Though it was not wholly in control, it was not you Dantrian. This creature was prideful and cruel. Yet I sensed it wanted more than anything to protect you. Can you live with it, do you think? Now that it has been unleashed, I mean.
Dantrian shakes his head. "Do not fool yourself, Anton. I was a helpless passenger while the curse held sway. Whatever that creature did, it did of its own will and accord, not mine." The alchemist then pulls his hands behind his back and clasps them together as he begins to slowly pace. "As for its motives? I did not have the same insight into its thoughts as it claimed to have into mine. But can I live with it?" Dantrian goes quiet as he considers the question, his now silver eyes chasing the various lines in the stonework as he thinks. "Perhaps? Honestly, none of my research suggested that I would remain myself once the curse fully exerted itself. While the curse would change me bodily with the lunar cycle, who I was would be no more regardless of my appearance. My psyche, motivations, hungers and desires should have all been twisted and perverted." He paces some more in silence, his posture stiff and rigid.
"But that did not happen and I seem to still be in my right mind. Perhaps with some adjustments to the formula Petros provided I can continue to limit the frequency at which the curse can exert itself. And for those times, hopefully scant few, when it does emerge, I will at least be in a position to take precautions before hand and to actively counter its schemes." He turns then to Anton and shrugs. "Forgive me, I am not sure if that answered your question."
I'm not sure it did either. the paladin admits. But I am taking the fact that you are standing here in front of me and saying things that send my mind reeling as a good thing. As if everything is all right. he adds with a grin.
It's good to have you back Dantrian. Now if only we can prevent the same thing from happening to Janos and Drosil.
While Anton and Dantrian withdraw for a conversation, Janos looks down at the still-warm tea the alchemist had brewed. Wait, did Dantrian make this or Feral? The thought he might drink something the werewolf had created for him was unnerving. He knew the beast wanted to protect him, but it might think the best way to do that would be to afflict him with the same curse.
But Dantrian gave it to me. Surely, he would know if the Beast was giving me something bad. The Ranger tries to wipes doubt from his mind, trusting in his friend. Before he can have second doubts, the Ranger drains the tea cup. His face contorts from the bitter taste, making him immediately wish for his waterskin.
The next moments, however, make him forget all about the taste. His stomach convulses, trying to reject the poisonous herb. Janos doubles over, retching, though nothing comes out. He sweats profusely, collapsing on his arms. His ears are filled with the rush of whispers as he loses all control of listening to the plants. The cacophony of sounds leaves him dazed, even as the poison courses through his body.
This continues for nearly two minutes when suddenly, it stops and the only sound is the heavy breaking of the half-elf.
Anton is shaking Dantrian's hand, welcoming the alchemist back to full cognisance when he hears the sound of retching from the adjoining room.
He rushes through and, seeing Drosil already looking pale and weak from the aftereffects of the wolfsbane, moves to support Janos as the ranger stands with his hands on his knees retching and sweating.
There is nothing he needs to say but he puts his hand under the ranger's arm and lends him what strength he can, offering the man a nod and a smile.
Janos nods as Anton helps him up. "I'm ok, I'm ok. Just need to sit for a moment." He wipes his mouth with the edge of his cloak, trailing spit and some bile.
Once seated, he rests his head back on the wall, closing his eyes. "Ugh, that was terrible. Dantrian, you sure that tea will do the trick?" He waves Anton away from any further help. "I'm ok. Help Drosil."
"It certainly may, Janos. I could see all that was used and how each ingredient was prepared. But it is not a guarantee. It is fortunate you both proved strong enough to survive the poison, but time will tell if the wolfsbane was sufficient to scour the curse from each of you." He pauses for a moment before shaking his head simply. "As the next full moon approaches, we should consider taking... precautions."
You’re probably right, Dantrian. Anton agrees. It is better to be safe than sorry. Do you know when the next full moon is?
"The next full moon, you'll chain me up?" He shivers involuntarily. He looks at Dantrian. "But you don't turn any more during a full moon, do you? Why not?"
Dantrian shakes his head futilely at Janos' question. "I cannot be sure, Janos. Given that my curse has manifested, I should also no longer still be me, and yet here I remain with my mind intact."
I suppose these were the things you and Petros were exploring, Dantrian? I wish we could still count on his guidance.
I'm sorry that the measures are so extreme Janos, but we have to be sure. I will stay with you throughout the night though, no harm will come to you and I won't let you do anything... if the worst happens. Anton volunteers.
"The worst? You'll kill me?" Janos shakes his head. "I didn't like it with Dantrian and I really don't like it now."
He sighs and hangs his head. "But I don't see any other way. If you can't contain me..."
No but I'll contain you to make sure you can't hurt anyone.
"Let us hope the wolfsbane did its work successfully in both you and Drosil and that the point will prove moot." Dantrian dismisses the grim conversation with a wave of his hand and he steers the talk to their shared dream. "To our larger goal, and presuming Desna granted us those visions in nearest chronological order in which they might occur, then it seems some agent of the way clad in bone lies in our future. Perhaps the same agent who now bears what remains of Sain's heart." The alchemist taps his index finger against his lips as he considers the dream and its imagery. "There was a tower in the dream. I don't suppose any of you recognized it or heard mention of such a landmark during our time at the lodge?"
Janos tries to think about to the vision and any characteristics about the tower that he could picture. "I'm not sure. It was all so sudden. Perhaps we could describe the tower to someone back at the Lodge? Cybrisa might have known, but I doubt we'll be able to find her again."
Drosil shakes his head. "I don't remember any conversations about a tower, but we do know the general direction the Way was taking; we could ask on the road."
I will never forget anything that She showed us, Dantrian, but I don't think I have ever seen that Tower before. But that thing in bone armor, I hope She takes us to him soon. he says grimly, eager for the first opportunity to enact justice upon the murderers of Petros Lorrimor.
Dantrian nods as everyone confirms the tower is unfamiliar. "Perhaps it is best we pursue the fleeing agents of the Way directly rather than return to Ascanor for directions then. Hopefully the tower is prominent enough or the trail quite plain; I fear they will slip our grasp if any more time is lost."
Janos nods slowly. "You're right, we ought not to waste any time. The Way is already ahead of us. But we should leave some explanation for Delgros and the others at the Lodge. If we don't return, he might try to come look for us. Plus, they need to know the immediate pack war is at an end."
Janos takes out a piece of paper and scrawls a quick note in messy handwriting. It's just enough to assure Delgros and the Lodge of their safety and that the immediate danger has been dealt with. He cautions that werewolves still roam the forest.
The Ranger then takes out a couple of berries he had found several days ago. Time had ripened them to the point of being soft. He closes his eyes, using his senses to find tree and air spirits. It was a flighty conversation but they directed him to a murder of crows nearby. As he tries to speak to them, an image of fur, blood-red teeth, and haunted silver eyes, flashes through his mind.
The Ranger stumbles back with a start, panicked for a moment. He suddenly realizes he's still back at the temple and a lone raven has perched before him. Still shaken, but the vision, Janos kneels down to offer the raven the berries. "Easy now. That's it. I need you to take this to the Lodge. To Delgros. Wait for him there" He impresses images of the lodge and the huntsman to the bird. Then he ties the rolled up scrap of paper to the raven's legs.
With a couple of caws, the raven flaps away, gliding from the height of the tower towards the tree and then flying higher. It heads in the direction of Ascanor Lodge.
Janos turns back to the others with the grim vision and a dreadful thought in his mind. "What do you think happened to Duristan?"
The quiet hours at the temple are strange. Things are not what they were...there is so much tension. It's like we are together but split in so many fragents. A beautiful chandelier that has crashed to the floor and the servants simply locked the door so the pieces wouldn't be disturbed.
* * *
B'yelka walks back up to the party as Janos asks about Duristan. "Dead most likely. I warned him, so have no pity for him." She clenches her fist and holds it up and says, "And if our vision was any indication, we will catch up to the Way and give them battle. For now, we have to give chase!" She gathers her few possessions, I was able to fill a room with baubles and silks, now look! Overly dramatic and road worn.
The remainder of the night is tense, but it passes without incident. At first light, the five are ready with their gear packed. No one seems to have noticed, but at some point during their ordeal at the temple Ashan seems to have disappeared. The ghostly elf left no traces behind. Perhaps he was but a figment of the forest to begin with.
Janos leads the way in searching out the rapidly aging trail of the Way, and the Demon Wolves who left in pursuit of them. Even for a tracker of his skill it takes some time to get the group on the correct path. However, eventually they find themselves trekking through the shadowed boughs of the Shudderwood again. Soon after leaving the Stairs of the Moon, the group stumbles across the scene of a battle. Signs of struggle, blood, and dozens of monstrous wolf prints surround what they can identify as a scrap of Duristan's cloak. As they are examining the scene a whistling can be heard in the distance.
Momentarily, five Varisians enter the clearing. Their leader is a man with the typically bronze skin and curly black hair of his race. It hangs loosely around the shoulders of his colorful traditional clothing. The other four men with him are dressed similarly. If they were anywhere else in Avistan, the sight of four gypsies on the road wouldn't be too unusual. Here, it is somewhat unexpected.
"Hello!" the leader calls out. "Please, don't worry. We mean you no harm. My name is Rhakis Szadro and I am the alpha of the Prince's Wolves. It's my pleasure to finally meet you all. Seeing as you've left Highthrone in one piece, I must assume Mathus is no more....?"
"You are correct. Mathus is no more. We are pursuing the necromancers that have done so much to upset the balance between your tribes." B'yelka's eyes narrow, "I sincerely hope you are amiable to allowing us to do this task. We have no interest in your discussions of succession"
Anton's bow remains at his side but his right hand rests lightly on the fletchings of the silver arrows in the quiver on his hip.
I thought the Prince's Wolves were in pursuit of those that took the heart, Mr Szadro. he says, trying to hide his suspicion. Have you made any progress? We need to catch them as soon as possible.
"Why have you become involved in our civil war, and why are you after the Way?" Rhakis asks.
Your civil war is your business, and the Whispering Way is ours. But at least for now our interests align. Anton replies. The heart itself and the position of Packlord doesn't interest us so long as there is stability in the wood and the innocent don't get caught in harm's way.
Dantrian watches the exchange with a quiet focus as he feels Feral pressing in at the corners of his mind, trying to exert himself to boast of his dominance over the Silverhides and to establish the same over the Prince's Wolves. Mosswick shoots his master a concerned look, but Dantrian dismisses the worry in his homunculus' glance with a wave of his hand.
The alchemist, his keen eyes glittering eerily silver in the shadows of the wood, adds, "Mathus was in league with our quarry. We became involved when he positioned himself between us and the Way." His stoic gaze then shifts from the swarthy band in front of them to the trail beyond then back to Rhakis, with an expectant look.
B'yelka says in an even voice, "The Way murdered a man, outside of your woods, that in some respects was our pack leader. They also caused a dear friend to be falsely imprisoned. In our pursuit we have witnessed their agents murder innocents to stop us. We are pursuing these necromancers to see our justice done and put an end to their schemes."
Janos' hand strays towards his sword hilt. "Your civil war, all of the packs, it was all a pawn in the Whispering Way's plans. Something tells me you're a prideful man. So what do you say that you've been a toy for them? Mathus was just a means to an end to them. We want to thwart their real prize, but to do that we much catch up to them."
"It seems we are temporary allies at least then. I have tried to keep my pack out of the conflict between the tribes. I view it as foolish and counter productive. I'm much more concerned about the Way and whatever nefarious plans they are enacting."
"I can smell the stench of Jezeldans all over this clearing, mixed with the blood of a man. We tracked the Demon Wolves from here, going east. I believe their destination to be the ghost town of Feldgrau. I sent some of my wolves after them to stop them, but I fear they will not be enough. The Jezeldans must not be allowed to recover Sain's heart. Were they to take over the 'Wood, the consequences....Well, they aren't called Demon Wolves for nothing."
"I propose an alliance. Someone must stay here to rule the packs and keep them in line. It would be terrible for everyone involved should this conflict spin out of control and turn into a war against the humans of Lozerei. I will take over as Packlord, and keep the peace. In return, you will aid us in taking out the Demon Wolves and the Way. If you should agree, I will give you tokens marking you as allies of the Prince's Wolves so that you might work together with my boys in Feldgrau."
Drosil, seeing no other viable option, and knowing that allies of any kind against the Way would be welcome, nods. "You say the way is headed east to Feldgrau? Very well; you keep the packs here from causing further issues, and we will follow the Jezeldans, and the Way, there. Realize, however, that our goal is, and will continue to be, stopping the Way; while we will do what we can to keep Sain's heart from the Jezeldans, it is not our top priority."
Janos finds himself involuntarily sniffing to see if he can detect the same thing Rhakis smells. "I...I wouldn't be opposed to that. I'm uncomfortable with the idea of allying with werewolves,--" A sharp glance to Dantrian follows. "--but any further obstacles may allow the Way to get farther out of our reach."
"What do you know about Feldgrau? You said a ghost town. Is there no one living there? Why would the Way or the Demon Wolves be interested in that town?"
The Ranger looks back to Dantrian again, but addresses Rhakis. "As for you being Packlord, what will the others have to say about that? Cybrisa may oppose you and you could start a new war. Perhaps you and her could come to an alliance to hold the peace until Sain's heart is recovered."
"Cybrisa is no radical. Between us we can keep the Primals in line, especially if you all manage to recover the heart."
Rhakis digs in his pouch and withdraws five wooden tokens carved with the image of a crowned wolf. "Take these. If you encounter my boys, show the tokens to them. They will cooperate with you fully." He holds his hand out with the tokens in his palm. "C'mon, it is best for everyone. The people of Ustalav need your help."
Drosil nods and takes a token. "How will we know 'your boys' in Feldgrau? Wouldn't do to go showing these tokens off to some demon wolves, now would it?"
Janos tentatively picks up one of the tokens. "A deal with the devil to find our real target?" He looks to the others. "I don't know if he can be trusted, but do we have much of a choice? The Shudderwood isn't our fight. We just removed the influence of the Way. Now maybe they can find some order again."
"We are hardly devils. Rogues perhaps, but even that is a bit harsh. The Demon Wolves on the other hand, are literal fiends. You will recognize them by their tainted madness. My boys are all Varisian, and most of us have light grey fur."
B'yelka asserts, "No, our need decided this without our vote." She turns to the Rhakis, "We accept your terms, these tokens and our truce with you. Tell Cybrisa that as long as her tribe does not challenge us, her wolves are safe as well." So long as we get out of these woods before Feral comes back and thinks he can become packlord! "Once we have the heart, where will you and Cybrisa be to take it off of our hands?"
"Here, we will watch Highthrone."
Dantrian remains stoic and silent through the exchange, those his friends can tell quiet plainly by his posture that much of his concentration and energy are focused inward. The muscles in his neck and shoulders are particularly taut as Mosswick shoots B'yelka a worried and mournful shake of his head.
Dantrian then at last ventures a halting question as he massages his brow with one hand, "And- if one of these 'demon wolves' consumes the heart before we are able to recover it? What- ah, what becomes of your conflict then? You serve the Jezeldans without question?"
"If that happens, then feel free to kill the Demon Wolf alpha and bring me his heart instead. All I care about is restraining my more savage cousins in the depth of the wood, and returning to the status quo. If they continue to kill the humans, then all of Lozerei will descend on us in some kind of purge."
"And if one of your Princes eats the heart? Perhaps he wants to show you some initiative?" Janos gives a wry smile.
Rhakis laughs. "They know better."
Dantrian states flatly, "Indeed." His hand comes up to his forehead once more and he clenches his jaw. Looking toward his companions and nodding in the direction of the abandoned town, he asks, "Shall we resume the chase then?"
Drosil nods, "The Way isn't exactly getting closer the longer we wait."
Janos nods and pockets the token. "What do you know about Feldgrau? You said a ghost town. Is there no one living there? Why would the Way or the Demon Wolves be interested in that town?"
As they depart, he holds out a hand to Rhakis. "Best of luck to you. Peace in the Shudderwood would be welcome."
Anton remains silent during the negotiations. This alliance sits well with him not at all but for now his instincts are telling him that these wolves do not have the corruption of evil in their souls. That is enough for the time being.
Dantrian recalls the distance between Ascanor Lodge and Feldgrau is about 134 miles, approximately 4 days’ travel by horse or 6 days on foot.
In wolf form, the Demon Wolves move as fast as horses.
Toward the end of Barstoi’s forced occupation of Ardeal almost 2 decades ago, Count Aericnein Neska’s troops spent a night in the small town of Feldgrau. When they pulled out the next morning, they repaid the town for its hospitality by butchering its citizens and putting Feldgrau to the torch. The soldiers disposed of the bodies in a single mass grave in the center of the town square. Feldgrau became a literal ghost town overnight.
"Seems we have another high light of Ustalav on our trip."