Andrei wakes with start. Is this the creature from the the cabin, one can hope arleast. Getting to his feet his draws his sword. "What's happening?"
At the sound of the beast Stellan appears almost unconcerned, leaning back, his head tilted as though he were listening to something very quiet. Have to tell Warren, and Anwel seems to know the most about the ways of the fae. Stellan cast softly the message spell contacting Warren and Anwel. In a whisper, Stellan says, "I think I hear our little friends checking out the offerings, I suspect the noise is a distraction, but cannot be sure. I'll wait right where I am until needed."
At Andrei's statement, Stellan can only wait before enlightening him.
Perception: Listening mostly.
"That would make sense," says Anwel. "I suspect we are only being made to imagine the noise. Let them at the offering. If you feel up to it, pretend to panic. It may amuse them." Taking his own advice, Anwel begins to feel his sash and pockets, deliberately looking for a wand that is not there and ignoring the bow and quiver slung prominently over his shoulder.
While Anwel's back is turned, you notice one of the jugs of the boggard's brew suddenly lean to the side, pick itself up and disappear into a nearby bush. That is quickly followed by tiny laughter and more rustling as something or someone starts to slip back into the forest.
The creature continues to snarl and snap branches in the woods just a short distance north and west of the camp. From the sound of it, whatever it is will come charging into the camp any second.
Stellan looks about calmly as the bedlam continues. To Anwel's clumsy efforts Stellan dryly replies, "If that's the example of pretending to panic, I'll pass, thank you." He switches the message spell from Warren to Andrei, saying, "Andrei, our fae friends are taking the offering, I suspect the noise is a distraction. Please, stay alert but don't panic, although Anwel thinks if we seem to panic the fae may be amused, given his efforts I'm not going to bother."
Perception:
Vinur sits up twisting his head to track the noises. Bad Sounds! But Stellan's not worried so everything must be alright. Vinur thinks as he looks, listens, and sniffs the air about.
Perception:
"It is all in fun," chuckles Anwel, amused at their reversed roles.
Andrei smiles and nods but moves to put himself between the noise and his companions. Whispering back "perhaps it might enjoy a story as well." then louder "This reminds me of the story of Sir Peruan and the Boar God. Sir Peruan was visiting the neighbouring king Lionois..." Andrei continues the story waiting for the beast to attack.
A minute or so passes with the sounds emanating from the woods and then they suddenly cut off as if the creature simply teleported itself away. The night air is once again filled with the sounds of a few frogs, crickets and the buzzing of the occasional mosquito or other insect.
During all of the noise and excitement, it seems the jug of the boggard's brew that Andrei put out as an offering has disappeared.
The rest of the evening then passes with no further trouble.
Before going back to bed Andrei will speak quietly to Anwel. "Now that the Fey has come and you don't need maintain your spells can I ask a favour? Could you make me a copy of your map or atleast this bit of it, enough that I or someone could find there way back here?"
"It would be my pleasure, Andrei," says Anwel. He finds the request odd. Why would Andrei need his own map? Anwel has, he thinks, been free enough with his copy. Does Andrei plan to come back to this place without him? Without the others? Why would he? Still, he cannot refuse. "I had planned on making copies when we returned home, when I could count on a roof and a straight edge to make the work easier and more accurate. But since you have asked I will have a copy ready for you by morning."
Anwel takes the map, a blank piece of parchment, quills, ink, and his scored slate from his pack and lays them on the ground. The stacks the two pieces of parchment on top of the slate and runs his fingernail over where the grooves on the latter would be, pressing the parchment down into them. When he is finished both pieces of parchment are scored with a grid, and he begins copying the map onto the blank parchment, with tiny, delicate strokes of his quill. The watch has changed by the time he is finished. In his concentration, Anwel has forgotten to maintain the enchantments on his robes, and quickly dyes and scents them while Andrei's copy dries. When he is finished, he puts the original map away in his pack, rolls the copy up and sticks it in an outside pocket of Andrei's pack, and finally takes Udo aside.
"I am glad we finally have the chance to talk," he says, a little apprehensively. He had last handled this subject very poorly. He looks around to make sure Vrag is asleep and there are no approaching threats before continuing. "I had wondered what Stellan told you about me, what you thought of it, and whether there is anything I can add."
Udoeak nods, agreeing that it's good that we've gotten a chance to talk.
"Stellan spoke briefly on the matters of a dispute in leadership, although we seemed to be doing fine without a leader in the past. Regarding you? He told me of your enslavement to a Shadowmistress of Nidal, and of your torture in the past. He spoke briefly of your scars, and her scrying power. Other than that, he relayed to me how our companions feel on the matter, or at least what he knows of their feelings." Udoeak pinches the bridge of his nose at this last bit in annoyance.
"Now, on to what I think about it. This is obviously a terrible thing, one which will have to be rectified in due time. I know at least some of your pain, albeit at the hands of a less competent master, and yet, here I am. I've seen slavery ruin more lives than I care to speak of, and so I will, if I have any way of doing so, strive to help free you of this burden."
"Whether you add anything or not is up to you. For now, I know enough that I might make a decision regarding you. Unfortunately, by all accounts I've heard of her power, it seems as if we will not be freeing you soon, and so I am afraid you will have to carry on as is; for how long, I'm not certain."
Stellan finishes his watch. He waves silently at those going to bed, and to those being woken for their turn. He notices Anwel working away on a parchement finding it an odd time to do so. He nods then turns in to prepare for another busy day.
"Many years," says Anwel. "Of that I am certain, though probably not more than fifty." He quotes that number forlornly, as if to say that his freedom may have to wait until the end of his mistress' natural life, and likely the ends of his human companions' too. He drops his voice to the barest whisper and casts the communication spell to Udo. He had already explained this once, and he was not about to give his mistress a chance to catch him explaining again. "To understand why," he says in Elven, "you must understand her plan. I have already explained it to the others, but from what you have said I do not think Stellan explained it to you. There are those who practice my art up and down eastern Avistan. Natala's homeland sees itself as the center of the tradition, and in many ways that is true, but she wants to make it a political reality. She wants the independent circles to answer to her. To draw them in she needs a political center in eastern Avistan.[/smaller]
"She wants the Restovites' project to succeed." he says, hoping Udo can understand the insidiousness of her plan. His mistress is not really a danger to the mission. She is a danger to Anwel personally, and to anyone close to him, because he yearns still for his freedom. "Once it does, other shadow mages will be drawn to the state that had one of their own present at its foundation. They will hope to hide out, to teach and to learn without being troubled by bandits or Grey Gardeners. She can leverage her control over me to control them, and use them to infiltrate and co-opt the remaining independent circles. If she manages that, it will not be possible to break free of her. If I try to do so before, however, I will not be able to resist her should she come to claim or kill me.
"Thus I must walk a very fine line. I must make it seem as if her wants are fulfilled. A new state will rise. I will draw others like me to myself. Natala, however, knows little of the politics here beyond her special interest, and she cares nothing about the kinds of lives the people here lead. If I can ensure that we build a commonwealth where anyone can live their life secure and free, the shadow mages will be able to live openly as such. They will owe their loyalty to the state and not their discipline. If that happens, and if I can find powerful allies or powerful magic in the wilderness, I may be able to break from her and have the force at my disposal to resist her wrath."
Anwel sighs and shakes his head, hoping that this is the last time he will have to share his plan. He breaks off the spell, but keeps speaking his mother tongue. It is comforting somehow. "Your help and support mean a great deal," he says. "Though it saddens me that it took your being enslaved yourself to understand my position enough to offer it. I fear that that compassion is not widely shared." Anwel wraps his arms around himself. "May I ask," he says, "how you freed yourself? I imagine, from your description of your master, that it did not involve a decades-long plan to play his own wishes against him."
After Anwel has spoken, Udo runs his hand through his hair, jostling his glasses slightly in the process. He responds in kind, in Elven, although his intonations are odd. It doesn't appear he was taught to speak the tongue by an elf, though the words come freely enough. Well, that is unfortunate, that you will have to wait so long for true freedom, but you appear to have at least some free will as long as you adhere to her demands. And it seems she's underestimated your intellect, as well. Your plan should work, hopefully.
"My own enslavement is a different matter. My childhood friends and I were taken from an orphanage, in Numeria, during a raid. Those who were bothersome were killed outright, while the rest were sold into slavery. I, and many others, were sold to Omar, a merchant in Chesed, who trained us in all manner of things, but a fair bit in the manner of espionage. To cut a long story short, he took the love of my life from me, and sent me to a salt mine to live out the rest of my life. Opportunistic bastard that I am, I broke free, with a bit of luck and well-placed incompetency, determined to win her back and flee. I was driven back in my haste, however."
So I hid, although not far enough. I fled to Starfall, where I had a few companions, and managed to make a few new friends of my own. Again, I'll spare the details, but with a plan, and companions, I managed to end him, mostly thanks to his overconfidence, and a gift from my parents. He had already taken my love from me, in more ways than one, and so I have lost her to Pharasma. But finally, I was free, as were those few who had survived his enslavement. In my grief, I set out for new lands, sick of those where I had lived, loved, and lost, and so here I am. He fiddles a bit with the holy symbol of Desna he keeps around his neck, and wipes a tear in memory, but otherwise keeps himself composed.
I haven't gone by this name in some time now, but you can call me Mikol, as was given me by Mother Emma, from the orphanage. She may not have known our language, but she tried. Udoeak gives a small smile at this last little bit. You can call me that, or continue as you have been, calling me Udo.
"You call me by my chosen name," says Anwel slowly, his eyes wide. "I will continue to call you by yours, if that is alright with you." He is not sure how to regard Mikol as a name. Elf parents give their children two names: a formal name to use on documents and at ceremonies, and a secret name to be shared only with family, lovers, and the most intimate friends. Mother Emma would surely not have known this tradition, and Udo himself might not know it, but the possibility that Udo has told him his secret name fills Anwel with awe. "I am honored, however, to know you as Mikol," he says. Especially so if that was the name Udo's love had known him by.
"What became of your companions?" Anwel says, trying to look for something in common between their stories. "From what you have said, it seems to me that their help and support were crucial in ending your master. Were they anything like the other Sowers?" he asks, waving his hand to indicate the sleeping members of their party.
Udo nods. "Either is fine. Like I said, you have the choice."
You're right, he says, smiling slightly. "I couldn't have done it without them. Unfortunately, they were killed, travelling through the wastes of Numeria, although I don't believe whoever it was who did it survived. Udoeak looks over the sleeping Sowers. Not quite. Though one may have had the strength of Andrei, or maybe even Gorax or Warren, my companions were an all-together shadier bunch. We had a mage of sorts, but he drew his power from his bloodline, or so he said.
While Anwel and Udoeak talk quietly through their watch, the surrounding forest remains peaceful. Dawn breaks with a bit of fog shrouding the clearing, but that is quickly dissipated as a soft, warm spring breeze picks up. With a clear sky above, it looks to be a rather warm and pleasant day.
Once the party is up and prepared to move on, Vrag directs the group down a slightly overgrown side trail that leads directly west.
"This will keep us off of the main trails and bring us close to the butte. While we'll avoid most of the Bone Ravens, there are plenty of wild things and other dangers so keep alert." The bugbear offers a toothy grin, "I would not want to be accused of leading you astray without warning."
When he gets up he goes to Anwel and simply says "Thank you"
"Well lets get going. Warren do you want to scout a little a head. Don't get more than about 50 to 100 feet ahead. Does anyone have anything they need to do before we leave?"
Udoeak gets his extracts in order, enjoying the warm morning and stretching afterward, getting ready for another long day of walking.
Shield
Enlarge Person
Infused CLW
Warren stays up with Vrag and continues to chat with him occasionally. He sends his companion ahead and high up to look for threats.
"So, Vrag, would you consider joining with us to help rule this land? I know the recruitment pitch was poorly phrased before. You have seen the assorted hard cases I have to work with. One more would not be much of a problem."
Stellan wakes prepares some light food, communes with Vinur. He moves out with the rest of the party but stays more to the rear now that Warren is leading. He continues to scout to the sides and rear to see if anyone is following.
Perception:
Survival:
Anwel is much more involved than usual in breaking camp. He leaves his books to languish in his pack, knowing there is no way he can concentrate enough on the magic they hold to remember it. Besides, he is happy enough with what he has left from the day before. "It was no trouble," he says to Andrei. All in all, last night had gone very well in Anwel's opinion.
It had not, however, prepared him for this morning's surprise, this time from Warren. Anwel is, as usual, well behind, near the middle of the party, but he smiles into his sleeve at what he can hear. He wonders in Vrag has figured out by now that they are not affiliated with the Stag Lord.
Vrag's eyes open wide with surprise at Warren's question, but then narrow as he asks the druid, "Is this some kind of trick?" He glances back toward Imon and continues. "I do not think many of your companions would find my...uninhibited...presence in your group to their liking."
Warren answers plainly. "I don't deal in trickery. It is my intolerance of trickery that has caused me problems lately. But until you get a better offer, you may want to stick around. As we have seen, these lands can be a dangerous place."
Warren confides: "We have sort of a second chance attitude here. Our previous leader was advocating an amnesty program. I have seen it work through others already. Extending this program to you would be a further stretch, but it is what Thad would want."
Stellan keeps his side scouting going. He's often far from Warren and his talking. He does ride a bit with Gorax, "Yes, it's a fine day, that should become more common soon but we should enjoy what the spirits bring us. If you weren't on a adventure to places full of creatures trying to kill you, what would you do on a day like today?"
Vrag listens to Warren carefully. His eyes squinting from the midday sun he nods his understanding, but still appears wary and hesitant. Eventually he says, "I will think on your offer. I had thought my life would be forfeit if I stayed in this area. This...changes things."
He grows silent as you ride slowly along the winding trail. The trail has run through the forest with little opportunity to see much in the distance, however, you have been gently climbing uphill for the last few hours. Eventually you come to another meadow. This one much larger at it stretches for over a hundred yards along the trail and to either side before the forest closes back in. A small stream runs through the tall grass and early spring flowers offering a pleasant view. But more importantly a series of tall hills and low mountain rising above the forest. All except the very top of the mountain are covered in stands of fir, spruce, pine, and hemlock. The mountain itself is top by a jagged, rocky outcropping shaped roughly like an arrow or spear head. Occasionally, the sun glitters off of the rock as if it were reflecting off of glass or a mirror.
Vrag points at the glittering outcropping and it rounded, tree covered base. "Arrowhead Butte. We should be able to reach it and the cave entrance I found by midday tomorrow."
Disappointed that Gorax isn't very talkative today, Stellan continues his scouting, as they reach the meadow he sees something. He rides up to Warren and Andrei, quietly saying "I see something metal across the meadow and stream near the bushes with the bright yellow flowers, about 100 yards Northeast of us. Looks like a good place to ambush us from." Stellan looks at the others, not at the place he saw something.
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Suddenly the Stellan's words penetrate Gorax's stupor, brought on by the mechanical plodding of the horse and the warmth of the sun, the fresh smell of the grass. Gorax slaps Stellan on the back, almost falling from his horse as he does, "On days like this lie down on the soft ground and let the sun warm my bones. Drink some pure clear water and play with my brothers and sisters. Well that's what I used to do, until I came away and had to earn a crust. So these days, its doing the same, but sharpening a sword or cleaning armor at the same time. Corse, a sleep and some good home cooking is good anyday, rain or shine." he laughs "What about you then Stellan?"
He then watches, with as Stellan goes off on one of his 'patrols' again. Gorax has a pained expression, wondering why he keeps doing that, when there are some days when the world is at peace and relaxation is the order of the day.
Andrei nods to Stellan "Well spotted, this is Warren's area of authority." Andrei says being very conscious of not to overstep his idea of the division of power. Turning to Warren "If you would like my advice I would suggest that you send Tuney to check it out from high up and if it is an ambush then the majority of us continue on the trail and a few of the more stealthy break off and when the majority of us get close we turn the tables and ambush the ambushers."
Imon begean walking near Gorax, deciding to take a second try at learning what he was about. "I know something about most of our companions, but precious little about you. I do not wish to pry, but I was wondering what brought you out here?
He sighed, knowing that wasn't going to get him anywhere. He decided maybe it would be better to offer something about himself first. "When I was a lawman in Restov, I would frequently patrol the trade routes, sometimes people would come through here, I suppose because it was quicker. Anyway, one day I was on patrol when I happened upon a caravan, apparently it was a bunch of families moving to Brevoy. I don't know why, there weren't any alive to question. I don't know why they were attacked, they didn't seem to have anything of value, but they were all butchered just the same. Seeing something like that, I couldn't pretend that there was enough decency in the world that I could stay in Restov."
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Gorax nervous at Imon's story being a lawman, his mood darkens, "It's easy really, I've tried my hand at many things, but it would seem not all drink and it's destructive force the same way i do. Captain thought I was a little too rough on the drunkards that littered the streets after dark, or even anytime. They mentioned I might like to leave the town guard before things got difficult for me. I have even tried prize fighting, but then the big guys, those who set up the fights wanted me to dive, to loose just so they made more money. I mean, I couldn't do that. So here I am looking for a new life, to set myself up so I can bring my mother, brother and sisters to live better than we ever have before. That's it really, to look after me mum. " He shrugs, at his plans not so great as these noble types all around him.
The group moves across the meadow with no trouble, although much of the ground a still muddy and soft from the spring rains. The stream is easy enough to cross as it is not very deep or swift.
The trail approaches within about fifty feet of the large patch of yellow flowered shrubs Stellan noticed a few minutes ago. Unlike the other plants in early spring bloom across the meadow, these seem to have a very strong sickening, sweet scent that must be coming from the thick pollen that drifts from the flowers in delicate smokey wisps of color.
Anwel had spent the past few minutes taking a sighting of the sun while the canopy was clear, and jotting down their position on his copy of the map. There are magics that would change Andrei's map to match, but Anwel does not know them. He will see when they stop if Andrei wants him to keep updating his copy, or if he's satisfied with what he has. "Don't belittle that goal," he says to Gorax. "It is a worthy one, worthier than most." It is certainly much less selfish than Anwel's own. "Speaking of taking care of things, Vrag," he says, "if you decide to stay, where and how do you intend to live? Most of our people are more welcoming than this group," he says, hoping that what he says is true.
"As for welcomes," he says, waving his hand at the flowerbed. "I would not be surprised if this were again the work of our invisible friends." He gets ready to dismount and looks at Warren, who by Andrei's own admission is in charge at this point. After his display with Vrag, Anwel finds to his surprise that he is comfortable with that. "Want me to try poking around in it again?"
Warren looks around with interest, but trusts the distant scouting to Tuney.
Warren looks for anything out of ordinary as they advance.
Warren also decides to continue his dialogue with their native guide.
"Don't go it alone out here--it can be quite dangerous. We got your back--just tell us what you know about this area and when you see something."
Stellan leads the group in the direction of the yellow flowers cautiously. At 50' feet he looks over what he sees and hears.
Knowledge nature Plants, what are they and is there anything unusual about them being in this location?
Perception Do I have a better view of the metal?
Survival Any tracks?
"Warren, maybe an exploration of those flowers by one of your short-lasting conjurations provided by your god, is in order." Stellan looks a bit concerned with those very attractive flowers.
"Ah, you wound me, Stellan!" says Anwel with a laugh. "Let Warren save his spells for something useful."
"An encounter avoided is an encounter defeated. Just give strange flowers a wide berth."
Imon smiled at Gorax's story. "I can understand the sentiment. You need not act as though it is any less noble a goal than anyone else here. Of all the people whose motivations I've heard, yours is the best so far.
When they came upon the flowers, Imon listened to the others before offering his own input. "That seems like the wisest course. Exploring the wonders of this region can wait until we have backup, or at least until someone knows where to come looking for us." Imon said, tryingin vain to ignore the fact that Vrag had been offered membership in this group.
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Even though Imon utters kind words to Gorax, he cannot but notice the disquiet he causes the Gorax, just by being around him and asking questions. Without a word in reply, Gorax spurs his horse on, just enough to move away from Imon.
Until he stops behind Stellan as they discuss flowers, though Gorax is less than interested in following such a conversation, he just sits quietly on his horse letting the sun warm his bones.
Tuney glides over the plants maintaining a solid distance. Seeing nothing of interest, the bird flies further up the trail.
The reflection of metal that Stellan mentioned still glitters occasionally, although whatever it is, is hidden well within the center of the large shrub or group of shrubs.
Stellan unease is confirmed when he identifies the yellow flowers, "I'm getting sure that those flowers are Yellow Musk Creepers, their pollen is a poison that turns victims into zombie-like creatures. It appears that the metal I'm seeing is in the middle of it all, cannot see what that is though. Something left my an earlier victim I suppose. I see nothing coming out of it so I think, if we avoid it, we should not be endangered. Where to next?"
To Imon's comments, Stellan says quietly and out of Vrag's earshot, "I'd as soon, if we disappear, that no one come looking for us. They'd likely just share our fate. Though with the Swordlords handing out charters faster than pickpockets their hands ..." Stellan trails off, characteristicly.
"The wind disperses the pollen once it spreads too far from the plant, however..." muses Anwel, unslinging his bow from his back and fishing his measuring cord from his pack. "And I must say I am curious about this metallic object you've pointed out." He ties the thin cord to the back of the arrow. "If someone can spare a length of rope maybe fifty feet long, I may be able to pierce or hook onto the object, and we can drag it out of the creeper." Vexingly, there is a spell sitting in the spellbook they had found under the oak that would bring whatever it was right out to them, but Anwel has yet to find the materials that would let him rewrite and memorize it.
"Well mark this on the map.
Maybe after we have the seed we'll do some land fishing."
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"A lot of fuss over a bunch of flowers, surely they can't be so deadly that we ignore what might be important." as Gorax scoffs at the powerful and brave, though Gorax has very little understanding of what these plants can do. "What did you say these plants do again?" he asks Stellan once more and hearing Stellan's reply he just says, "So its like grass fever, when we was little ones. Then all we did was put hankies over our nose and mouth, it kept most of the stuff out that caused us to sneeze. Mum made us do that every summer, when the sun was high and the days long. Happy days, well the ones I want to remember, out playing in the woods, camping with friends." his eyes glaze over and a smile is set on his face as the memories come back.
Andrei smiles at Gorax story. With Warren's plan to leave this for later Andrei encourages the others to keept moving "Good idea Anwel but time is important." Urging his horse foward again he says "Vrag, get moving and show the way."
"The clearing is long since marked," says Anwel, shrugging and beginning to untie the string. "And once we are in a position to return here, 'land fishing' will no longer be necessary." The string comes undone, and goes back into Anwel's pack, while the arrow finds its way back into his quiver. He stifles a yawn before slinging the bow back over his shoulder and turning Lairochal's head to avoid the flowerbed.