed to dominate the landscape in all directions except north. It appeared that the friends had finally arrived at the cusp of the lands commonly referred to as the Untamed Wilds.
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Weird. Everything was going weird. The world seemed to be drawing to an end in a haste, and Roland stopped talking, impressed with the actual flow of events. They were already rushing against the time and going somewhere they did not know, but then there was this item to be found, and they also had no clue, right?
Well, as if that was not enough, they were attacked in the middle of the night by Fey creatures, and his companions kept trying to go different ways, so it was best to keep quiet and let them be happy with their choices. After all, they ended up not having much choice, since two soldiers came to "rescue" them on the earth dam. The soldier's argument made all sense, but they didn't trust them anyway, thinking it was some kind of trap or something. Of course circumstance had proven that it was best to be cautious in these cases, but common, they needed a freaking rest.
Then Gromff saw a freaking dragon seeing another dragon, or something like that. It was too much information for Roland to bear, specially since the dwarf only mentioned pieces of what he was seeing and they did not get the actual big picture of what was happening.
And when the guards heard Aersensi's name, the good cop killed the bad cop, so to speak. Of course they had no idea if he was being honest or not, but it was more likely he was, in his opinion. Gosh, his argument made all sense, but the wizard kept causing trouble. It was impressive how the rest of the consortium kept showing here and there to help them. Roland felt satisfied with the realization, and although he believed everything would work out in the end, if they had help it would be easier.
So they went south, although the barbarian wanted to infiltrate the fortress. He didn't speak his mind because certainly Aersensi would be noticed. He needed to speak with her and give the idea to try to change her appearance, to match Catcher, Tessandriel or whoever she wanted. At least not an elf child.
Anyway, everything worked out in the end, as they went around the fortress without further problems. Of course the wizard had to keep bothering the poor soldier, but well, at least Veronica and the dwarf were helpful controlling her. He was too tired to argue.
But of course, Murphy sometimes likes to show off his theory, and if they were not tired enough there was a freaking abomination in their path. Roland didn't say anything. He just moved and fought and killed to solve the problem as fast as he could. It was not fast enough, of course, as Veronica, Catcher and himself almost died once more. He was astonished, though, to realize his companions were trying to avoid dealing with the problem, as if it was not a situation that needed solving, or if it was none of their business. Maybe they would need to talk that out eventually, but for now dragging them into combat did the trick.
Roland just watched as they met the hound pack, wondering if Zelesti was there and if she would cause them a problem. She didn't have any facts against them, actually, but her mind was kinda twisted so the meeting was best avoided. Fortunately she was not there to bother, which made Roland question if she was alright or fell into another trap. After all she left without much equipment to care for herself. Anyway the archon could teleport here and there, so she was best served than they were, to say the least.
The conversation was interesting, though. Although the wizard once again tried to ruin everything, the archons were good folk, and she ended up apologizing to them. The barbarian tried to think about it, but he did not recall any other time the wizard actually apologized to anyone. It was impressive... Maybe his contemplative state did good to her demeanor, who knows?
He knew it was very funny to see the girl destroying the tokens that held the souls. It seemed like she didn't care about it, but was performing the task anyway, much like Roland did. Maybe there was a good future ahead of the girl, perhaps she would eventually be a beacon of hope just like the barbarian. He laughed thinking about the compliment the archon made, total non-sense. If only they knew me... Either way, he let her have her moment, watching from afar, to make sure no object goes undamaged, since he would have done the same thing had she not taken to it.
He enjoys the company of the archons, specially since they are not crazy as Zelesti, and introduces himself with his real name. The contemplative barbarian notices they have great respect for "grandpa" and eventually he seeks their leader to speak in private.
The armies that lay between them and the untamed lands were a different subject. He didn't see any reason for them to be there, in the middle of nowhere, and he thought their presence there was the indication that there was actually something hidden in that place. As far as he could tell, the devil hoard had no reason to guard the north area, as the Silvermane had no reason to defend the south, miles away from any city. Either there was something between them, or the armies had some other motive they didn't understand so far.
The barbarian was not clever enough to figure it out past that, and even thought he would like to bull rush that army, he knew it was pointless, specially because he would not be in the fighting party with the hounds, but only trying to get through the army while the others were the diversion.
And there was more to think about, there was this chain of apparently artificial stones holding the devil's army in place, but weirder than that was the rush of water that came their way. Roland just called out and watched as the water came, to fast and furious to withstand, and there, in middle of it, there was Walker. He wanted to go there and Rozan Shō Ryū Ha to make the water run backwards, but he knew how useless he was in that case. Grandpa was doomed, and they had not find the spear yet, so the monster inside him would go mo-mo-mo-mo-monster kill.
But not everything is ashes in the life of an adventurer, and the mystery girl saves the day, letting Roland wonder what couldn't she do. They should probably start giving her ideas on how to use her powers. Anyway, the day was saved for now, and the armies didn't seem to be a problem for them, which of course didn't answer the question about what they were doing there.
"If we are far enough from the army scouts, I suggest we camp for the night."
"How do we know?" He pretends to be confused. "What did I hire you for?"
"We don't. But we're probably plenty far. And you're way out o spells. Best inform ye as ta what Asariel's been doin too." Using his still on a rope (he was getting pretty good at that) he hops down and searches for a nice dry spot to set up camp. Somewhere shielded from the sky to prevent aerial detection. He starts no fire as that wold be too visible. "The day afore I tried ta git an image of what Asariel was doin. Saw her swimmin through water, slayin evil water creatures and goin inta big rock dome. Nothing strange til she came upon a giant sleeping dragon. The dragon. The ones she been foolin as. As you might expect I was more than a little concerned but she left it be. Thought she might be commin round. Didn't see a point in sayin anythin because o that. Then today I seen another image, her rippin through that damn a ways back. I tried sayin somthin ta her last time but it didn't go through. This time I said, or thought, a little louder and she finally heard. I reminded her o her duty to them childurn back at the falls. That seemed ta set her straight. Just not afore she got through enough o that damn apparently. Unfortunately, without all that water, the real dragon might just wake up. That means a whole nother side ta this fight. And if it finds Asariel we'll be down a Harbinger no doubt about that."
Gromff rubs his temples, trying to relieve all the new stress pounding at his head. "Need to babysit that durned fool but we can't all the way out here. She's been more mature than the other.," he says indicating the elf girl.
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”Of course she is.” Catcher says hugging the little girl ”How come one this cute isn’t mature enough?” she says daring the others to contradict her while messing around with Aersensi. The girl had been a little down recently and Catcher could only think that keeping things normal was the best way to deal with the situation, at least for now. Later if she would need to sit down and talk. Instead of talking she proceeds to mess with the girls hair, tickle the little girl trying to get back that smile.
”So what now? We just roam aimlessly in the wilds hoping the weapon will find us?”
Roland scratches his chin, thinking about how much more complicated their life could be with a second dragon - bigger and stronger - flying around. They were pretty much damned anyway, it would not change much. "She was underwater, then? Weird..."
He stares at the emptiness of the land for some seconds, looking for something that was not there. "We will find something girl. I'm sure about it."
Veronica looks at the Dwarf curiously for a moment. "Asariel... that would be the dragon thee spokest of back at the lake, right?... But this Asariel must believe that it canst slay the... real dragon... or else why would it have done something to wake it up? Or is there some plan of action that we do not understand?"
And when the conversation turns to what to do next, Veronica does not feel as if she knows an better than the rest of them. Before she had joined the group she had wandered with no real purpose. To her this seemed much the same. So instead she just listened, nodding at the terse truth that Roland added, and waited to see if any more came for her to pray about that night and the next morning.
- - - - -
Once conversation had calmed and the group settled down for the night, Veronica approached Roland, her cloak clutched tightly around her armor. "If thee doest not mind, Sir Roland, could I have my robes back? I must admit to feeling a little uncomfortable without them."
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”No Veronica! Don’t go on agreeing with him! That only causes problems!” the mage alert the innocent woman about the barbarian. Nothing good would come about her boosting his ego and agreeing with his words.
She then turns to Gromff, but speaking loud enough so Veronica would hear as well ”Recent events proved that Moradin is quite the talkative guy, when you try to listen to him.” she says half mocking, half serious, half something else that even she didn’t knew about ”So, did he said anything else?”
The companions set up their campsite against a jutting rock as they had done several times before, hoping to close off line of sight from several directions in order to avoid enemy detection. The warpriest calls for a cold-camp, wanting to give any unfriendly eyes no chance to discover the southbound friends' resting place.
A cold wind blew from the north upon the badlands, laced with a humidity that gave a biting edge that cut through clothes and blankets alike. Veronica's magic warm fire was noticeably absent for these cold hours, which made it difficult to stay asleep for some.
Adding a further degree of unease for the evening, toward the end of first watch a faint glowing appeared to the south in one of the many narrow canyon crevices that were observed in the last light of day before night settled in. It was a distant steady glow, most likely firelight, though no more details could be ascertained from this far away.
"Sure" answers Roland to the Oracle, still not sure why he was using that either way. He uses the opportunity to show the wizard his mighty tongue once again.
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Roland, who was on the first shift simply because he posted first, waked the dwarf and Veronica, leaving the wizard have her beauty sleep in peace. It was for the best, of course. "I think we should go there and investigate. If they are lighting a fire, that means they are not devils, right? We have no actual direction nor any ideas of reference inside this wasteland. We should take the opportunity, imagine if they are travelers who know this place..."
Veronica nods at the barbarian and gently adds "Thank thee, both for my garments return and for all of the effort bringing the horses back along. Again, it twas an impressive show of strength, Sir Roland."
She struts off back to her camp, where she kneels and gives a quick prayer before throwing her robes on over her armor. Laying down on her bed roll, she snuggles over with her blanket , cloak, and robes, barely even noticing the cutting wind of the rocky planes. But when she settles into her sleeping position she catches the faint smell of sweat, of Roland's sweat, coming from her robes.
She blushes for a moment, not finding the scent unpleasant, and in fact unsure of how to feel about it at all. Her thoughts race for a few moments before she calms her mind with the repeat of her prayers, drifting off into a pleasant sleep.
- - - - -
She awakens to a hand on her shoulder, her eyes quickly opening to see Roland standing over her. Her face blushes, her mind racing, before Roland whispers of the light across the rocks. Gathering her wits, she glances in the direction he points, able to maybe see a somewhat lighter patch of blur than the rest.
"Apologies, but I am neither stealthy, nor a good scout." She does her best to hide any sign of concern from her face, what with this broaching exactly the worries she had earlier that day.
"Maybe it would be best if I stayed here and kept a watch over Catcher and the camp."
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”See there dear?” she asks Aersensi when Roland starts to showing his tongue to others. ”You have to promise me you’ll grow up to be a fine woman, not something like that.”
Veronica nods at the barbarian and gently adds "Thank thee, both for my garments return and for all of the effort bringing the horses back along. Again, it twas an impressive show of strength, Sir Roland."
What’s up with her? Catcher sulks as the other woman start to get friendly and friendlier with the barbarian.
Can’t she not see it’ll only make things worse? she thinks and then Yeah, right, she is blind, that’s the only explanation.--
She sleeps without realizing something is afoot.
In her dreams, she was fighting Roland. The reason she couldn’t remember, but it was one drop too much and violence was employed to solve the situation.
Gromff sat in his mighty throne amongst the mountains in the clouds and was unconcerned with their fight: It didn’t mattered to him; he was drinking beer with his buddy Moradin and watching elves singing and reading poetry.
As the battle proceed, it was clear the Barbarian was no match for her. Be it in strength or wits, she overpowered him, her great sword describing beautiful arcs that always ended spilling barbarian blood.
And there he was, in the ground, incapacitated, and she raised her sword for the mortal blow, when a shining knight stepped between her and Roland.
Veronica was clad in a silvery metal armor that shone like the sun. She mounted not a horse, but Zelesti in her large hound form.
“Wouldst thee kill him in this shameless way? ” the one rescuing the damsel in distress asks the villain.
Wait? I’m the villain? she thinks and then looks at herself.
Instead of her usual clothes and armor, she is clad in a devil looking armor, with horns and spikes. Somehow, she is looking at herself as if she were outside her body.
Her golden hair had turned dark. Her green bright eyes turned red. From her mouth dark smoke puffed every time she breathed. Her hands were claws dripping blood. On her back twenty-foot wings of black and red leathery scales, similar to that of some colossal bat...or worse
Are you still proud of me? the girls voice sounds in her dreams.
She then turns to Gromff, but speaking loud enough so Veronica would hear as well ”Recent events proved that Moradin is quite the talkative guy, when you try to listen to him.” she says half mocking, half serious, half something else that even she didn’t knew about ”So, did he said anything else?”
"Ye know as well as I they said the weapon will find someone worthy. Not even up ta me or me god at this point." He could explain more but those without faith like his rarely understood. He turns to look at the light in the distance. Figures they loose all their stealthy types just when they need one. "Don't need no followers. Best check it out," he agrees. But as they close in he hangs back and shoo's Roland forward. Gromff's heavy armor would give them away far too easily.
Off into the darkness went the barbarian and warpriest, heading toward the distant firelight glow of unknown origin. The moonslight helped them to see their footing somewhat but the stony ground was difficult to maintain a steady course upon due to the many dips, cracks and crevices along the way. The pair was forced to make several decisions about how to proceed, at which points they discussed the likelihood of being able to return the same way -- or of even being able to find their way back. After many carefully weighed choices, the two found a route that did eventually lead to the firelight.
Leaving Gromff behind in favor of a stealthy approach, the barbarian inched closer to the narrow fissure from which the light spilled from, looking at his footing over and over to ensure there were no stones kicked accidentally. From a post above the crevice the barbarian looked down upon a group of halflings and humans, males and females ranging in age from very young to elderly, most of whom were circled around one of several campfires trying to stay warm. A gust of wind made a whining whistle as it blew through the narrow canyon, causing many of the congregated people to shiver despite the warm fire. They had little equipment, no wagon or cart, and had no apparent weapons or warriors in their midst. After taking a headcount the barbarian determined there must be thirty or more people down in the crevice.
Many times their gazes turned south toward the end of the narrow canyon opposite of where Roland and Gromff approached. It seemed as if they anticipated someone's, or something's approach.
”See there dear?” she asks Aersensi when Roland starts to showing his tongue to others. ”You have to promise me you’ll grow up to be a fine woman, not something like that.”
Roland does not mind the taunting, and instead winks at Aersensi in a playful manner when Catcher is not looking, completely unaware that he would be the damsel in distress in a couple of hours.
Veronica nods at the barbarian and gently adds "Thank thee, both for my garments return and for all of the effort bringing the horses back along. Again, it twas an impressive show of strength, Sir Roland."
He handwaves the compliment, seeming not to think that way. "No big deal, it was just the magic doing its part."
He is too focused to notice anything when he wakes up Veronica, since besides being dark he is focused on the camp at a distance. Thanks god he didn't wake the wizard, though, since she could try to kill the barbeacon of good for no reason.
When the dwarf suggested them to approach he thought they could follow the simple road of confabulation with whoever was there. But then the dwarf stood behind so he could stealthily approach the camp. It was definitely not his style, but he did it anyway. After all, it made sense, since it could be the enemy hidden in that crevice. But there were only common folk down that cold spot. They had no weapons, and probably no fighters among them. It made him wonder what they would be doing in this wastelands. Maybe their hunting party was away and they were expecting their return with fresh game. Or perhaps they were out there in the shadows waiting for some stupid soul to approach their camp so they could kill him. Hell, as far as he knows they could be waiting for devils to come with an agreement of some kind, as usual.
He would wait for some time while he organized the possibilities.
After 5 minutes he was tired of waiting and started walking toward the camp in a regular manner, minding not the noise since he was not worried about being seen by them. Something signaled in his mind, as he noticed a good scout was supposed to scout and bring information back, but well, he was no scout, and he didn't have that much patience. One thing Roland worried about was to move where the dwarf could notice he was approaching. He also calls out to make sure they see him coming, and to alert the dwarf, although he didn't expect to have any problems. "Evening! I'm approaching your camp and I'm not here for trouble."
Multiple startled cries and shouts echo along the rock walls as the group reacts to the muscular hammer-strapped fighter's sudden approach. The children and elderly stand and move away in an abundance of caution, while the able-bodied grabbed burning logs from the fire, loose rocks from the ground, and one even produced a meat cleaver from sack. The now-armed group stared at the barbarian with trepidation despite his declaration of non-aggression.
A middle-aged woman wielding a firebrand with two hands speaks -
"We don't want any trouble, so I'm glad to hear you say it. Who are you, what are you doing here? We ain't hurtin' no one!"
She goes on to explain that they are refugees from a village called Quail's Hollow which lies several miles to the north. News of the gathering armies sent them in search of a safe haven but troop movements forced their path southward, which landed them here.
"We're waiting for some of our group to return. They left many hours ago in search of water and game, and we're beginning to worry about them."
As she mentions their lack of water, several of the children lick their lips in anticipation, further cracking the parched skin. The group suddenly looked particularly forlorn and hungry, if the desperation in their eyes were any indication.
The mice cage had been a good idea and for a time, hunting and eating hadn’t been an issue. The mice were long gone, not that it really mattered anyway, hunting was easy or at least it was until they decided to take this rocky path.
It tastes the air: hunger, fear, anxiety, terror, anger, death.
A myriad of smells assault its senses and points the snake towards its next direction.
The big one was moving ahead, followed by the shorty one. They are following the same trail and the more they approached, stronger it could feel in the air the desperation and fear, the hunger and thirsty.
It made a point of saying hidden. In those circumstances there was a great chance that if it was spotted instead of enemy, it would be treated as meal. It made a point to not reveal itself to the big one or the shorty one. It rarely left the insides of the sleeves its master's tunic. It feared that revealing itself would bring down upon it death by hammer. Not a very promising prospect.
It listens without understanding what’s being talked. It could talk with its master all right, but the others didn’t seem intelligent enough to understand its speech.
The master was still sleeping. It could feel her thru the strange connection they shared. She was dreaming unsettling things, but then again it wasn’t surprised.
It had never talked with her about her past, but it could feel things and it could sense her emotions.
The master was a time bomb waiting to explode. Strangely enough, the big one seemed to have a calming effect on her. They would bicker, and argue, and pick a fight, and although she pretended not, she was happy for it.
Every species had different mating rituals. Weirdos.
It tastes the air once more: Fear, hunger, anxiety.
Better get back to hunting. The big one seemed intent on talking and it didn’t seem that anything would happen. There was no need to wake up the mage. Let her sleep, troubling as her dreams may be.
Roland dos not flinch when they start to get all "armed up". He knew that was obviously what they would do, and he was happy to know he was right about that group.
"We are on a personal mission through the untamed lands. I must confess we are as blind as one will get regarding direction, but at least we're already here. We were forced to go around our path because of two large hosts to the north, and thus ended up a few miles from here, deciding to investigate to exchange some knowledge with other folks."
He looks at the thirsty kids and knows what to do already. "Listen, at least the water problem we can solve now to help you. I'll get my friends. We are 6 people total. Two of them provide us with water when we need it, and they are good people. I'm sure they will help you with that. Then once they get here and your thirst has been quenched we can talk more and maybe you can help us too." He starts walking out and seeks out his friends to come back.
The woman stared at Roland, sizing him up and making silent judgments about his intent. Seeing no uniform or any other indication that he was anything other than a nomad adventurer, she lowers her firebrand back into one of the fires.
"You and your friends are welcome to join us. If you truly have extra water to share, we would be extremely grateful, though I feel that your supply will quickly run short if you share with all of us."
The group looks both hopeful and skeptical at the prospect of fresh water.
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Then the dream changed.
There was no more shinning Knight or Hound archons, her hands were just hands and everything around was pitch black.
She could feel the cold around her, but somehow she felt comfortable, warm. A familiar sent, rushed voices, slightly movements.
She noticed that instead of pitch black, she’d been with her eyes closed and when she opened it, the faint moonlight reveled she was in someone’s arms, being carried like a baby. She thought to protest, to demand to walk with her own legs, but it was a dream, she could indulge, just this once.
”Such strange dreams…” she whispers softly moving ever so slightly and resting her head against the man’s chest, resting her forehead against his neck.
”Just this once…” she whispers again and moves her hand, resting against the man as well.
Oblivion takes her again then. No more demons, no more angels, no more shinning knights or death-matches. Just blissfully oblivion.
When waiting, most people tend to pace or fidget or look around nervously. Not Gromff though. If one didn't realize what they were looking for, one might overlook the silent and still figure, thinking it just another outcropping of rock. He stands like a statue, eyes forward and ready for action should he hear shouts. But nothing bad happens, for once. Instead, Roland comes back to inform him or refugees. He follows the barbarian back to the huddled group. When he is informed of the situation he says "They didn't happen to go north through the valley did they? Anywhere near the damn?" Whether they answer yes or no he tells them of the disaster but not of its source. He doubted they'd believe half the story anyway. As for water, he had plenty of that. Simplest prayer any cleric could cast. But if their hunters didn't return soon, that would be a whole new problem.
Roland listens to something while carrying the wizard. Probably the result of a dream or something. He almost laughs and looks at Veronica, to see if she noticed it too. He whispers to the oracle. "She's gonna be pissed when she finds out about this."
The barbarian keeps the pace until they approach the pace. Then he looks for a place to settle the thing down, along with Aersensi. After that he can go talk with the others. "How long ago did your hunting party leave?"
Create Water for days.
When Roland comments about Catcher, Veronica gives him a slight smile. "I think that girl is more fond of thee than she lets on. If she truly hatest thee, she would not find herself so cross when thee endangerst thyself."
- - - - -
When talk of missing people comes about Veronica stays quiet, though her thoughts are anything but.
Couldst they have been taken by the flood? Couldst they have been taken by the army of sin? Maybe even left a trail back to this camp? No, girl, calm thyself until we hear more...
It feels the air once again: Despair, hunger, anxiety and… hope?
It had felt the master being moved away and immediately it returned following the same direction the wizard as being carried. But it was strange. She felt… at peace?
More curious than worried, it gave up on hunting today. There’s nothing nearby. The army, the sudden river, and the refugees: they had frightened all the animals around.
Silently it approaches the camp again and watches hidden near the rocks, outside the fire’s light.
From there, it knew what needed to be done: The refugees would never survive the trip: They had no warrior or hunters among them, nor even someone skilled since using fire would attract any predator in the region, as well signal their position.
The viper slithered out of the rocks towards the sleeping master.
”අශ්වයන් මරන්න, ඔවුන් සඳහා ආහාර ලෙස භාවිතා කළ, අප හෙල්ලය ලැබෙන තුරු ඔබේ මාර්ගය ඉතිරි ඇවිදින්න.” it says, but then it remember one else besides her can understand.
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When the pair of devout priests arrive and both offer liquid ministrations to the group, the refugees gather around quickly for their turn. The young hustle over first, while the firm aid the infirm to their feet. Seeing that the pure water was abundant and miraculous in its genesis, they each drank to their heart's content and then had what few waterskins and containers they had brought along filled to capacity.
"By the way, I am Doña Maria. I have become the leader of our group, and so allow me to thank you all for coming to help us."
He follows the barbarian back to the huddled group. When he is informed of the situation he says "They didn't happen to go north through the valley did they? Anywhere near the damn?"
"No, they headed that way --" she points to the opposite end of the crevice camp, which led south, presumably further into the Wilds.
After that he can go talk with the others. "How long ago did your hunting party leave?"
The Doña showed concern in her eyes as she answered,
"They left before luncheon's hour. We expected them back by nightfall at the latest, but that was several hours ago. We have no warriors and few weapons. You've been so generous already, but I must beg you for more. Can you please find them?? Our group won't last long out here without them."The woman cried out suddenly -
"Daveed! A snake, over there!"
The youth named Daveed, a boy of probably sixteen, picks up a large rock and moves toward the serpent aggressively!