'You have helped enough. If it wasn't for you, that log would have beat me." With a chuckle he pats Marius on the shoulder. "You stay safe too. Who knows what came through that portal, or what may? Next time, a crazy dwarf might not be around to dragoon you into duty."
He sticks out a hand, "May the gods watch over you, ranger. And may the forest too, for what good a druid's blessing is worth."
"Seems like, from you, it should be worth plenty," Marius says, taking your proffered hand with a firm grip. "You come across whoever sent those cold fey over, make sure Bizzk sticks his beak in them extra hard for me. And especially for the High Sentinels that didn't make it."
'I'll do that, right Bizzk?" the heron caws loudly, making a few heads turn in town. Kazmir pumps his hand and says, 'We'll, the task isn't being made easier. Keep safe, Marius, I mean it."
Marius nods. "And you."
The journey back to the portal is uneventful, though there are times you could swear you're being watched. Still, nothing disturbs you, and soon you again stand in front of the odd column of elsewhere.
0 Level: Detect Magic, Light, Create Water, Read Magic
1 level: Endure Elements (cast on Bizzk), Entangle, CLW, Mudball
2 level: Flaming Sphere, Stone Call, Tar Ball[/ooc]
Kazmir peers at the portal, and glances at the tomb of the Rider. Shaking his head, he says to Bizzk, 'Next stop, Irrisen."
And the druid steps through the portal, braced for anything.
The transition is... disappointingly lacking in any kind of fanfare. One moment, your surroundings are the billowing clouds of snow and ice blowing out from the portal in the Border Wood. Then, with a single step, you're in the midst of a different snowy wood. The trees here look long-dead, saved from rot only by the continual artic weather, frozen in place like some sort of icy fossils. Looking back, you can see the portal behind you, a column of elsewhere showing the blowing snow you left behind.
Oddly enough, this small clearing seems unguarded. You can make out the Black Rider's tracks, blurred by falling snow but not yet gone, leading out of the clearing. Besides that, it seems this place has not been visited in days--either that, or there was a heavy snowfall not long before the Rider arrived.
'See anything, Bizzk?" Kazmir says, looking around himself.
Carefully he follows the Rider's tracks, just to the side to not disturb them. The Rider probably cam by the fastest route to somewhere the dwarf reasons.
As far as Kazmir can tell, there's nothing here that relates to maintaining the portal. Perhaps it is controlled from elsewhere?
You travel for perhaps an hour through deep snow before you can tell the trees are thinning out ahead. You can vaguely make out some movement from between the trees--it seems like there's a group of people traveling along a path of some sort?
Before you have long to figure this out, a larger shape suddenly bursts into movement. A woman shouts, "Varo!"
Then the dark shape is upon the people, and a man screams in pain.
Kazmir blinks for a moment. What had he walked into here?
But with that brief hesitation aside the druid plunges ahead, Bizzk at his side, pushing through the deep snow as fast as he can.
He wonders what he found and who is attacking who. Still, he intends to sort things out after everyone is stopped hurting each other. The tales he hears of Irrisen...
Kazmir bursts from the trees to see a rather bizarre scene. Three dogsleds have come to a stop in a clearing, their dogs shying away from a ten-foot-tall praying mantis standing near one of the sleds. A screaming man dangles from one of its 'arms', swinging wildly as he tries to avoid its mandibles. The other two sleds' drivers, one man and one woman, are desperately nocking arrows to bows, searching for a safe shot to save their friend.
"Giant Mantis?" The druid said outloud, confused. He had heard of such things but in Irrisen?
Shaking his head, Kazmir casts Magic Fang on Bizzk. 'Let's go get him, Bizzk. Maybe make some friends too."
After that Bizzk flies up to the mantis, snapping at the huge, insect head.
For his part Kazmir moved closer, not bothered by the snow. "I'm here to help!" he cries to the sled people.
Kazmir... had never heard of such things before, much less in Irrisen. Still, its green exoskeleton hardly blended into the snow.
The mantis sees Bizzk flying towards it and slashes at the bird with its free claw.
Its wild slash doesn't even get close to the heron, while Bizzk's beak cracks the creature's exoskeleton. Ichor oozes from the wound.
The two other sled-drivers hesitate a moment, then the woman shouts to the man, "Vistbacka ja suojaa minua!" She drops her bow on her sled, then runs forward on her snow-shoes to flank with Bizzk, drawing a handaxe as she does so. She chops at the mantis while it is distracted by the bird.
Nervous about hitting her friend, however, her swing is short of the mantis.
Suddenly attacked by two foes, the huge insect drops its prey and lashes out at its flankers.
The woman grunts as the edge of one claw slashes her axe arm, but she doesn't seem hurt too badly.
Bizzk bites again, still imbued with magic, flaps and bites.
Kazmir waves his hands, willing the hibernating plants of Irrisen back to life. The druid casts Entangle on the mantis, missing the bowmen.
The mantis chitters angrily as Bizzk again pierces its exoskeleton as vines grow up around it.
Distracted by its attackers, it scarcely notices them before they tighten around its legs.
The woman takes another swing at the giant insect.
She still doesn't have much luck, however, her light axe just bouncing off of the mantis's hard exoskeleton.
Wildly the oversized insect slashes at Bizzk, thrown off by the vines pulling at it.
But its wild thrashing doesn't quite catch the heron.
Bizzk bites the mantis again, enjoying great success.
Kazmir watches and waits, seeing Bizzk do devastating damage to the big bug.
Bizzk stabs his beak right into one of the mantis's eyes, and it convulses, then collapses on the ground.
The little group takes a moment to catch their breath, then the woman approaches you.
"Thank, stranger," she says, her Common heavily accented. "Without you and bird, that go bad."
Bizzk flies back over to Kazmir, who pets the bird and inspects it for wounds. Finding none the druid bows to the woman.
"Your are welcome. My name is Kazmir Brightbeard. What was that thing doing in this land?"
"I am Nadya Petska," the Ulfen woman replies as she puts her axe away.
She shakes her head at your question. "I am not knowing this," she states. "I have hunted much all over near here, not ever seen a thing like that."
She pauses a moment. "You travel far, stranger?" she asks.
You get the feeling there is more to this question, but you're not quite sure what it is.
Kazmir ponders the hulk of the large insect. "I have traveled far. I came from Taldor, far to the south, through a portal int hose woods." The druid points out his back trail. "I am seeking a way to close it."
Nadya shudders slightly. "Häxor," she hisses under her breath, looking around.
She gestures to the other two Ulfen. "Runda upp hundar, och komma igång!" She orders. They start checking over their dogs and getting the sleds ready to go again.
"You not find many who help with that, Kazmir," she states. "Not good to talk in open. Many eyes, many ears. Come," she waves him to follow as she goes back to her own sled.
Kazmir is a bit concerned that he only has a limited understanding of the words being spoken. It would not be difficult to lead him into danger but what choice did he have? He was a stranger in a strange land.
Carefully he climbs onto the sled, having Bizzk fly along.
Once you are underway, Nadya speaks again. "You are a stranger, you not knowing Irrisen," she says. "To speak against White Witches, if they hear, it is death..."
She trails off for a moment, then, more quietly, adds, "If not for you, for your family."
She looks back and forth for a moment, making sure her partners are out of hearing, then looks over her shoulder at you. "But my family, they already take my daughter. I not telling them of you."
Kazmir takes this silently, wondering who exactly this woman was. The White Witches....well, it wasn't as if he didn't know the stakes were high.
'Where are we going?" Kazmir says, keeping voice low as well. 'I don't have much supplies for a long journey."
"Back to Waldsby, to my home," Nadya states. "We bring supplies, trade for with pelts for food. Is expensive, but is not starving."
As she speaks, she suddenly looks up at the horizon. She stares at something for a moment... a tiny black smudge, you realize after following her gaze.
"Sluta! Få ut presenningar! Vi kommer till jord! Häxa kråkor!" she shouts to her companions, then calls out to her dogs to stop.
Hurriedly she gets a white tarp out from her gear. "Witch's crows come! They will see you are a stranger. Quick! Hide with us!"
As she speaks she's spreading out the tarp. Well-trained, the dogs circle somewhat, waiting for her to toss the tarp over them.
I need to learn Ulfen. Kazmir remarks to himself, thoroughly confused. He had a feeling this was going to happen a great deal.
Bizzk vanishes into the trees.
For his part the druid ducks under the tarp, rolling with the dogs. Being short and stocky had advantages.
You spend several long, tense, cold minutes under the tarp. Eventually you hear the cawing of crows overhead and the beating of many wings, but after a minute they pass by.
Nadya waits a couple of minutes after the last sounds of crows have faded, then cautiously peeks out from under the tarp.
"Vi är klar!" She says, and throws off the tarp. Her companions do likewise. Looking around, you don't see any crows nearby.
"We are lucky," she tells you. "They do not see. Is not good, being seen with stranger. Witches never like strangers in Irrisen, but now, is even worse."
'Even now? What is happening that has them on edge? Does it have something to do with the portal?" Kazmir decides to keep the Black Rider a secret.
"They do not tell us!" Nadya snaps, though it's clear she's not angry at Kazmir. "The rumor say that there is trouble in Whitethrone, but not why."
"Whitethrone? Is that a city nearbye? How close are we?" Kazmir asks, trying to get his bearings.
Nadya looks surprised. "You really are stranger. Whitethrone is capital of Irrisen, where Queen Elvanna rule. Trouble there is trouble for all Irrisen."
"I come from a far land." Kazmir says, a bit defensively. "How big is this...Waldsby, that we are headed toward?"
"Not large," Nadya says, turning back to her dogs. "Is not far, now. We camp tonight, tomorrow be there."
KAzmir waits until they arrive, turning over the sudden rush of events in his head.
The little group continues on in silence until sunset, then quickly sets up camp. Not long after the tents are pitched and a fire started, you see an odd figure approaching down the trail. She stands as tall as a human, but with blue skin, horns, and cloven feet. She's strumming on a lute as she approaches.
Nadya hisses unhappily. "Is a servant of the Witches. Be wary. For now, you are trade partner from east, yes? Not so strange, that. There are dwarves in Realms of Mammoth Lords, yes?"
Kazmir wonders at that. Were there dwavres among those savage Kellids? But he lacked the knowledge to argue and simply nodded, "Of course." And Kazmir tries to change his accent to a rugged grunt. "What do I trade?" he mutters quickly.
"You take my furs, give us meat," Nadya hurriedly whispers.
She has no time to say more. "Ah, hello, Nadya," The strange cloven-hoofed being says, speaking in Common for some reason. "Coming back from your trip with a stranger in tow, are we? I'd think there's enough mouths to feed in Waldsby without another."
"He is trading partner," Nadya explains gruffly. "He is wanting to see pelts before we bring more. He says we should prepare them differently."
"Those mouths are my income, flute player." Kazmir attempts to bluff.
The blue-skinned creature sniffed disdainfully. "Lute, not flute," she states, strumming another chord. "I am Mierul, a traveling bard. What would your name be, traveler?"
Kazmir assumes it is best to be considered a bit slow so naming the wrong instrument might be a good start.
"Guldur" Kazmir says, keeping his voice deep. "Well met."
"Yes, well met," Mierul replies, smiling. "You wouldn't mind if I played you a few songs in return for some news from beyond our borders, would you?"
Kazmir has doubts. For one thing, he isn't really interested in the local music. Second, a lute in the hands of a bard can be a weapon as deadly as any blade.
The dwarf looks to Nadya, wanting her to take the lead, not knowing if refusing is a safe option.
It's transparently obvious from her face that she wants to say no.
"Of course, Mierul," Nadya replies. "Though I'm afraid Guldur doesn't know much that would be interesting to you."
"What, you think I'm not interesting in the migrations of herds and the doings of clans?" Mierul responds. "I'll start with a song, first."
She strums her lute and begins to play. It's... not the happiest of tunes. It gets even worse when she starts to sing. The lyrics speak of the White Witches brutally crushing a peasant revolt, and they seem to linger lovingly on descriptions of mangled bodies in the streets or blood staining the snow crimson.
"So now, what news?" Mierul asks before her last note has fallen silent. "What of the Uljart clan? Has their chieftain finally succumbed to old age?"
Nadya opens her mouth to speak, but the bard holds up a hand. "No," she says, looking straight at you, "I want to hear it from the dwarf."
You can't read her at all. Her face is just too non-dwarven for you to get a sense of what she's thinking.
You do realize she's some kind of fey, though.