Bitterness suffuses the cat's tone as she continues. "I cannot, now. Healer, can you-- put back magic-- that was taken? Can you-- give me back the-- sparks and the-- lightning? I do not-- think so. I am cursed. A thief named Quill tricked my... magic from me. So now I am-- this." She snarls, but weakly. "Barely better than-- a dumb beast. I allow-- riders. I-- survive."
"No," Halla admits sadly. "I cannot." She glances at Kló questioningly, wondering if he might know anything about the cat's malady. "There are many familiar with magic in this market," she suggests. "Cannot any of them help you?"
******For the Birds******
Tassidar smiles. The little Bunting was more than possibly bluffing. Having been struck down so decisively by the Orc in the cavern, the elf sympathized with how the little bird must have felt being manhandled by the hawk.
"Well, if we are speaking of eating one another, please put in a good word for me and point out I made sure Veth did not eat her."
"Do you think her master is actually a wizard? Can she describe him to us? Does she wish to come with us while we find him or her?"
Tassidar thinks if there is a way he can determine if this bird is actually a familiar or is simply awakened.
"Hummmm, could you ask my friend Veth what Ailwyn said that made him so flustered out in the glade?"
******Elk in the Meadow******
"The Elven Star."
Tassidar displays the intricate charm he keeps hidden about his neck.
"It is a holy symbol representing the gods of my people in my world, but also a philosophy. It is the most valuable jewelry I have with me at the moment."
He opens his pouch to display his portion of the gems.
"Here are the loose stones I spoke of. If you see one that stands out I could have it set in silver. Of course we may come across other items in our journeys together, great deeds often yield great treasures. We could add to and enhance your collection overtime adding pieces to commemorate great deeds and triumphs."
Tassidar shows the elf the Varg symbol.
"Here is another charm I have. It is also a holy symbol, of a god of strategic, organized conflict, like siege warfare. I took it as a trophy if that is of any interest to you."
"I could also tie ribbons in your hair."
The elf casts prestidigitation creating a minor illusion of butterflies which fly about landing in a crown upon the elks head.
"As my power grows, so can the gifts I can offer."
Kló watches the sad creature, wondering at it’s stolen power. ”Your kind sounds to have greatness in it, to travel the worlds at your whim.” He pauses, considering, a frown on his long face, ”Tell me, though. Is greatness measured in what the fates gave you at birth? Or in what you choose to do with what you have?”
He lowers himself to speak to the cat as equals, ”We have suffered loss, too. Raiders came in the night, slaughtering, and took children from our village. My friends have risked much, suffered much … lost much,” Eysteinn’s face flashes in his mind, ”… to save those children.” His voice picks up speed, ”At the end of our tale, when we have crossed fates and worlds to return our children to their mothers, the skalds will sing our deeds. Songs of greatness. Help us. Create your own greatness. Do this, and I will help you find this Quill. I will owe you the weight of many children’s lives. I pay my debts.”
Knute hesitates at Sula's question. What should I say to an intelligent frog to convince him to carry me?
"Could you tell him: 'Hello, I'm Fletcher. I'm looking for a companion to carry me to the elves' home, and possibly further. If you're bored, we've had a very exciting last few days, and we'll probably have more. And, of course, I'd be willing to pay in coins or trinkets.'" Knute pulls out some coins, as an example.
Noting the frog's occasional flick of the tongue to bugs on the ground, he adds, "'I can also hunt rather well, if you'd like to have rabbit, bird, or fish on our travels. Or if there's something else you'd like that I can offer?'"
The cat's tail twitches with unhappiness at Halla's question. "Why-- should they? In-- this land-- favors require-- favors, nothing is... free. I do not-- trade-- blindly... and thus-- I do not trade... much at all."
Klo looks over the cat as best he can, but despite an appearance of general malnutrition he sees no injuries. It must be some seidr to restore the creature, and not natural healing as he knows it. He lowers himself to gaze into the feline's yellow eyes, and speaks earnestly to her.
The cat goes still as he speaks, her tail ceasing to lash back and forth and her eyes gleaming with interest that grows as Klo speaks. When he finishes, she is silent a moment. "--I will take your-- trade, mortal man. Your words... have fierceness to them!"
She lets out a yowl-- probably a shadow of what she might produce if she were feeling better-- but still loud enough that a number of animals nearby jump nervously. The purple cat gets to her feet and butts her head roughly against Klo's chest, not a gesture of affection as one might expect from a housecat, but something more formal, perhaps.
"I am Hunts-In-Shadow. I will-- carry you!"
Sula inclines her head and translates to the fey tongue; the frog's eyes steadily regard Knute during the speech, and blink once towards the end.
Sula turns back to Knute and says, "This is... I can't translate the sound well. You might try 'Glorn.' He says he is willing to carry you for one week for the cost of a few gems, and food-- fresh game, as you have mentioned. He remarks upon a fondness for giant dragonflies. After the week is up he supposes you might renegotiate if you continue to wish his services. Also he insists upon having fires built when you rest, if it is snowy, like now."
Tassidar is fairly sure that the bird is indeed a familiar. Veth's manner around the creature suggests that to him; he doesn't think Veth would be so bemused by simply an intelligent bird.
Sula again exchanges some chirps and tweets with the snow bunting, then relays:
"She says her master looks a little like you, but 'old and tired and much smarter than you!' --again, her words, not mine. She says she will come, but that she refuses to be placed inside the tube again, and that if you do so, she will consider herself to be a prisoner of war. ...again, her words." Sula clears her throat, amused, then directs some chirps at Veth.
Whatever is said earns a laugh from Sula. "...mostly, the little bird called him very very rude and impudent and that he should not treat his elders in such a fashion."
"This wolf charm is ugly," Tellignos says placidly as his big elken head moves closer, warm moist breath gusting over Tassidar's outstretched hand.
The display of the butterflies earns a rumbly snorting noise which Tassidar recognizes as a laugh. "Hmn! Tricks and lights are sweet for a season, but crystal and gold last for ages. Your elven star is a pretty thing. For that, I will travel with you and bear you for a fortnight's time, elf."
Kló accepts the head-butt thing, then—not knowing what else to do—he bows his head awkwardly. ”Well met, Hunts-In-Shadow. I am called Fisher here. What do you need for a journey? We go with the elves, and we leave soon.”
He considers the cat, looking at Halla and Rikka, ”Also, will you carry one of these in my place? Their success is more important than mine.” He shrugs, ”The children we seek won’t know me.”
Halla puts some distance between herself and the pair. "I wanted to help it, not ride it."
Kló nods, "Fair enough. Hunts-In-Shadow, you're with me."
Kló looks at Halla's bulky gear, "When we can't use the pack animals, I can carry some of your gear. I'm realizing this might be an endurance chase."
Kló nods, "Fair enough. Hunts-In-Shadow, you're with me."
Kló looks at Halla's bulky gear, "When we can't use the pack animals, I can carry some of your gear. I'm realizing this might be an endurance chase."
"Does her master live in this place? Could I have his name at least so that I will know him when we meet?"
Tassidar knew he could be making a huge mistake allowing the familiar to go free, but he couldn't leave the awakened animal in a scroll case for a fortnight either.
"I will be honored to have you wear it."
Tassidar smiles as he reaches up to affix the Elven star to the elks antlers.
Hunts-in-Shadows just twitches her tail, impatient. "I need-- nothing-- if we can hunt-- on the road. Let us go then!"
Sula informs Halla that either Bo or Bim would be happy to carry a saddlebag; indeed, she has one she is willing to give you as extended loan, if you would like it.
***
"According to her-- yes, he lives here. She says his name is--" Sula listens to chirping, then says, "--that his name is Rys."
***
Tellignos seems pleased with his shiny new bangle. The elk struts around, walking to a mirror hanging on a tent pole and admiring his bling. "Most pleasing. I am ready to travel."
***
Rikka wanders up, still keeping a close eye on Baletooth, who is looking like the last thing he wants to do is ride on the back of the giant feline, but also like he'll commit ritual suicide before he admits such. "How about you ride with me?" Rikka says to the rat, through Sula's translating services. "I'm going to be on a mule..."
The rat captain nods hastily.
***
Tassidar is able to buy birdseed a-plenty, and a bunch of candied berries, plump and fat and glazed with sugar crystals.
Knute nods, accepting Glorn's offer. "Hmm, well, I'm not sure if my arrows will be swift enough for giant dragonflies, but I'll do my best. And I we can have fires, sure." I hope that won't be a problem later... Maybe the seasons will change fairly quickly, and it won't be? Pushing those doubts aside, Knute smiles. "Good to meet you, Glorn," he says. He counts out the gems and coins, then pauses, holding them out, and looking inquisitive. Where should I put them? Knute also turns to Sula. "Thank you very much for translating."
Seeing the others making final negotiations with their mounts, Knute asks, "So are we ready to go? Where are we to meet the elves?"
Sula informs Halla that either Bo or Bim would be happy to carry a saddlebag; indeed, she has one she is willing to give you as extended loan, if you would like it.
Kló looks at Halla's bulky gear, "When we can't use the pack animals, I can carry some of your gear. I'm realizing this might be an endurance chase."
She gives him a wry half-smile. "If we have to leave the mules, I'd move more quickly if someone would carry my bedroll and blanket. Leif Hrolfsson carried them across an ice bridge on our way into the cave that brought us here." She seems to take a strange sort of pride in the memory of the goði's son carrying her belongings.
Sula walks with you as you lead your various mounts to the place where the elves were packing up their tent. There are three other elves here now aside from Mav and Lydd-- one of them was at Hofn, some of you may remember-- an elf male with raven-black hair and eyes as green as new grass (Halla in particular may remember him as the illusionist who had given her the harrow deck); the other two were not at this most recent Jol. They regard you in a sort of awkward silence a moment, and then offer hesitant smiles and nods and ducking of their heads as they continue to finish the last work of rolling up the golden fabric of the tent, and bundling it onto their own mounts. Only Mav does nothing of the work; she stands in the middle of the organized chaos, hands clasped loosely before her, watching and directing as the other-- presumably younger-- elves busy themselves with rolling up carpets and tying things to animals.
Sula talks to the frog, Glorn, negotiating with him a few common signals for Knute to manage in the middle of riding, when there may not be time to have Tassidar translate. Knute learns enough basic commands to indicate stop, go, turn left, right, faster-- and so forth.
The three magical animals, plus Bo and Bim, the mules, have padded, or hopped, or walked, along as suits them, and stand looking around with idle curiosity at the readiness to travel.
Kló nods to Halla and helps her redistribute the heavier pieces of gear, then he finds himself over to where the elves are packing up.
As he waits for the preparations to be completed, standing next to his new feline companion, he gives a quizzical look that includes both Mav and Tassidar. He steps next to the elven mage, pitching his voice low.
"The other elves don't know what to make of you. Are you so different from them?"
Feeling extravagant between the elfmarket-money and the pack animal, Halla purchases a week's worth of elven rations and stores them in the saddlebags with her bedding and the rest of the faerie-coin. (Her own "real" money she keeps buttoned closely in her belt pouch.)
Halla approaches the elven illusionist: not wanting to interfere in his work, she will rather lend a hand and help if she can, without being in the way. "I was told," she says to him in a low tone as she helps hold an end of the bundle while it is shifted onto the horse, "that my request was an ill omen for your people and it was that which angered your goði. I am sorry my ignorance made trouble for you."
Tassidar was having a sinking feeling in his stomach.
"Please tell her I have come seeking Rys and his house."
"Was she unable to make a sending to him when she was captured! Why was she left so vulnerable out in the woods?"
"It's a pity Rys was not nearby when I spotted her for this whole ordeal could have been avoided. I do not wish her to feel as a prisoner of war, unless she knows some state of war exists between her master and I."
Tassidar was roused from his private deliberations.
"Humm? Oh."
His large almond shaped eyes regarded whom he hoped he could still count as kinsmen.
"I suspect Mav may know who I am, though I suspect titles and circumstances of ones birth hold little weight here . . . My people seem to be trapped here, but I don't know how or why that came to pass. Some of them appear normal to me, though they have lost our traditions. Others look as though they have taken on changes like thousands that shape this land, but honor old ways of the Emerald Realm. Elves of my land look much like me with hair and skin colors commonly found amongst humans while metallic hair and pearlescent skin such as mine are a bit of a rarity. . . "
"External appearance do little to reveal one's heart and or mind"
Halla
The green-eyed elf gives Halla a long, wary look and then offers a bright smile that is a shadow of the cheer the elves displayed at Jol. He permits her assistance with the packing work.
"No matter," Cai, for that was his name according to Mav, murmurs. "Rys's bark is worse than his bite. I have been scolded worse."
Tassidar
Sula relays the information once more. "She says she sees no reason to tell you the answer to any of those questions. I'm afraid she isn't fond of you," Sula chuckles. "She says there is no state of war between you now... that she knows of, but that if you put her back into the tube she doesn't promise the same."
The green-eyed elf gives Halla a long, wary look and then offers a bright smile that is a shadow of the cheer the elves displayed at Jol. He permits her assistance with the packing work.
"No matter," Cai, for that was his name according to Mav, murmurs. "Rys's bark is worse than his bite. I have been scolded worse."
Halla manages a ghost of a smile in return. "I suppose our presence here will inspire him to greater heights of disapproval." Her smile fades as she turns her eyes to the completion of the task. "The girl with me, the one you gave the leather ball to ... she was one of the children taken."
Knute intently listens to Sula's directions of how to direct Glorn, nodding and practicing to make sure he understands them. "Thank you very much," he says, smiling. After receiving instructions, Knute mills around, waiting for the elves to depart. He looks for Lydd, hoping to catch a word with her.
Knute approaches Lydd and looks at her critically, looking to see if she still seems injured. Slight surprise crosses his face as he again notices that she's pregnant. I guess I didn't just imagine that, he thinks to himself.
"Are you all right? You looked pretty bad as the other elves took you away." he says, after realizing he's been staring. Then, without waiting for a response, he also asks the question that's been on his mind since he saw the elf: "Am I the father...?" He trails off and makes his voice quiet, hoping to avoid at least his companions' hearing. A strained look is on his face, and also embarrassment. I know this might be a breach of etiquette, as elves and humans usually only interact at Jol, but I have to know...
Tassidar wondered why the familiar had been abandoned. Things didn't seem quite right here, but could he really force the bird back into the tube in the presence of the Sula?
"No matter. They are things I can ask Rys myself I suppose. Please suggest she stays near me so that my hawk does not mistake her for an ordinary snow bunting, I wish to see her safely to her master."
Halla
Cai smiles as if he had a toothache. "It very well might," he says in response to her prognostication of further displeasure from the elf chieftain. The smile disappears at the mention of the child taken, and Cai looks away.
"...that is unfortunate," he says after a pause. "I hope we can help."
***
Knute
Knute sees Lydd moving among the other elves-- with her height, she is hard to miss-- but each time he tries to get closer for a murmured word, she seems to have sudden business with some other animal, or an urgent question to ask a different elf. Finally he manages to corner her as she is getting astride her own horse, and asks his questions looking up at her.
She stares down at him from the saddle. "Flesh wounds. I was seen to by our healers. All is well." Lydd adjusts her mount's reins, staring at them-- then she laughs a cool laugh, tossing her pale hair in the winter air. "You? Most unlikely, little hunter-- I claimed many victories of my own, that night."
***
Tassidar
Sula relays the message, and wishes you well. Ailwyn flaps her small wings and settles on the antlers of the elk, Tellignos, who seems to accept the presence of the tiny bird placidly, other than a murmur to Tassidar in Sylvan that the bird had better not leave any offerings of its own...
The elves take note of the little white bird-- Mav in particular offers it a bright smile. "Why look-- Ailwyn. Rys had quite given her up for lost, did you find her? How remarkable."
***
The mounts, strange and otherwise, are saddled. The elves seem to have fairly conventional mounts for themselves-- horses, mules, nothing too outlandish, even if one of the mules has bright purple fur. The elf-horses are loaded with their rolled-up tents and other market goods; the elves themselves sit their beasts with easy grace, two of them not bothering with saddles at all. Lydd rides ahead of the group about a hundred feet, with a bow; Mav murmurs something about her scouting the road ahead.
Mav talks amiably with you all as you ride, asking about your time so far and what you have seen and observed, and what you think so far of Alfheimr. The other elves keep their speech more to themselves, though they are obviously listening to the exchanges.
Knute has... a time, getting used to Glorn's particular hopping gait.
Bo and Bim, on the other hand, are steady and serviceable mounts, giving Halla and Rikka no awkward jouncing. Tellignos is a similarly rather sedate mount, though is long legs are probably capable of great speed if he wishes. The dweomercat is a bit of a challenge to ride for Klo, as she constantly moves from one side of the road to the other, zagging back and forth before the other animals which are content to move in a straight line. She sniffs at things in the snow, her great purple paws padding softly over the slush and leaving light tracks, her tail twitching. Baletooth watches her suspiciously from the back of Rikka's mule.
"We're going inland," he observes darkly. "Ought to be sticking to the river, that's where there's plunder to be had."
Knute frowns at Lydd's comment, clearly catching her lie. "Are you sure?" Knute begins to press further but hesitates, then decides not to outright call her lie at the moment. "Well... Alright. Glad to hear and see you well." He walks back to Glorn, lost in thought. Why did she lie? Is it just because it's tradition for half elves born of Jol not to know both parents? The ranger sighs as he climbs on Glorn's back and makes ready to follow the elves. This is all so confusing. Maybe I should ask Mav about the elves' ways? Or Tassidar? Maybe I don't have the right to know if the child is mine.
He's soon distracted from all that thought by trying to keep his seat and his lunch at the same time.
As he tries to settle into the rhythm, Knute also keeps an eye on the edges of the forest, looking to keep his promise of fresh game for Glorn.
Kló clings to a mask of reserve as he clings to the big cat’s back. Raised on the sea, he was never the most comfortable on a mount … not to mention one as willful, exotic, and prone to wander as the sone. At least it gets me out from under the nose of the elves, he think sourly as he tries for the millionth time to get used to the strange roll of the cat’s movements.
Baletooth’s comment is a welcome distraction. ”Sometimes a quarry has too much of a head start to simply follow its trail. We need to learn what we’re up against and get ahead of it, if possible.” He nods to Mav, ”We’re hoping they can help us do that.”
He looks back at the little rat-scallion, ”Your plunder might have to wait, though I’m learning that you never know what’s around the next bend in this place.”
A particularly bouncy movement from the dweomercat nearly throws Kló,and he grabs ahold of its fur. ”So … Hunts-In-Shadow,” he grunts through the effort, ”Other than travel worlds, what did you do before you were tricked?”
Halla replies to Mav's questions politely. She seems the only one of the elves not physically pained by our presence ... though she is likely only better at hiding her discomfort than the others. How different they are when they are the ones in our home rather than we in theirs!
If Knute had not had a childhood that often involved being out in his father's boats, perhaps he'd have a worse time of the giant frog-- but the rise and fall of the waves has served him in good stead for the strange lurching gait. He manages to not upchuck his roast rabbit, and is actually rather enjoying the ride, strange as it is.
Baletooth scoffs a little at Klo's words from where he is hanging on behind Rikka, but doesn't otherwise argue or object. "Well! You are captains now, and I am but crew! I suppose you know your business!" the rats says ().
The aubergine cat makes a throaty growling noise at Klo's question. "I hunted. My kind-- eat magic. I hunted many places! Mighty, I was. Manlings like-- you-- they whispered tales-- of me... from your cold lands to-- hot places south, where sand-- stretches like snow, and the stones-- are warm..."
Mav settles her horse, a dainty white mare, in next to Halla, chatting amiably with her. She seems to want to know everything that has befallen you since you set out from Hofn, and listens with every evidence of sincere interest.
When those questions have run their course and Mav seems satisfied, she instead turns to asking Halla about her own life, in Hofn. "I remember from our last conversation, daughter of your people: you are a thrall, they call it? You have a master, then. Is it one of these companions of yours?"
The snow is continuing to fall, in gentle, drifting flakes that linger on hair and eyelashes. It is chilly, but to the Hofn-born it barely counts as cold-- there is no keen wind, to slice through layers of fur. This would qualify as a pleasant winter's day, more or less.
"I remember from our last conversation, daughter of your people: you are a thrall, they call it? You have a master, then. Is it one of these companions of yours?"
She shakes her head. "No. I am apprenticed to the healer, but he is an old man and had many wounded villagers to keep him busy back in Hofn. I was sent with the war band to tend to any injuries they might suffer fighting the orks, but most stayed behind to fight in the cave to let a smaller group try to find the children; and once again, I was sent in case any of the children should be hurt when we found them."
Tassidar smiles back.
lets see how many of you speak elvish.
"I am looking forward to returning her to Rys with my regrets for her brief detainment. She in turn has announced that a state of war need no longer exist between us."
Tassidar chuckles lightly.
"She is full of personality."
The elf tries to gauge the reaction of Mav and those around her to his words.
Mav chuckles softly. "Sent hither and yon, like a leaf blown about by the breeze," she says in response to Halla's words. "Poor child. But did you ever think that your little errand of mercy should take to to the back of the north wind itself?"
The scenery around you is beautiful, as if the world had been frosted in delicate crystals of snow.
Mav listens to Tassidar's explanation, delivered in Elven, with mild interest, then smiles at the end of it. Speaking in Skald, rather than the Elven, she says, "She is indeed full of personality. One might say a surfeit of it. Rys spoils her."
Tassidar, you are fairly certain the other elves understood the language fine-- they seemed to be following along alright.
Baletooth clings to the back of Rikka's pack, hiding beneath her cloaks and furs.
After the first round of questions and small talk and so forth has been asked, a small silence settles over the band of travelers. Then the black-haired and green-eyed elf breaks it with a low, sweet singing-- a melancholy song, in Sylvan, of two young lovers who were parted by a great chasm that arose in the land. Even those of you who don't speak the tongue are moved by the lilting poignancy of Cai's voice, and other conversation ceases for the several minutes that he sings.
When he is done, Mav smiles and waves a hand. "Lovely, but drear, Cai. Perhaps something more... cheerful, all things considered?"
The elf clears his throat, studying the snow before his horse's feet, then nods. "The Cat and the Albatross, madam?"
"If you like."
Though he sings it in Skald, it is not a Skald song that any of you have heard before-- he is apparently translating it on the fly from the original (probably Sylvan). He stumbles here and there and the lines don't always rhyme exactly, but it's a fair rendition of an amusing, nonsensical song about a cat that decided the moon was a great bowl milk, and that he must fly there to drink it all, and the albatross that he tricked into the journey as his winged steed... it is the sort of playful doggerel that any child, elf or human, might enjoy.
The other elves offer song suggestions in turn, and Cai sings for quite some time, until finally he begs off on account of his voice, and rides in silence for a bit. The elves, save Mav, fidget a bit in the lack of music, and one is opening his mouth to say something, but ahead Lydd is riding back from her scouting lead.
The terrain has been steadily rising for some time, and ahead it becomes snowy cliffs and rocks. Lydd draws her horse up and says in blunt Skald, "Some tracks ahead. I think scale-born, but not so fresh. Perhaps we dismount, to go up the switchback? Both for the horses' sake and in case anything ill is about."
This is aimed primarily at Mav, as Lydd defers to her, but the golden-haired elf woman also glances at your group as well.
Knute gets the hang of Glorn's movements just in time to be able to focus on Cai's singing. He listens intently, and shakes his head as the elves stop singing, clearing it of images of flying cats...
He makes his way towards Halla and Klo, and says, "It's so strange to travel with the elves, to be reminded they exist 364 days of the year besides Jól..." He thinks for a bit, then asks, "Why don't we trade with them any other time? Do you think the passage between our home and Álfheimr is only open for a short period around then?"
Knute looks around at Lydd's report, though he sees and hears nothing out of the ordinary. Still, he nods, trusting Lydd's instincts in the strange land more than his own.
Mav chuckles softly. "Sent hither and yon, like a leaf blown about by the breeze," she says in response to Halla's words. "Poor child. But did you ever think that your little errand of mercy should take to to the back of the north wind itself?"
"It is farther than I ever expected to go in my lifetime," Halla replies simply and truthfully.
He makes his way towards Halla and Klo, and says, "It's so strange to travel with the elves, to be reminded they exist 364 days of the year besides Jól..." He thinks for a bit, then asks, "Why don't we trade with them any other time? Do you think the passage between our home and Álfheimr is only open for a short period around then?"
"We are unwelcome here," Halla shrugs. "And perhaps their welcome in Hofn would grow thin if they came more than once a year. Time flows differently here," she glances at Kló. "Perhaps our Jól comes once a month from their perspective. We wouldn't make a day's journey through the winter and back more than once in a month. When would the work get done?"
Kló has never had an ear for music, but he listens nonetheless. At the very least, it’s a distraction from Hunts-In-Shadows’s uncomfortably bumpy, zig-zaggy path.
Kló frowns at Knute’s observations and Halla’s thoughts thereon; clearly he hadn’t considered it. In response, he simply nods, obviously not having any additional insights.
When Lydd rides back, Kló pats Hunts’s neck. ”Um, can you stop?” he says uncomfortably, not sure what the appropriate arrangement should be with an intelligent mount, ”Uh … please.”
As he looks, he talks, "How long will walking the switchback delay us? Time is not something we have."
Tassidar enjoys the singing and offers to play his darkwood flute for the band.
"I would like to play a piece about a boy in a conflict with and ultimately defeating a wolf in the wood. If you listen you should be able to pick out his companion the bird who assists him. It is one of Veth's favorites."
He uses his magic to enhance the performance of Peter and the Wolf.
***********************************************************************
When the scout returns Tassadar packs away his instrument.
Scale-born?
Tassidar wracks his brain for any mention of the term in the books he had read.
"I don't know what a Scale-born is or might look like, . . ."
"but look up and yonder. There! Something flying just above the cliffline, bigger than a mere bird."
Kló squints up into the distance, not seeing whatever Tassidar is pointing out. "You've good eyes, Tass."
Tassidar's performance is politely received by Mav, who smiles and says it was quite a lovely ditty; the other elves look bored and do not have the apparent manners to hide it.
"The scale-born is a term we use for many reptilian creatures," Mav says. "As a whole, they usually serve the Wyrm, due to their affinity. Lydd, you are sure of these tracks?"
The golden-haired elf merely nods-- then looks sharply back over her shoulder at Tassidar's observation. "Where...."
"Hm," says Mav. "Perhaps we might leave the animals who are ill-suited to battle here, and much of the gear, and investigate? If there are Wyrm-servants lurking on that cliff I would prefer to encounter them on our terms. Shall any of you accompany me?" she asks Team Hofn.
The cliff in question is about a hundred and fifty feet away from your party yet, rising out of a light forest of mostly-pine, all the trees covered in a light blanket of snow.
"As a whole, they usually serve the Wyrm,"
Kló is moving before Mav offers the invitation, sliding … well, tumbling from Hunts-In-Shadows' back. He takes a few awkward moments to recover himself and right his gear before making his way over to Halla and Rikka.
”Baletooth, you’re with me,” he mutters, offering the rat-scallion a hand in dismounting from behind Rikka. He looks over at Mav to check her response to the pirate’s presence, seeing if she’ll object.
He removes his pack, setting it on the ground as he fishes around inside, removing three torches and a coiled length of rope, which he tosses back over his shoulder. The torches are secured through the coils. The pack goes onto Bim, and Kló finishes by re-checking his shield, kleaver, axes, club, then finally the longspear in his hands.
”We will see if these are wyrm servants,” he says as he works, ”and we will test their measure … and show them ours.” He gives his teammates a look, making sure everyone is onboard, then he walks back towards the front of the group (without offering to help Rikka or Halla from their mounts).
He comes to stand next to the big cat, giving it a competitive smile, ”Shall we test our greatness, then, Hunts-In-Shadows?”
The big northman stands ready to move forward.
Looking at the snowy cliff, Halla remembers her sliding tumble off the ice bridge. "Perhaps I should stay with the animals," she suggests, "and stand ready to heal those who may be injured."
"We are unwelcome here," Halla shrugs. "And perhaps their welcome in Hofn would grow thin if they came more than once a year. Time flows differently here," she glances at Kló. "Perhaps our Jól comes once a month from their perspective. We wouldn't make a day's journey through the winter and back more than once in a month. When would the work get done?"
"Some would resent them for coming so often, sure. But for a lot of people it would be great. Sven, for example, would be very pleased if he could trade with the elves more than once a year. Jól coming once a month for them, though... I'd forgotten how fast time might be flying by back in Hofn." That thought silences him as he thinks of his mother, and all the worried parents hoping to see their children again.
Knute glances up at sky, still not seeing what Tassidar did, but trusting the elf's sharp eyes. Knute signals for Glorn to stop, then looks up at the cliff. "I'm eager to get to the elves' camp and get a lead on finding the children, but I suppose it is better to deal with enemies when we know of them rather than have them hound us. Or report to the Wyrm, if that's possible," Knute mutters. The ranger asks Tassidar, "Tass, could you ask if Glorn would like to stay here or head up the cliff, please?"
Mav directs several of the elves to remain at this location, with some saddlebags transferred over to them, but stays on her own fine-boned white palfrey and rides forward at a sedate pace. Lydd is the only other elf to accompany her; the golden-tressed elf has her bow drawn and an arrow on the string. Mav makes no objections to Baletooth's presence-- instead she smiles brightly. "Perhaps you'll earn your keep, little one."
The rat sniffs and draws his fancy knife/sword.
Lydd looks over her shoulder at those who are choosing to accompany the forward group.
"If this is indeed some ambush, then no doubt they will be waiting on the higher stretches of the road, to rain down death on us as we try and approach. I can try and slip closer unseen, and climb higher. What would you have me do, Mav?"
The indigo-hued woman tips her head, considering. "I think I would rather we stay together, for now. Remember you have another life to think about now, Lydd."
Lydd flushes red at this and looks away unhappily. Mav continues, "Still, tactics of battle are not my strong suit. You people of Hofn are often troubled by raiders, are you not? How do you think we ought to approach, if the high ground is held? Would some of you care to try Lydd's plan?"
Hunts-in-Shadow lashes her tail side to side. "Come among them... like... lightning. Strike. Bite. Rend."
"Thank you for that suggestion," Mav says serenely. "Anyone else, besides the apex predator?"
Lydd is able to tell you the following of the terrain ahead: the road leads to the base of the cliff as a gradual rise, with a moderate amount of forest and undergrowth between here and there. The cliff face itself, and the road winding up it in a switchback, is rocky, not too steep, and relatively easy to climb if you wished to try. The road is usually broad enough for two to walk abreast, and proceeds in a steep-but-walkable switchback upward. There are still a number of trees on the road and the cliff-face itself, which could provide cover both to people wishing to climb, or to theoretical defenders/ambushers.
Halla keeps quiet. All she knows of raiders is to stay behind the warriors and try to keep them on their feet.
Kló stares at the cliff face for an unusual amount of time... long enough that everyone is wondering if he's okay. Then—without warning, he looks over at Halla and Rikka. "Didn't the prankster's jug have some kind of drink to turn someone into mist for a short while?"
He nods to the cliff, "If one of two of us could get up there and ht any ambushers from the side or back while the others rush up the switchback, it might save us all some pain."
The elf nods at Klo's words.
"Time is of the essence which justifies the use of our magical resources."
"If we gave Hunts-in-Shadows and you the flying potions and the gaseous form potions to others we want in strategic locations, or able to make an escape, that would give us something to work with tactics wise. I assume Baletooth can climb and is deadly when striking with surprise."
Tassidar tries to puzzle out what the flying creature is.
"Mav, is the area known for drakes or wyverns? What do you think is up there waiting for us?"
Kló gets an 'i'm going to regret this' look as he regards Hunts-In-shadows. "With a single drink of Fly draught, Hunts-In-Shadows can get himself, me, and Baletooth up there."
With a slow blink, Halla envisions a purple cat flying to the top of the hill with an Ulfen warrior and a rat pirate on its back. Five Solomon should be here. What is Jól to this?
"Do not expect too much of the rat," she cautions. "We defeated him; his combat prowess cannot be all that he boasts, and he is as likely to sneak away to return to his crew as to put himself in danger on our account."
"True," Kló grins, "but what if Hunts-In-Shadows gets hungry?"
He claps the rat on the back, "I joke. You wouldn't be a mouthful. Plus, we may need someone who can move unnoticed up there."
Baletooth doesn't speak Skald so doesn't know that Halla is casting ASPERSIONS on his HONOR. He very gingerly climbs onto the giant cat, who lets out a rumbling purr and seems to be smirking. When Tassidar enquires of him in Common of his tactical gifts, the rat says he is excellent at moving unseen but that he would never stab someone in the back! Probably not, anyway. Maybe only on days ending in Y...
Mav hums to herself, with an ironical smile, at Tassidar's question. "It is a bit difficult to say. You see, this land is not static. The roads will always lead to the same places they have led before: this is why they are so valuable, for their consistency. And certain other features, especially those that have a powerful spirit attached to them, have acquired therefore patronage, and permanency. The river that flows by the market has an old nymph as its guiding will, and she has kept its flow and position more or less the same for as long as I can recall. So: landmarks remain constant. Everything else, in this land, is subject to being remade at the whims of the Eldest, who struggle one with another for how they think this world ought to be."
She spreads her hands in a shrug half-apologetic, half-amused, and adds drily: "When we came this route two days ago to go to market, there was no cliff here, you see. Small round hills with grass. This is part of why I have Lydd scout: to know what changes the world may have taken, in the last wave."
The elf-woman's amusement fades into something more serious. "It was a winter-wave, so likely the Wyrm is stronger, just now. He is not the only of the lords of this place to claim the cold, but..." she shrugs.
"I must remember that you know nothing of the ways of this place," she adds on, rueful. "Or nothing more than stories, and what you may have read."
Tassidar: the figure you saw swooping in the air, briefly, could well have been a drake.
Knute looks up at the cliff, thinking of himself flying up to it. An image of the ranger flapping his arms to rise makes him chuckle, and he shakes his head. "I'd be more comfortable sneaking up the cliff than flying up to it. What if we or our mounts are attacked while in the air? We could be separated from the group, surrounded by creatures more used to being in the air than we are, and less able to sneak up to the summit; I don't like that scenario." Knute trails off, then shrugs. "Maybe Baletooth can scout? Or Tassidar's hawk? I know how to sneak on the ground, and so long as we just have one scout, either as a mist or not, to ensure there are no traps, that'd be my preferred route. Still, I'll defer to the group's consensus."