While the conversation has been continuing, the susurrus of voices has be building in Feigr's mind.
You're all going to die.
Free us.
Having gone silently contemplative for a few minutes, Feigr suddenly speaks "Bah, those of the Beehive are not the sort we need to associate with. Our mission is the mine. Assuming we don't all die there, we'll likely be clearing the Beehive in time. The sooner we get to Tar-Urkatha and begin to clear it, the better. The way there is about two things, speed and confidence in delivering all of our team and supplies safely. I continue to recommend the direct route. It is best known and if we avoid it now, it is one more thing we'll have to scout and clear soon. But, if the rest of you are in support of other routes, I will acquiesce on the condition that we do not get ourselves tied down with distractions along the way."
"Who will carry the Raven Bracer? As it is a magical communication device it will have to be one of us blessed with eloquence and brevity, of which I am only the latter."
"Let Dolgrym carry the Bracer; he's our wizard, after all.
"I don't believe I ever heard an answer...are any of you knowledgeable in the art of surviving in the wild? And Master Stonebrow, will you provide us with pack animals?"
"I'm more than just a wizard, but I'll be proud to wear the bracer for our squad. Hopefully it won't be needed, of course."
Sangvit replies "Aye, we've camel and trail supplies for you."
"Well enough, I'll be ready in the morning unless we've more to discuss."
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As the discussion around the table has slowed and turned to details, Sangvit addresses you "I will leave it in your capable hands kin and honored friends. Tomorrow we stride forth to reclaim a part of our kingdom that was lost. We shall depart at midday so you have time still if have any affairs to settle. We shall meet by the Southern gate and depart the city as one."
Standing and gathering up one of the raven bracers he states "Од крви и смрти - our will shall be done" he then leaves the room with Gaelthrin in tow.
She'll stand as Sangvit and Gaethrin leave, then sit back down and join the discussion of ways & means.
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After Sangvit and Gaelthrin depart you talk among yourselves for a while longer before all prudent words have been said. In the knowledge that you'll likely have a long day tomorrow you file back to your chambers one by one.
Oathday, 17th Pharast, 4711
Rising in the morning you descend to the Breakstride's common room, breakfasting in the knowledge that your fare for the next few months is likely to pale in comparison to it. After a filling meal, you set about any remaining business that you have in Solku before departure.
The morning passes quickly and it is soon time for you to assemble at the Southern gate. Moving outside the city proper you spy Gaelthrin ahead arguing with a Kelish man at the head of a bullock drawn wagon train. As you approach the Kelish man moves off with a smile on his face while Gaelthrin looks like she is chewing on gravel.
The wagon train is tended exclusively by Dwarves, and they number roughly thirty strong. Of those on the wagons, you can make out several warriors armed with brutal looking crossbows and axes; and every dwarf is carrying at least one weapon. Concealed by blanket in one of the wagons is a large ballista. Sangvit is currently nowhere to be seen.
Near to the train's head there are three camel that are secured both to each other and then to a piton driven into the ground. Two of the camel are laden with all manner of bags while the third is free of any burden. To your untrained eye they all appear to be in good health.
After you kneel for prayer to the Dawnflower, you are approached by Chanar Cynore, who bids you well upon your quest. She wishes you well upon your task and gives you two gifts:
Handing you a thin red tapered candle - "This candle is to safeguard you in a time of peril. Set it upon the ground and light it and it will ward you from evil."
Handing you a long scarf that ranges from orange to red upon its length - "Pass this scarf to the elven healer who will join you. She tended to a man who was found in the mountains. We were unable to save him, but in a moment of lucidity - he begged us to pass this on to her."
When you open the parcel, it contains a glass jar and a short letter. Your Pathfinder contact urges you to take first opportunity to secure a sample of the blue crystal marrowstone and secure it in the jar. She also implores you to secrecy, and promises rewards.
"Well, here we are. 3 flea infested camels and 6 adventurers to cross dangerous ground and carve out a safe campsite. I don't envy the caravan though, that road will be as difficult."
"Well, here we are. 3 flea infested camels and 6 adventurers to cross dangerous ground and carve out a safe campsite. I don't envy the caravan though, that road will be as difficult."
"As dangerous as it is, I am excited to finally get to make the trip."
Khepri looks around for Cynara and asks to talk to her aside for a moment
Khepri says, "Cynara, the Lambent Citadel and I are extremely grateful for what you did there when you came to town. If you ever need anything ask me and its yours. Also, Chanar Cynore, head of the Lambent Citadel, told me to pass along this scarf from the man you tended from the mountains. In his last moments he asked for you to have it."
Khepri hands over the long scarf that ranges from orange to red along its length.
"Let's get this show on the road. The quicker we get there, the quicker we can catch something for a right fine dinner. This road tack is going to grow old for the next couple of weeks!"
Love will pick up a silver dagger and whetstone in the market. Rejecting several daggers that are bright and shiny with poor steel under the alchemical bonding. Love chooses something that is long and all point, covered with the tarnish that means old silver.
The morning.
Love sighs as he packs the package in his rather empty looking pack.
"Camels, huh. Oh well better than walking."
Staggering slightly under the weight of a well-filled pack, Cynara joins the party and caravan at the Southern Gate. She has changed her usual comfortable robes for a chain shirt, serviceable clothes, and well-made boots. She's carrying a near-dwarven amount of armament--sheathed rapier, light mace, and a pair of daggers on her belt; buckler secured to her pack; and a longspear in hand. (To a minor extent the martial effect is ruined by the embroidery frame also secured to her belt.) "Good afternoon, all." She eyes the camels warily for a moment; then, making clicking sounds, she approaches them. "Let's have a quick look at you."
Cynara approaches the camels and they continue to stand placidly. Running your hands over their fur you gauge that they are in good health.
Gaelthrin makes a few moments to greet each of you as you arrive, but it is clear that she is mostly engaged with final preparations for the wagon train at present.
Feigr sleeps fitfully again, staying in bed until late morning. At last he stirs, drinks deeply from his skin of whiskey and proceeds to pack up the room.
Return to us today, return...
Once packed, Feigr heads to the market and purchases four packets of silver weapon blanch and a backpack for the journey before joining the caravan at the Southern Gate.
Seeing the others have begun to arrive, Feigr walks up to the group. The dwarf is wearing a sculpted breastplate with a prominent holy symbol of Magrim at the center. A shield is slung over his back and a dwarven waraxe hangs from his belt.
The scent of whiskey is not strong on Feigr this afternoon, but the dwarf seems nervous and fidgety.
"Afternoon, you all ready for our funeral procession?"
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"In the Ninth, there are several steps to initiation. In the first, you must foreswear all allegiance to kin and hold. In the second, you are branded as one of the Ninth, forever marked as one who stands against the destruction of our race. For the third rite of passage, they teach you to sing. Battle hymns, marching tunes, songs of our lost homes."
Padrym eyes the group grimly before continuing.
"The first song they teach you is your own battle dirge. I'll not die here Feigr, nor to some bandit on the road, or some gnoll squatter. I will die with my teeth around the neck of whatever took Tar-Urkatha from my people or not at all!"
"Heh, oh how badly you misunderstand me Steelribs. Its not bandits, gnolls, or even giant ants that walk like men that will slay any of us. I'm not even worried about the living dead. Something darker still lurks in Tar-Urkatha. And now that I go to Tar-Urkatha, I too, will die to see it put to rest. Though I fear we will all just die."
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Shortly after you all assemble at the Southern gate, you are joined by Sangvit. He is garbed for battle, wearing his chainamil and pick at his side - but his head is uncovered. You also see that he is wearing the other raven bracer upon his arm.
Limping up to the front of the wagon train he waves you all close (including the wagon train dwarves) for some final words "Friends and kin all, today we set out upon the final leg towards our goal - Tar-Urkatha. While the wagon train plumbs the old trade road towards the mine, these fine folk will be striking across the mountains aiming to secure us a site where we might fortify our camp while we clear the upper levels. We each have a task at which we must succeed, and by Kols we shall not fail."
Turning to the party "You carry our fated destiny with you, stay steadfast and strong and we shall not fail." his eyes are burning with intensity. He moves to each of you singly and offers a warriors handshake (where you grip the other by the forearm). "нога прати стопала. се руководе од стране вашег Форге пожара"
He then snaps a short salute, which is copied by the rest of the wagon train before relaxing his pose and watching grimly as the party moves out.
In response, Cynara draws her rapier and salutes Sangvit and the dwarves of the caravan. Drama...but it looks good, and makes everyone feel better. She resheathes her sword and takes the camel rope, giving it a tug. "Come on, smelly beasts. Time to walk."
Dolgrym straps on the Raven bracer to match the one worn by Sangvit. He was not knowledgeable about military traditon, but he did nod curtly to Sangvit after their solemn grasp.
He unsteadily mounts his camel and more or less holds on for dear life as the large animal begins to walk. "Never really gotten used to travel by camel,' he groans, knowing the soreness sure to come from the jostling atop it.
"Come on, smelly beasts. Time to walk."
"Who're you talking about there Cynara? We dwarves don't smell that bad do we?" asks Feigr with a low chuckle. "Oh, whoa there Sharpaxe! Those camels are strong, but I don't think they're built to carry you big guy. We'd better walk." Feigr is nearly rolling on the ground with laughter.
"I have to say Dolgrym, I never thought I'd see that."
He's insane.
Padrym looks about as the party begins to move out, grimly nodding to each dwarf in the caravan.
Cynara theatrically waves a hand in front of her face. "Ah, Feigr. For politeness' sake I should have kept silent, but since I already spoke, well...hummus and ale really don't, er, mix well. But we're outside now, with a fine and welcome crosswind!"
"I think I saw a look of panic on that camel's face for a moment!"
"And now I know what to threaten them with to keep them in line, if they act up!"
The company starts upon it's journey, the wagon train growing more distant with each step taken.
You initially strike South along the banks of the river to a well known ford that is a half-days travel away.
"Cynara right? What brings you on to this journey into the depths of a fallen hold? It sounds like the beer and humus are not high on your list at any rate."
I need to learn more. I've wasted the last three days, time to make up for lost time.
The fat dwarf crawls back off the camel. "Didn't understand we were going to walk all the way," he mutters, thinking back to the long path he saw on the map. "That's a long way.,,"
Feigr pointedly looks Dolgrym up and down, "I'm not sure you need to worry about wasting away to nothing. Besides, we might as well get you in condition so that if we have to get away from a pack of the living dead you'll at least stand a chance."
Hearing Padrym's comment to Cynara, he moves closer to listen, "Sure, the paladin's motivation is obvious, but you elves aren't exactly known for enjoying traipsing through great big holes in the ground. Even if it is the most beautiful hole south of the Inner Sea."
The elf turns her milky gaze towards Padrym. "Hummus and mint tea are just fine together, actually."
Feigr pointedly looks Dolgrym up and down, "I'm not sure you need to worry about wasting away to nothing. Besides, we might as well get you in condition so that if we have to get away from a pack of the living dead you'll at least stand a chance."
"P'shaw," Dolgrym dismisses Feigr. "Don't worry about my retreat. I don't plan on running at the first sign of a few undead. If I need to, I'll hold them off for you, whle you get away to a safe distance."
The group makes a steady pace Southwards over the trail that runs alongside the river. The sun is steadily rising into the sky, but the fiery orb is not so hot as to make the travel uncomfortable. There are a number of other travelers upon the road - predominately merchants heading to Solku from nearby townships.
Cynara finds the camels to be relatively easy to manage so far. The two laden camels are both short hair and of tan colouring, while the camel without baggage has longer hair and is paler, close to white. They lope behind you steadily and slowly, often leaving slack in the lead so that they do not need to be pulled along.
The morning passes peacefully and you come to the ford. It is a natural ford where the river gets as shallow as knee deep, allowing it to be crossed easily. The current is not overstrong either, so you need not risk being swept away. Crossing the ford, you pause a few minutes to water the camel before continuing.
By this point the sun is high in the sky and the camel look like they could do with a rest. Gaelthrin saw fit to pack a lightweight shade cloth and posts so that a shield can be set against the sun as you sit. Breaking open the supplies you share out some of the more perishable items that you know will not last long.
"A good day for a trek. How many pounds do you feel you've lost so far Dolrym. And I leave the hummus and tea to you Cynara, if you promise to let me drink the beer."
Padrym winks at Cynara as he says this, as if to convey a feeble attempt at a joke.
Hearing Padrym's comment to Cynara, he moves closer to listen, "Sure, the paladin's motivation is obvious, but you elves aren't exactly known for enjoying traipsing through great big holes in the ground. Even if it is the most beautiful hole south of the Inner Sea."
Cynara walks along without answering for a time, apparently lost in thought. "When the Powers chose me to be a vessel, these forty-five years past, They took the better part of my sight for Their price. Above ground or under, light or dark, I can see nothing past about ten paces away, and what I can see I can't see well without aid." She gives Feigr a sidelong smile. "Ten of my paces, I mean. More like twelve or fifteen of yours."
She is silent for a moment, then continues. "Being outside is still pleasant, for the sounds and--at least most of the time--the smells, but I really don't appreciate the outdoors the way I once did, when I was younger. I miss so much, it's frustrating; in a hole in the ground, I'll be able to better tell what's around me.
"I have often wondered why I was chosen by the Powers--a whim? a plan? I didn't think it was only to be a healer in Katapesh, although that's what I have done for the past forty years. (Although the followers of Sarenrae treat me well, for the sake of my Mystery.) When I learned of Sangvit's mission, though, I knew. And now that I've seen the Stonebrow I can tell. He is sharp. Do you know what that means? Everything else around me is blurred, at least a little. Everything except him, and one or two others I knew from before I crossed the Inner Sea. So I follow him, because I think I am doing what was intended for me. As to why he'd take me, you'd best ask him that yourself."
She gives Feigr a sidelong smile. "Ten of my paces, I mean. More like twelve or fifteen of yours."
"Hah!, Well done Cynara, you're going to get along with us quite well I see."
"I have often wondered why I was chosen by the Powers--a whim? a plan? I didn't think it was only to be a healer in Katapesh, although that's what I have done for the past forty years. (Although the followers of Sarenrae treat me well, for the sake of my Mystery.) When I learned of Sangvit's mission, though, I knew. And now that I've seen the Stonebrow I can tell. He is sharp. Do you know what that means? Everything else around me is blurred, at least a little. Everything except him, and one or two others I knew from before I crossed the Inner Sea. So I follow him, because I think I am doing what was intended for me. As to why he'd take me, you'd best ask him that yourself."[/b]
Feigr grows more solemn, "Yes, that makes two of us that don't know why they were chosen...by the Powers at least. As for Sangvit though, that's easier to explain. He took who would come. Though there may be greater forces at play in those events too."
To Cynara.
"Wondered why you were walking so carefully. My eyes are pretty good on or under the ground. If you need a guide I'm your dwarf. I'll make a point to keep Dolgrym between us and danger. Love smiles as he makes light of his own caution and Dolgrym's bravery.
"Judging by the way that camel reacted Lowfield I think we could all keep Dolgrym between us and danger."
Padrym smiles at Dolgrym and gestures that no insult is intended.
"What a group I have surrounded myself with," Dolgrym rattles off the list, "...a dwarf who wants to blow up the settlement, one who claims to hear voices, a blind elf, and the like. You all had better be glad I'm here to swing an axe for you. And that bastard camel had better watch out as well. There ws no reason for it to react the way it did. A bonk on the head with my hammer might do that spitting beast some good--least then we could have a proper dinner." His head had already began to hurt, and his feet had started with a couple blisters, but he was not goign to complain in front of the others.
Too soon the time for resting has passed and packing up the shadecloth, you return to the slow trudge towards the mountains. The afternoon is hotter and the ground begins to undulate as you get to the start of the foothills that lead into the mountains. Your fitness has not yet been sorely tested, though you see that the ground will get much more steep and treacherous ahead.
That evening, as you make camp, a sleek black metallic raven flaps into view - circling the camp twice before swooping to alight before Dolgrym. As he leans in, the raven speaks "Be wary, word reached us as we left of dark mutterings and ill intent to our expedition. Our paths may be shadowed." the raven then pauses awaiting if any response is to be offered.
"How do we respond to this missive?" Dolgrym asks the rest of the group for their input before sending a response.