Azarra nods and starts towards the castle, trying to remain under tree cover where possible... not wanting to draw the attention of the dragons. One they could probably take, but if they ganged up? She didn't want to find out.
Ser Armithia looks up at the dragon flock circling above. The knight looks a bit excited, before reminding himself that a beholder and a lich on their plate was most likely enough for 1 day.
He leads on wistfully.....
Walking out of the glade into the sun drenched grassland you marvelled at how alive everything was. The insects where bigger and more beautiful than back home, the flock of deer you saw racing through the undergrowth in the distance seemed more graceful than any you've see, their coats glinting in the sunlight, also radiant even and then they where gone.
Taking a few steps away you turn back and faintly you could see the outline of the portal and through it into the attic room that you left. Oddly a leaf in the room picked up by the wind of your passage as suspended in mid air. Whatever the reason it seemed like you'd be able to return this way when the time came.
You picked your way along the overgrown path, the grasses made it hard going but to your surprise fatigue didn't set in. The air somehow seemed more nourishing than back home.
Hours later and the sun had barely moved in the sky, the days here must be long indeed. The distant hilltop castle seemed closer but clearly it was still many hours walk away. A short way off you spy what appears to be a farm, complete with deeply tanned workers in the fields. You could make a diversion to learn something of the land, or avoid it and make haste to the town.
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"It seems time passes by faster here than in our place of origin. The ratio between a day here and a day back home, I calculate to be about 1/1500." Ishta smiles happily. "That means we can safely rest here and only a few minutes will be wasted in our native world!"
(fail)
Wow, Ishta, that is really good to know. We can rest and take our time, and not put the city at further risk. Thank you for figuring that out. What a relief.
There are a lot of cart and hoofprints here. Normally I'd say they aren't more than a week old... but the grass has grown much higher than you would expect in that timeline.
Uh, possible problem. It looks like the dragons *live* in the hill that the castle is built on. If they serve the king, and he likes us, maybe that will be okay...? I, uh, don't know what we're going to do if they attack en masse as we approach though.
Looking more closely, Azarra realizes
Looks like grass... and seemingly everything... just grows faster here. Weird. Kind of gives you hope though, that the dragons are nice, right?
She laughs a little nervously. That was a *lot* of dragons.
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Great, even more dragons! Kardas greets the news with a thin smile. "We might want to say hello to the farmers and exchange some pleasantries. Perhaps they can tell us the name of this place, who this heartbroken king is, and prevent us from making a horrible mistake in the way we behave and address those we'll meet."
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Ser Armithia walks along the tall grass just savoring the peace of it all.
May want to retire here.
The gold elf smiles.
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Even though she can't properly tell, Ishta chooses to think that if they were chromatic dragons things wouldn't look so good and prosperous down here. Probably these folks have some knowledge to share.
"Yes, let's talk to them. Knowledge is power."
Azarra leads the way to a local farmhouse, where they knock on the door.
Before you got to the farm buildings, several of the workers in the fields noticed your approach and they hailed you in thickly accented trade tongue, "Ho there travellers! What brings you to Whitegate Farm? Would you care to buy some produce? Best fruit and veg for fifty leagues!"
I'm interested, sure, what kinds of fruit do you have?
After talking to them for a while, Azarra learns that the palace is in mourning and that the farmers are worried about selling all of their goods. Also... fourth harvest? Seasons must work differently here.
She buys some fruit and gets some change if she can, curious to see what kind of coins they have here. She was starting to relax, knowing they had plenty of time, just one tiny but adamant voice in the back of her head kept reminding her to kill the lich.
"And who is it that has passed away there in the palace?"
Ser Armilthia approaches the locals. The knight nods in greeting to them.
Well met! I am Ser Armithia -Seendren and friends. We would enjoy some local fare.
King Curathz hasn't been the same since he lost his only Daughter Tiamartha? Wel, well, perhaps our services will be needed.
When Azarra asked what kinds of fruit they had a deeply tanned middle age woman replied, listing them off on her fingers, "Lets see. We have Peaches, Apples, Pears, Guava, Papaya, Bananas, Dragon Fruit, Star fruit, Gem Berries, Oranges, Grapefruit, Grapes of several varieties, Pineapple, Rambutan, Durian, Star Melons, Cantaloupe Melons and Horned melons. We also have Persimmon, Rainbow Kiwi, Cherimoya, Physalis and Mangoes. I'm probably missing a few, there's so many types it's hard to keep track of them all."
She waves towards small plots of trees and bushes, which form neat little squares and stretch for well over a mile. Each plot seems to be devoted to one kind of produce or another. Surrounding this are fields full of wheat and barley look about ready to harvest.
After a momentary pause she adds, "I can get you a list if you'd like. Actually maybe I'll get you two, you look like you're headed into town, perhaps you'd be good enough to bring a copy to Coalinthaz the merchant? She asked for a copy and we haven't had a chance to send one yet. Don't worry she'll be easy to find, runs the biggest wine stall in the market, can't miss it."
"We'd be happy to deliver that for you. I've never even heard of some of those. Can I try Cherimoya and Physalis and Gem Berries? I'll also take peaches, though I prefer nectarines, but today I feel pretty good, so I can deal with some fuzz. I like them when you can bite into them and eat them like an apple, so not too ripe."
"No plums, raspberries, strawberries? I would also love some purple grapes. Do you grow lemons and limes as well, or just oranges and grapefruit?"
She shows some of her coins to the woman before purchasing.
"We're not from here, so I want to make sure that our coinage will be acceptable to you as payment."
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The woman sighed, "I prefer nectarines too but they got the ochre blight I'm afraid and we had to burn all the trees. Not to worry, we still have plenty of stones and already the ones we've planted are shooting vigorously."
"No plums, raspberries, strawberries?"
"Oh and plumbs, I knew I forgot something! We have Damsons, Elephant Heart, Moyer, Greengage, Redgage, and Myrobalans. I always liked Moyers and Greengages the best. We don't grow that many berries here, with the exception of gemberries they're too delicate when ripe to take to market. We do have lemons and limes too, I love the smell of those groves!"
A few minutes later a basket laden with fruits of all sorts is brought out for you to inspect.
The bounty included, Cherimoya, physalis, peaches of several varieties - some looking like hairy apples others like doughnuts. There where a number of gemberries too, these looked almost like candied strawberries except they had a smooth hard surface that sparkled and crunched in the mouth as if it was made of sugar. Inside they where gooey and tasted exotic, a little like passion fruit with a hint of mango.
The strange coinage wasn't a problem, they had a set of scales and judged the gold and silver content of your Phlan and assorted Moonsea coinage to be perfectly acceptable.
Ser Armithia smiles at the simplicity of this moment.
How are the housing markets in this area?
The knight breathes deeply.
Azarra makes sure to get some local coinage in change, as a souvenir if nothing else. She's happy for the first time in a while, and she wonders, if her parents are still alive, if they would like to retire to this place. If she holds onto the book, maybe that would be possible.
The strange taste - sweet food is practically unheard of in Rashemen - leaves Kardas bewildered. Does it limit its nutritious value? It doesn't taste like food that breeds and sustains warriors. It does, however, taste magical, and that's a quality all of its own.
"So far so good," he mutters to his companions. Kardas had expected worse, what with them being in another world.
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The woman smiled at Ser Armithia's question, "Looks lovely doesn't it! It is especially during the day. After dusk is a different story, this is the sort of place where you want to huddle together behind stout walls. Packs of wild things prowl around, all sabertoothed and hook-clawed hunting whatever they can find."
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Ser Armithia smiles warmly.
Then it seems that I shall have a hobby in retirement.
The Paladin bows before resuming their trek.
Azarra bows to the woman in thanks.
We will deliver your revised list and we thank you for taking the time to answer our questions.
Then she continues, happily munching on really, really good fruit. It had been a long time since she had had so fine a meal.
Satiated by a bushel of two of delectable fruit, the Watchers of Dawn resume their trek towards the distant town and the castle above it. It takes a little while to find the overgrown trail, but it does proved to be somewhat easier going than slogging through the denser patches of grass. To your right as you march you past acre after acre of well tended farmland which ends abruptly into endless grasslands.
To your left is a series of rolling hills covered in dense arboreal forest, something about this forest raises your hackles, knowledge on an instinctive level that you would be unwelcome. The track skits around the forest, always keeping at least two hundred yards or so away from it. Occasionally you hear unseen things crashing about in the distance followed by the outraged squawking of exotic birds and once a piercing scream of some creature in pain. Exactly what transpired was unclear but the saying 'nature red in tooth and claw' came to mind.
As you thought about this on your long trek, afternoon slanted towards evening and your shadows lengthened. It was hard to say how far you had traveled although the castle was noticeably closer yet still a considerable distance away. One thing was obvious, you wouldn't make it to town at this rate before nightfall.
Kardas is more occupied with the sun above and its dallying nature than the forest and its squawking inhabitants. "Is it me or do the days last so much longer here? I can't quite put my finger on the how or why, yet, but it seems a day here lasts three or four times as long as our days do."
"This world is certainly governed by some words natural laws. Or maybe it's ours who is, you never know." Ishta shrugs. "If nights are shorter, does that mean sleeping in the forest would be safer than we thought?"
Err, not the forest, but perhaps a clearing, or just beside the road?
She looks around for a good place to camp. Maybe with sparse trees but not the dense forest for some cover from the dragons? Or if *all* the trees feel foreboding then just a clear spot?
Azarra spotted a clearing ahead and she strayed closer to the forest edge and in the distance she coukd hear a variety of birds and other wildlife. Suddenly when she got within about fifty yards everything fell silent and she became quite uncomfortable, and the sounds of birds didn't return until she was at least a hundred yards away.
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Ishta suddenly slaps her front and clasps his fingers.
"The Watcher's Wagon! Of course, we can use it to reach the castle before it's dark!"
The gold elf just smiles at Ishta.
As pleasant this trek may be; we do need to be about our business.
I am relieved. I found a clearing, but uh, anytime you get near the woods it is quite uncomfortable. We might have had to just sleep by the road.
"Heh. It's like the lady earlier said - the people here make sure to spend their nights inside, behind walls and solid doors."
Ishta pulls her spell book out and takes a moment to memorise the spell that summons the chariot.
Spell memorised, she snaps the book shut and whispers strange spidery words which are answered by a shimmering oval portal to one side. As before, at great speed a massive wrought iron chariot drawn by a team of almost horses thunders out before gliding to a halt just Infront of her. Everyone piles in and with a thought Ishta directs it forwards. Pulled by horses whose legs in whispy clouds, the Watcher Wagon accelerates smoothly and glides just above the grasses!
From behind a trio of huge hulking tigers with green fur and white stripes burst out of the tree line and pound towards the Watcher Wagon, but you're simply too fast and they roar in anger as the impossibility of their chase becomes obvious. Then to your amazement from out of the clouds comes a line of half a dozen riders in ornate armour, riding steeds that gallop in the air. They bear down upon the tigers but the fight is lost in a cloud of ice and snow!
Over the next few hours the sun sinks lower and lower as the Watcher Wagon draws inexorably closer to the castle on the hill and the town below. The sheer scale of the castle's seven candle like towers is awe inspiring, it's as if they're reaching for the heavens and they cast gigantic shadows over the grasslands. The cave entrances that dot the hill below are clearly visible now and are on a similarly grand scale. The town is ringed by stout white stone walls at least sixty foot high, pierced by a number of gates with a moat and massive portcullises. The defences look formidable, you can't help but wonder what sort of threat they defend against.
As you get closer you see the last of a long line of traffic enter one the gates ahead, but it's a good ten minutes before you finally arrive just as the sun falls below the horizon. To your dismay the portcullis is being lowered...
Person one, "What are your plans for this evening?"
Person two, "Oh I'm heading for the pump rooms, Reiksaj is playing."
Person three grumbled, "Oh that would be grand, I'm stuck here on duty all night. Wonder if we'll see any action?"
Person one, "Hope not but tis the season..."
Ser Armithia looks up over the tall walls, taller towers, and tallest clouds.
Seems nice.
The Paladin looks then at the gate as it begins being lowered.
He seems a bit too distracted by the moat and massive portcullises.
(fail)
(pass)
Hello! Wait, we need to get in! Hold the portcullis for just a moment!
Azarra runs for it.
A suspicious, thickly accented, voice called back, "What? There's somebody there?! Who are you? Don't you know the gates always close at sundown, no exceptions?"
The portcullis continues to be lowered although it has slowed a bit.
Still running, Azarra says
Travelers. We didn't know. And hey, it's still sundown. It's not below the horizon yet... just barely started. We have a message for Coalinthaz the wine merchant, and we also want to see Reiksaj, and you know we won't last long if you leave us out here alone, please?
(Mythic Surge--Greater Surge)
Ishta sprints as far as her feet allow her, not very keen with the idea of being left behind.
"Please! Please! We don't wanna be eaten by monsters!" she cries, trying to invoke the guardsmen's deepest sentiments.
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Kardas relaxes and trusts in Azarra's silver tongue. If these fools would reject, there's nothing he could say or do anyway. Although ...
"We might be late, but we're not too late, as shown by the conversation we're having!"
As the portcullis crashed home the suspicious voice called back, "Travelers Eh? How can we be sure you're not night fae come to trick us?"
Another voice called out, "I can see em, they don't look like any kind of fae I've seen."
Sounding regretful the first voice replied, "Ah, blast. We all know the iron law, once the sun has sunk below the horizon the gates must be closed or it'll be us doing the hanged man's dance. Cruel as it may sound but the iron law is for good reason, need I remind you of the towns that have fallen?"
The sound of footsteps and a third voice said, "Sarge I just looked, the sun is is touching the horizon but hasn't quite sunk below. I know you're worried about a trick but what if it's not?"
The sergeant sighed, "All right, allow them into the outer gatehouse and lets see what we're dealing with. But Jenkins get the second squad ready in case it's a trick."
A moment later the portcullis was winched up a short way, and you scrambled into the gatehouse. Your passage was blocked by the inner portcullis and you knew a moment of doubt when the outer one clanked shut, trapping you. You glanced above and noticed murder holes in the stone above, where boiling oil or other unpleasant things could be rained down upon you.
You were not kept waiting for long, a squad of soldiers in full harness and a dozen or so archers trained their crossbows on you. One of the knights walked towards the inner gate and called out to you, "Well you're a strange looking bunch aren't you... Can't say you look like fae but better to be safe than sorry. If you'd be so kind, please all of you take off any gloves or gauntlets and grab hold the metal bars for me."
Azarra says
Thank you. I was worried we were going to have to spend the night out there!
She nods when they ask her to hold onto the metal bars, and does so, making sure to pull back her sleeves so they can see she is holding on with her bare flesh and not trying to protect herself.
(fail)
She encourages the others to do the same, not exactly sure why, but she assumes that the bars are either cold iron or enchanted somehow so they have to tell the truth.
Ser Armithia arrives in the vanguard, as the nervous guards begin re-lowering the gates.
The Paladin smiles at them.
Well met, my good citizens. We are the Watchers of Dawn. We appreciate your patience.
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At Ser's mention of patience, she realizes that he might need help, so she says
Uh, we're attempting to comply with your most reasonable request, but please hold on a sec. I think Ser needs help getting out of those gauntlets. She takes her hands off the bars, helps Ser, and then grabs the bars again.
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Kardas complies for he is not a fae.
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Ishta gladly holds the bars, which she notices are made of child iron, or whatever proof these folks need, so long it leads to the Watchers not being left out.
Ser Armithia is happy to comply.
The sergeant nodded imperceptibly when Azarra, Kardas and Ishta placed their hands on the bars and nothing happened. Ser Armitha didn't comply at first, speaking to them about patience and the tension rose a notch. But then he too took his gauntlet off and gripped hold of the bars and nothing happened.
"All right, nothing to see here, back to your posts. You two, winch it up and let them in." bellowed the grizzled Sergeant and the world seemed to let out a collective breath.
Once you where inside the Sergeant who looked to be a veteran of at least fifty summers looked you up and down and drawled in thickly accented common, "Guess you're not from round here, welcome to Jerogal. Next time please don't leave it so late, the night fae are no joke. If you'd been any later there's a good chance we'd be listening to your screams as they drag you away. And yes I'm sure you're plenty tough, I know the look of those who've seen action and no it wouldn't help, not against them."
He sighed deeply, eyes far away for a moment, no doubt reliving some distant horror.
Shaking himself out of it he added, "On a lighter note, if you're looking for a good inn I'd recommend The Three Hairs on the north side. Not fancy but the ale is good and the beds are clean and unlike at The Golden Dragon you won't get fleeced or have problems with pickpockets."