Skill flurry!
_HRF.jpg)
"It sounds like her original deck is back home somewhere. Finding it would be very, very impressive. There should be some way to use our link here to find that deck"
Niklos shakes his head. "I've just about had enough of magical harrow decks for one lifetime, thanks. I just wanna get outta here..."
"Speakin' of which," he adds. "We should see where we're headed next..."
Digging into various hidden pockets in his coat, Niklos produces the rest of the tokens in his possession: a massive emerald, a magnificent ruby, a silver bracelet inset with a large diamond, and a garnet and gold pendant. He places all of them on the table next to the onyx-tipped quill, looking expectantly at Edda.
"This should point us to the dragon, and his fortress," he says in a way of explanation, should Hrain or Marinda seem confused. "All parts of the same whole, Sonnorae's kapenia—Zassrion has the last piece of the puzzle. The scarf should be able to get us back home... I think. I mean, it better!"
Feeling drained and nearly dead...Edda sits to discuss confirm with the others the coming fight.
"We need to rest and regain our strength again. We will have to deal with the Paladin ONE last time then head for the dragon. I'm not sure how the gems lead us there. Maybe we have to have them all together as we enter the forest? Any speculations? Knowledge about dragons and killing them could come in handy too. I want have the right spells ready as we deal with it."
She then starts casually setting up a little Harrow solitaire game in front of her, looking at the others occasionally as she does so.
"We can't go blundering into the Dragon's castle. He's probably expecting us by now, so we need to pool our resources and abilities if we intend to take the scarf without getting snookered. Remember...he's the one who drew us here in the first place. He WANTS these gems. He wants OUT too. Can we afford to allow him to do so?"
Reacting to the proximity of each others, the tokens start moving slowly in the direction of the Tangled Briar, outside Prophet's Garden. They give out just a slight nudge, but the meaning seems clear.
Niklos gathers all of the tokens into a sack, tying it firmly around his belt. He then tries walking around the gazebo, seeing if they keep pulling him in a certain direction. If possible, he tries to triangulate their exact heading, though he is keenly aware that it most probably does not matter.
"I wouldn't mind a rest," he says with a small cough. "Your dear ol' granny did a number on me, for sure. Felt like my lungs were filled with glass, but, like, both molten and in shards at the same time. Don't recommend that you try it, is what I'm sayin'..."
He continues his musings in a slightly more soured tone, glancing ruefully at Sonnorae's remains. "Can't rightly say I've faced any real dragons before, but I don't know if it makes a bit of a difference. This place wants us to do things, and we do 'em. Right? Who even knows if we've any say in it, what with the cards makin' things happen out of the blue. We'll have to fight the dragon. Doesn't make for a good story if we never face the big bad, now does it?"
The scoundrel produces a harrow card from the folds of his coat, showing it to everyone with a shrug: The Tyrant. "Well, things being as they are, this might help. I sure as hell don't intend to stay here. Who cares if we fail 'n' Big Blue goes free? We'll be dead anyhow, and he'll be someone else's problem."
"Well, I care! I don't want to loose a dragon upon the world. But if I'm understand things correctly the Deck WANTS us to win, to defeat the dragon. So I'm hoping that we'll have the advantage. Lets rest up and then go face the dragon"
Niklos answers Marinda's concerns with another shrug. "Whatever, just as long as we're on the same page 'bout offin' the beast..."
Taking on a slightly more respectful tone, he adds, "If you could, Honoured Reader, I'm in dire need of some magical healing. You know, the whole my-lungs-trying-to-escape-my-body-through-my-mouth thing I mentioned earlier—it really does hurt quite a bit."
Your knowledge of dragons mostly stems from tales and reports. The so-called true dragons are large, reptilian creatures of enormous power, which can be classified into metallic and chromatic, according to the color of their skin. With rare exceptions, metallic dragons are wise, majesticand noble creatures, while chromatic ones are murderous, dangerous foes hungering for carnage and treasure. A dragon grows larger and more dangerous as they age, and older ones can call up powerful magic, as well as being fearsome combatants with their claws, bite and dreaded breath weapon.
Among the chromatics, the blue ones are those who most often manifest a desire to control and manipulate, rather than wantonly slaughter their foes: often they will take over a city or other territory, ruling it with an iron fist and ruthless territoriality, but also protecting it from threats. They mostly live in the deserts and their breath weapon is a devastating lightning discharge.
Nodding at the discussion on dragons, Edda responds.
"OK...that's good info. Let's hope that is all more knowledge than conjecture and tall tales. Can we use the Paladin? He REALLY thinks this fight is his...I wouldn't mind letting him take the brunt of this fight in the beginning if it can help us...before the dragon fries him like an egg in his armor. On a similar note: Can anybody cast a spell of lightning protection?"
Niklos shrugs. "You're the ones with the fancy spells. As for that fool of a paladin... yes, I guess I could try gettin' the buffoon to march in afore we do, but if he doesn't feel like co-operatin', it'll likely end up with us havin' to kick his tin-canned ass..."
After thinking it over for a moment, he nods contentedly. "Kind of a win-win situation, really."
Edda smiled jovially at the thought of watching the annoying Paladin fry inside his suit of armor.
"Yeah...I kinda thought you would like it."
Hrain frowns. "I do not relish the thought of attacking the man, but I will defned us if he leaves us no choice."
Edda waves Hrain off from that subject.
"No...we have what he NEEDS right now: A way to get to the dragon. We just need to use that to our advantage somehow. These characters...some have free will now, but this knight...he's VERY determined."
"Normally I'd be unhappy at convincing somebody to die in a fight. But here it IS letting him fulfil his destiny. And you've told me that death, at least for the storykin, isn't permanent here.
I'd have to wait until tomorrow but yes, I can get the spirits to grant me the ability to protect against lighting"
Prophet's Garden remains the most comfortable place in all of the Realm, even more so with the twisted presence of Sonnorae quelled for the time. You rest in the spring-like air close to the pear tree, where the unicorn is dozing off, and as you open your eyes at the crack of the next day, you can't help but wonder whether you woke because of the dawn, or dawn came because you woke up.
Niklos sleeps as long as he is able, only dragging himself up off the floor after being kicked repeatedly by Edda. He re-ties the pouch on his belt, making sure the tokens are secure. Stretching and yawning as the group heads for the woods, he mutters groggily to himself. "No rest for the wicked..."
"This dragon better have enough gold to pay for an early retirement..."
With a bitter voice, Edda replies.
"With OUR luck it will all be Fool's Gold..."
"Gold is nice but all I really want is to get home to my family. This place is absolutely fascinating but I think its time to go home"
"Gold is indeed a poor reward, but the glory of Dragon-Slaying! That live forever. Let us depart."
Niklos shrugs at Hrain. "I can't eat, drink, or smoke glory, so there's that. Well, I s'pose I can't do any o' that with gold either, but valuable metals tend to have a better exchange rate than intangible concepts. Anyway, I'm happy to take your share, if you're so above wordly needs..."
"Let's survive first. I wanna live to see real snow and feel the real sun on my face again. I miss the feeling of a ship's deck beneath my feet, as it races across the ocean. A segull's cry...GODS we need to get out of here. I'm starting to wax poetic! Brain damage assuredly."
"Maybe we'll be able to buy an island," quips Niklos. "Where do you think'd be a good place for a pleasure palace, cousin? Off the west coast of Garund might be nice: sunny and warm. Lots of pirates, too—I'm sure you'd love it! Preferrably not too close to that big whirlwind, though..."
The swindler turns back to Hrain, pressing on. "C'mon, big guy! There's gotta be somethin' you need. A bigger, uh... whatever that is you hit people with?"
Edda shrugs.
"Nah. I wouldn't mind buying a ship and sailing off the edge of all the maps however...just to see what's there. Find a crew to do that would be hard however."
"Hah! You've got me little man. I would love to see your world, but my own is in dire need of me first. I hope that however I manage to get back there is reversible, as I would hate to leave you all alone. You'd need my hitting skills!"
The tokens, when put together, all point in the same direction, tugging faintly but clearly. At the entrance to the Tangled Briar, you let that direction guide you forward. Of course, you first have to pass the clearing where Algon the Ever-Seeking comes to confront you.
And just as predicted, the paladin comes out of the woods opposite to you, speaking bombastically. "Halt there, travelers. I have been watching you, as you moved through this Realm, and I gather that you seek to slay the evil tyrant, Zassrion. But your quest is futile, for I am Algon, the only one who is fated to defeat the monster! Hand over to me the way to reach the Striding Fortress, lest I be forced to do harm unto you, for my righteous cause. I shall not enjoy it, but I will do so if you force my hand."
Niklos seems to seriously consider Edda's words, pursing his lips thoughtfully.
"I might just take you up on that," he muses. "First Mate Niklos Voski, how's that sound? Oh, better put a pin in it for now..."
The swindler takes a deep breath, seamlessly dropping into a familiar character. He throws himself on the ground, groveling at the knight's feet.
"Oh, thank all that is good and holy!" he cries out tearfully. "Your arrival is most welcome, Sir Algon! We do indeed possess the way to the Striding Fortress, but lo! A foul curse has been placed upon the artefacts! Only those who are pure of heart are thus affected, leaving them unable to call upon the gods. Please, allow us to lead your way, so that you might do battle with the foul beast Zassrion without suffering our fate!"
A sly smile crosses Edda's face.
"I've even heard Niklos there mention something about being your squire if he could..."
"Yes, he is a humble and meek soul, but he would serve you!"
"I know that we need to do this and it really isn't killing anybody, but I can't bring myself to actually lie to the poor little thing"
Marinda just stands there, mutely watching the interplay
"Squires? An alliance? A powerful force for good, led by me? How could I refuse such an offer?"
Algon extends a hand to Niklos to help him off the ground. "Worry not, certainly the curse was created by the Patchwork Lord, and shall end as soon as the beast draws his last breath. Lead on, so that darkness may fear our approach!"
It takes about an hour to follow the tokens across the Briar, and the position they are pointing keeps shifting, as if following a zig-zagging path. Finally, you hear the hissing of steam and the thumping of enormous feet, and the thorny vines open up to show the Striding Fortress. An unsettlingly yet regal fusion of masonry and mechanics, this citadel of white stone and gleaming bronze marches proudly through the trees and ruins beneath.
The Fortress itself stands 60 feet above the ground on two massive metal legs. As you watch it, it takes a step forward, moving with the slow determination of such a huge construction.
"Ah!" exclaims Algon. "Already our mettle is tested with obstacles, an unreachably high step to the gate! How would you deal with that, squires?"
Edda smirks.
"I can fly up, but I don't know about the rest of you. Anybody got a really long rope?"
Niklos takes to his new role without breaking character, continuing to fawn over Algon, though he does throw the occasional scowl at Edda and Hrain.
Faced with the formidable edifice of the Striding Fortress, Niklos reaches into his haversack, pulling out a length of silken rope attached to a grappling hook. "About as long as they come. Whoever came up with the fifty-foot standard for ropes should rightly be hanged, preferably off a fifty-foot tall cliff. As things stand, I think we're about ten feet off the mark, so you're gonna have to hook it as low as possible..."
The scoundrel surveys the surrounding terrain, seeing if there are any hills or rocks that might be used to jump onto the rope once it is secured.
Smirking, Edda takes the hook, then glances up for a safe place to attach it.
"Maybe Algon will let us stand on his broad shoulders..."
Hrain, who has been staring up at the keep, suddenly says "Hah! I have just the thing!"
He reaches into a socket on the back of his shield, shuffling through the cards there before revealing the Keep.
"Oh mighty fortress, accept this reflection of your existence" he intones, as he plays the card before the edifice.
The Keep card is played, and its powers echoes in the clearing with a low hum.
"Certainly!" Algon seems enthusiastic about Edda's plan. "With all of my might, I shall help you up, that you may later lift me together! To be the rock his squires stand upon, such is the duty of a true knight!"
"I'm not as spry as I used to be and I think I'm going to need a harness or something to get up to the castle"
Niklos shrugs. "Well, can't really do much about that. If we make the rope any shorter, none of us ain't gettin' up there. Better start doin' warm-ups..."
He glances at Hrain. "Unless the big guy can carry you up there, or somethin'."
Edda slaps her head and smiles. She then digs an emerald-green feather tied with a green ribbon out of her sash.
"...I'm so stupid. I have an idea! Here. Take this feather token Niklos. Get ahead of the fortress a bit while I fly up. Once I have the rope attached, you guys use the token. It grows a really big tree-QUICKLY. Maybe you can jump up on it as it grows, or at least it should be easier to climb. Then when the fortress approaches, you grab the rope and climb the rest of the way up as fast as you all can. OK?"
"Genius! We shall not be beaten yet!"
"And here I thought my days of climbing a tree were behind me. 50 years behind be"
"Excellent idea. Hopefully that should work"
Niklos shrugs, grinning at the sheer absurdity of the idea. "Well, what're we waitin' for? Let's ride a tree!"
Edda activates her flight hex and takes the grapple hook end of the rope. She then hesitates for a second.
"I hope you all end up OK up there. We might not have much time later to chat, and I wanted to let you all know: It's been a pleasure. Even that thief Niklos! Whatever happens with this dragon..."
Obviously embarrassed suddenly, Edda turns and flies upward looking for a good place to solidly place the hook.
A massive oak sprouts from the ground, growing at supernatural speed over the light undergrowth that is the Briar. Edda flies up to find two massive wooden doors, large enough for ten men to walk through at the same time. The doors are slightly ajar, creaking and swinging as the Fortress moves forward. It's easy to secure the grappling hook to a low fence on the platform just outside of the entrance, and the rope uncoils downwards as the tree grows.
All of you manage to climb the growing tree easily and grab the rope, bracing against the trunk to help you up, even Algon despite his heavy armor.
"Ha! Excellent thinking, squires! Onwards, then! Let us slay all who stand between us and the Patchwork Lord!"
Landing, and saving her remaining flight magic for later, Edda looks around for obvious traps and dangers near the entrance while the others climb aboard. She shifts, gaining a bear's snout and claws in order to add her nose and heightened awareness to her search.
Edda activates her flight hex and takes the grapple hook end of the rope. She then hesitates for a second.
"I hope you all end up OK up there. We might not have much time later to chat, and I wanted to let you all know: It's been a pleasure. Even that thief Niklos! Whatever happens with this dragon..."
Obviously embarrassed suddenly, Edda turns and flies upward looking for a good place to solidly place the hook.
Niklos grins, winks and blows a kiss in Edda's direction, but follows this with a more solemn nod.
"Time to show our hand," he mutters.
"Ha! Excellent thinking, squires! Onwards, then! Let us slay all who stand between us and the Patchwork Lord!"
The scoundrel draws his rapier in a salute towards the knight.
"Lead the charge, my lord!" he calls out. "Your loyal squires will be right behind you..."
"...a safe distance away, of course."
"Well, I made it. That was actually fun!"
She looks around with a stern expression on her face
"So, where is this dragon then?"