Pelipe's eyes travel to their changeling ally at all of this talk of hags. Slowly she slides over to her and lingers close. She gives a light bump on her arm with her own to show that she "is there for her," accompanied with a warm smile. From Katrine's own words, there was bad blood between Katrine and the hags. Perhaps she is emotionally needing comfort?
Antonín bows upon introduction. "Greetings, m'lady."
I wonder how a First Citizen differs in the eyes of Tamlyn law from what I assume are non-fey citizens. Probably not the best time or place to ask.
Katrine turns to Pelipe, surprised. Oh... of course, she probably picked up on Katrine's ancestry. The mage is obviously well educated, after all. And she's still smiling at me? Wow. The ranger tentatively smiles back. A niggling little voice in the back of her head warns her not to get too close, Pelipe is still a stranger and friendly strangers are a potential threat. Katrine squashes the voice and tries to focus on the conversation with Tiressia. She needs allies and Pelipe has proven herself in combat at Katrine's back.
The Vixen isn’t sure if the visit to Elenthe is related to Horace’s death or not, but she doesn’t worry too much about Melianse’s agenda. With trust, ye give as good as ye get.
Pelipe looks to the grove around them. The sights, smells, sounds of it. If she can, she takes in a deep winter breath to get the feel of this place. Was it at one point bearing marks of druidic rituals? Does it bear marks of trampling underfoot such as what would be seen in a large party of fae? She is attentive to these small details, especially the ones in regard to their host. Does her clothing bear signs of plant-based materials? Does she carry weapons? Can she likely cast spells? All this is done with reverence, but a studious eye as she stands next to the ranger.
Despite this, you can't pick out any signs of regular rituals within the grove. If you had to hazard a guess, you'd say that the only visitors to frequent the grove, other than this dryad's satyr consort, are these councilors of Tamlyn.
"Elenthe's tree is actually along our route," Melianse replies to Lord Ahto. "For better or for worse, we were going to have to pass through the swamp anyway to enter the wider River Kingdoms and progress to Uringen. This just provides us with at least one reliable landmark along the way."
The nixie sighs.
"Anyway, if there are active hags in the Slough, we can deal with them after our visit to Uringen. The baron's account is from almost two human generations ago. Another few weeks shouldn't hurt."
A short time later, Melianse quietly approaches the Vixen.
“I don’t know if this all comes from the same source. Given the… y’know, that unprecedented power to kill, drakes’re by far the weaker attack. But still, me concern’s that ignoring this problem won’t do anyone here any good.”
Her implication is that the problem needs to be kicked in the throat.
"A swamp you say?" she thinks with a bit of a shiver. "I greatly dislike swamps, but I can't say I've been to one in winter. It's usually hot as death out when I near one. This should be interesting. I wonder if all the water freezes over?"
For the newcomers, it is a directionless path. They know they are heading to the River Kingdoms, but that could mean tens of miles or hundreds based on where they are from this location. Also, it doesn't help that Pelipe has no clue where she is.
Being that she's being very attentive, it is quite easy for her to notice the details of the secret message, but for her, it is without context and therefore unimportant for the moment. She logs it away for later should the need arise to ask questions.
"So our host is a druid...and likely a powerful one at that."
Perhaps she can placate their host by being kind to her and recognizing her power where others do not?
"Hardship and struggle has overtaken this region, not just for those who seek to make a home here, but for the creatures as well. If hags are here, they likely seek to disrupt the natural processes of things, crafting their wickedness on all who seek peace and harmony. We may not be of the same origin, but we all desire peace," she will then gesture toward her hidden weapons. Perhaps indicating that she wouldn't need them if they succeed?
"A swamp in winter? Great. I've done that too many times, it's not pleasant. Here's hoping the water is frozen solid. If not... anyone who knows endure elements, we're going to need it. The mud will suck the warmth right out of you and furs don't do any good once they're wet." Katrine grimaces at the thought of wading through ice-cold muck. Again. One thing she hasn't missed about Cordelon is the swamps. "Well, whenever we get around to fighting hags, I will be more than happy to help. I've trained extensively in fighting monstrous humanoids." She idly fingers the haft of the axe on her hip.
The Vixen always loved that spell… shame nobody here seems to know it.
“Me mother used to cast that on me all the time,” the Vixen says to Katrine. (Or is this Addison talking?) To Pelipe she adds, “Mending was cast on me almost as often.”
Maybe Melianse now realizes this magic was cast upon VV before their meeting in frigid waters. Maybe the nixie knew the whole time. The Vixen is unconcerned. (Addy is mildly.)
She grins openly at VV's comment, but looks to those around her as she explains. "I do know the magic behind such a spell, but I do not have it in my possession," she gestures to her spellbook, which coincidently looks more like an architectural notebook than something an arcanist would possess.
Pelipe's words elicit a wan smile from the dryad.
Tiressia provides directions to her sister's tree, describing natural landmarks such as a chestnut tree split by lightning and a boulder shaped like a squirrel as waypoints.
"This is an unusual chill," the dryad says, hugging herself reflexively. "This is the time when the land usually warms and thaws into spring. It's unfortunate that the sky has seen fit to give us at least one last snowfall."
Katrine listens intently as Tiressia describes their route, committing the landmarks to memory. She's still new to this area, but with practice she's confident that she can soon learn to navigate Tamlyn and its surroundings.
She walks over to where she left her horse and mule as Ahto calls for the councilors' carriage. "C'mon, you two. Let's go." Rowan, a red dun mare shaggy with her winter coat, whuffs and nuzzles Katrine's chest where her bandolier lies. "Oh, you want a treat, do you? Silly girl." The fond tone belies her words. Katrine retrieves a couple pieces of dried apple, feeding one to Rowan and the other to Dusty the mule. With that, she swings herself into the saddle with fluid ease.
The wan smile from the druid made the youthful Pelipe feel like she accomplished something for them all. As Tiressia describes the route, she can't help think that her words could influence someone. She was truly her granduncle's daughter, not just the daughter of a banker for the mines. In a way, she felt nobler.
"Of course," she submits to Ahto and will return to her horse. After a quick pet of its neck, she takes hold of the saddle and pulls herself up. She looks to Katrine and chuckles at the antics there.
"She has you trained well."
With a little kick she gets going and will ride up near Ahto and Wonky. She seems willing to chat with either of them on the road. Part of her wonders when and if they will get into some rougher paths ahead?
The newly expanded party departs Tiressia's grove and sets out westward, across the Narlmarches.
Melianse produces a map that she borrowed from Wonky to provide a better idea of your route.
"This does not provide as much detail as the maps of the Greenbelt that Wonky produced for Tamlyn. We will be entering regions you have not yet charted," the nixie cautions. "I'd recommend you resist the urge to continue your exploration, since that would slow down our pace significantly."
"Elenthe's tree sits near the headwaters of the Murque River, which pours out of the Hooktongue Slough. Once we cross the swamp and reach the East Sellen River, Wonky tells me that we'll have a decision to make. We can either follow the river south to Mivon and make a crossing there, or make the trickier crossing immediately after leaving the swamp and travel across the open ground on the western banks. I suppose the decision depends on whether you'd prefer to avoid the city of Mivon."
"I'll level with you," the nixie sorceress says, demonstrating some lingo she's picked up from interacting with citizens of Tamlyn, "You're the first mortals I've ever come to trust. I've only ever heard cautionary tales about the men from Brevoy or the River Kingdoms. Thus, I just assume this Mivon is as full of danger and the dangerous as any other land of men."
"Mivon, eh?" Katrine frowns slightly, trying to remember what she's heard about Mivon.
"I consider myself blessed to have met you, Melianse. I hope in time, you can grow quite fond of us mortals, and not judge us too harshly for our follies...goodness knows we have many flaws!" she offers in a tone as if to point out that she is chief among those with these faults, also, in good humor.
Pelipe recalls her studies. While not particularly familiar with local culture or traditions (having changed so much in past ages), she does have some insight into the various locations in and around the Stolen Lands.
She pulls up her book from her hip and opens it to quickly gather the thoughts that are already streaming through her head.
"M'lord, if I may?"
She will begin to list out various notes of her expertise. While Ahto will see her hold the book, very little is referenced in it that is not first pulled from her brilliant mind first. She then refers to the notes she's made as if to confirm their truth.
As he can now see her spellbook, it is not just notes of spells, but massive amounts of information, drawings, and designs as well on the pages.
Pelipe is a bit of a nerd, so if Ahto ever indicates he is done listening, she'll slow to a stop. If he is interested, she will tell him -everything- like a gushing spring of neverending waters. Despite her highly intellectual connections of information, she does not ramble. Her words are concise and accurate, clear and educational always.
For the benefit of the newcomers, VV says, “Winning o’er the fey was instant with Tyg the grig, but it took a few moons in Melianse’s case.” With a fox-like grin, she adds, “Not that I’m complaining. I rather enjoyed our meeting in the river that got ye to admit I’d earned yer trust.
“Most ‘mortals’ would’ve scoffed at me method.” The Vixen just flat out says what she’d done: “When I first met the littlest o’ the fey, I clothed ’em. Not because I found their nakedness indecent or anything judgy. Tyg dove into me bag and loved the feel of me…” Don’t say lingerie. “…materials. So I made her a backless top, and li’l skirts for the sprites. They and a pooka formed a band and joined our Crystalhue performance.
“But after that event, I decided to meet Melianse, bared naturally as the fey were when we first met. I’ll admit—though I assume ye figured it out, Melianse, and were simply too polite to say—that I had me mother cast Endure Elements so me body could bear the chill o’ the water. But me ability to handle the current was not magically enhanced in any way. Mom’s spell just ensured I wouldn’t dry off and kill the fun.”
Stop making this about you, the Child says. (Twice. She was ignored the first time.)
“Mivon hasn’t been introduced to the fey as Tamlyn has. And I don’t mean to sound egotistical, but I’ve influence at the capitol to keep the lumberjacks from cutting into fey territory. Me wife and our Marshall Eunomia have shielded the rest of us from several racist complaints if not dozens. In comparison to much o’ humanity, Melianse wasn’t so hard to win o’er. Or more to the point, none o’ her reasons for distrust were ever…”
The Vixen finds herself struggling to get this word out. She doesn’t appear to feel any emotion, but the mask hides quite a bit. Which way do her brows slant as she recalls her late night conversations with her wife about what fey do to human children? (Because they’re fey of course!)* How much salt water is absorbed by the stealthy tears that slip from the corners of the Vixen’s eyes? They never choke her words. The tears are The Child’s, after all. To the Vixen, no mere emotion is ever…
“…hurtful.”
Mivon, centered around the city-state of the same name, is one of the more stable River Kingdoms. It was settled by many of the Aldori swordlords who fled Rostland following the victory of Choral the Conqueror, who forged Brevoy out of the forcibly united Rostland and Issia.
Nine major Aldori houses and twenty-some minor houses fled Rostland to form Mivon. Because the lines of succession among these houses was muddled by their exodus, a struggle for supremacy began not long after Mivon was founded. These houses remain the key powers in Mivon. They are unified in their desire to one day reclaim Rostland, but this goal is stymied by their continual infighting. Aside from these houses, three different local gangs - the Fast Fallen, the River's Edge Cutters, and the Half-Deads - fight for control over the city's low quarter.
Owing to its founding by exiled swordlords, Mivon is famous for its dueling schools and teachers - warriors from as far as Garund travel to Mivon to study under the Mivoni duelists. As a result, Mivon is also famous for its mercenaries. Of course, the Aldori swordlords who remained in Brevoy see the Mivoni Aldori as a lesser branch of the Aldori swordpact. This is compounded by perceptions of their dishonorable retreat from Brevoy. In fact, "coward" and "Brevoy bird" are the gravest insults one can levy at a Mivoni Aldori.
Mivon itself is a meritocracy. The city and surrounding lands are governed by the swordlord Raston Selline, who serves as mayor of the city-state. His right-hand man is a young swordlord named Gaspar Tellick, who is widely rumored to be Selline's eventual successor.
The most prominent religions in Mivon are Abadar, Gorum, and Pharasma.
Geographically, the city of Mivon benefits from sitting at the confluence of two major rivers: the Shrike and the East Sellen. These provide trade links with Restov and New Stetven. Numerous smaller rivers criss-cross the land. Much of the low-lying land is marshy, thus transportation is supported by a number of high stone bridges. These marshlands are rich sources of eels, fish, and peat.
Of its neighbors, Mivon has little contact with the elven exiles to its northeast. While Mivon is not currently at war with Pitax to its northwest, the two River Kingdoms maintain a a long-standing hostility.
Katrine nods in agreement. ”As long as we don’t get in any duels, we should be fine.”
The Vixen is in agreement with the nixie, but she can see the momentum favors going through Mivon.
“Whatever the path, none is without danger. Melianse, whether we’re in the wilderness or a bustling metropolis, I’m as likely to dash in front of a hostile crowd as I am a hungry drake. And if yer forced to defend yerself, I know ye're plenty capable.
“If Mivon’s the way we go—”
“—we travel as a pack.”
"I'd agree," she affirms to Ahto, but part of her wonders at the origins of Mivon and whether their focus primarily is on building a community more than building a community of wealth? They may perceive her worry in her face.
"Now that I'm here, I actually will be glad to go to Mivon. I should write to my parents once there, telling them I've arrived and to send care to the families of those who lost their lives on the way here. I do not doubt that in time, my wanderlust will be provoked though, perhaps even more than you, Katrine. I long to see these lands. I hear they have a great many wonders and beauties untouched; dangerous though they may be. Once I set my mind on something, I want to learn everything about it."
She shrugs a coy way as if embarrassed by this "flaw". She can see what they cannot--how detrimental it has been in the past to her forming relationships because of it.
Pelipe will settle in on her horse's back and press onward if the rest of them are ready. As she travels with them, she still does not touch her violin as she thinks of Antonin's playing.
The hard-packed earth of the forest floor crunches under boot and hoof as you continue westward through the Narlmarches. The snow flurries abate, but the chill yet remains. Though spring is only a month or two away on the calendar, it remains elusive in the world around you.
Between your own wilderness skills and the guidance of Melianse, you find reliable game trails that expedite your travel through the wild, almost primeval forests. You come upon a number of small creeks that do little to impede your path. Over the course of two days, you cross about forty miles of forest.
On the third day, the trees grow more widely spaced, and the diversity of species changes. Rather than oak and chestnut, you see more cypress, spruce, and willows. The soil becomes more yielding beneath your feet, heralding your crossing from the Narlmarches into the Hooktongue Slough.
"Traveling before spring may be a blessing," Melianse quips. "We won't have to endure wretched swarms of mosquitoes. There are many beauties in the natural world, but those worthless bloodsuckers are not one. That's why I cultivate a grove of coachwood trees around my pond: their sap repels those pests."
"Agreed. I have a great deal of respect for nature, but none at all for mosquitoes. Or leeches." Katrine shudders at a particularly disgusting memory. Storm lopes along beside her horse, seemingly unbothered by the winter chill.
“And crows. I’ve a mind to shoot the heartless bastards on sight.”
She doesn't do so well, speaking to how rough it must have been for her on the road before the ranger joined her, but when it comes to cooking, Pelipe makes the most mundane into a delicious meal. Many camp cooks would be envious on how she can command a fire to cook through whatever it is they find so that it's perfectly done.
Both nights, the group will see that after she has cleaned and the night's stars are out, she will kick back and enjoy the smoke of a pipe. This seems to have a calming effect on her body, but it is mostly just mental. For a time before the watch starts, she will losely play some inspirational piece on her violin. Something she herself crafted.
Then, before bed, she will wrap herself in her furs, bedroll, and produce some light to consult her spellbook. There she will begin to prepare a swift girding spell for those with armor so that they may rest unencumbered. They will all eventually find that Pelipe is a sound sleeper. She has the tiniest little snore if you listen close enough. She only ever sleeps on her right and if she rolls onto her left, she quickly finds herself uncomfortable and shifts back. For her turn at watching, she will often sit huddled against a tree in the darkness, hiding.
On the first day's morning, she will tend to herself. This will include a sponge bath with soap and water from what they've collected, and she will shave. It is clear she takes far greater care of her appearance on the road than some do.
As time progresses through the day, a large, fat turkey will present itself and she will hurl a magical missile of blue spiraling energy at it. No matter where it runs in fear, despite its blinding leaping speed, the missile meets its target and kills the bird. That evening, on top of whatever else they've found, she will present the cooked beast to share with all.
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That morning on the third day, Pelipe takes note of the change of geography. She is inclined to agree with Melianse.
"I used to have a fear of leeches, but now I love them. After having seen them used in a medical tent, they are vitally important for wound care. I may collect them if anyone happens to pick them up on our journey. Mosquitos, on the other hand, no such benefit has been found for the wretched things. We would grow lemongrass. It would repel them as well."
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"We have crossed over into the region known as Hooktongue Slough - an odd name, to be sure."
At the discussion regarding mosquitoes, Wonky expresses a rare indication of her belief in the Green Faith.
"There is room for all in the wild," Wonky intones. "Mosquitoes play a vital role in the biome as pollinators and a food source for birds and amphibians. It is a commonly-applied misbelief that mosquitoes serve no purpose other than to harry warm-blooded animals; this is patently untrue. I have no love for the bite of a mosquito, but I wish nothing malevolent against them."
Wonky then goes back to attending to Doo-Dad. She has been spending a lot of extra attention on her smaller dog during this journey.
SUCCESS! (just)
By early afternoon, you come upon a wide, green bog set in a crescent-shaped depression in the ground. The verdant water - thick with moss, algae, and lily pads - is presided over by a single, massive willow tree whose sweeping branches hang down like the vaulting ceiling of a cathedral. Tiny white buds hang upon its drooping boughs like stars in the sky.
A lean figure draped in lengths of moss emerges from the haze that cloaks the bog. The skull of an alligator sits upon their head like a mask and helmet.
"Welcome to my home!" she calls out, raising her arms into the air. "Find peace and comfort, but do not eat the blue mushrooms unless you want to see some wild things!"
"I agree," she thinks concerning what Wonky states about mosquitos. That is what she has found in her studies as well. Her eyes travel up to Ahto as he turns the conversation to the brigands who roam his lands. "How it must be a blight for him. I wonder if he is a compassionate man?"
She ultimately keeps her thoughts to herself, and by the time they head into the chilled swampland, she was prepared mentally for whatever may come. The warning given by the mysterious alligator-clad female piques her interest.
"I might be interested in collecting some of these mushrooms for learning their properties. Could you ask her permission for this, M'Lord?"
Of course, she intends this only for the purest scientific usage.
Katrine dismounts and bows to the moss-clad fey. Huh... alligator skull helmet. Isn't that uncomfortable?
"She's not kidding. Be careful with the blue mushrooms," Melianse whispers in warning to Pelipe and the rest of the party. "Even Falchos won't eat the blue mushrooms anymore."
Meanwhile, the swamp woman reacts to Ahto's greeting...with surprising cheer.
"Oh my, am I ever!" she replies enthusiastically.
The dryad doffs her gator-skull helmet to reveal her face. She skips along the edge of the bog, the hanging willow boughs parting like curtains to let her pass, until she is standing mere inches away from Lord Ahto.
"I am Elenthe, and Elenthe welcomes you to her home, handsome traveler," she giggles, an eager albeit inelegant smile upon her face.
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"Hello!" Wonky spouts up brightly. "I am Wonky Stenolamellaralessa Prong! Junior!" Wonky uses her rarely-mentioned middle name. "These are my canine companions, Sprocket and Doo-dad. It is a pleasure to meet you, Elenthe. We have heard much of you from Tiressia. As a warden of the Green Faith and a scion of the First World, I would be honoured if we could be shown around your home. I would indubitably agree with my colleague Pelipe that exploring ALL aspects of your home would be to our mutual benefit, including, perhaps the hallucinogenic mushrooms of note."
Her tone changes. "My ailing father suffers from the Bleaching, a fate all-too common to my people. If there were a way to infuse his soul with wonder and colour again, well perhaps that would be a trip that I would like to send him on, if you understand my veiled phrase."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Elenthe. I'm Katrine Thalian, a ranger of the Green Faith, and this is my companion Storm." Katrine pats her wolfdog and smiles at the dryad.
Pelipe will wait for Lord Ahto to handle the negotiations, but she appreciates Wonky's introduction and influence for her to receive some of these mushrooms.
However, it becomes abundantly clear that Falchos and Melianse were not exaggerating her eccentricities. Perhaps it is her nature as a swamp-dwelling dryad, or perhaps she simply does not get many visitors, but she lacks certain social graces - even for a fey, who do not normally share the same set of norms and mores as mortals.
"Oh. My. Word! By all the sporecaps on the underside of a dead log, you are so adorable!" Elenthe shouts in response to Wonky's introduction. The willow dryad attempts to scoop up the gnome in her arms, and she is little deterred when the magister's words take a turn for the austere upon describing her father's plight.
However, mention of the Bleaching puzzles Elenthe, who is unfamiliar with the malady. Nevertheless, she expresses a willingness to help friends of her sister's.
"I don't know how they might affect your Pa, but you probably wouldn't need all that many to see some effect. Even I have to limit myself when I have some - no more than five or six at a time."
The willow dryad offers another giggle that broaches upon a full cackle.
Elenthe shows you where these bluecap mushrooms grow in small but wild beds in the shadow of her own tree. They seem to glow with a bit of their own light. She also cautions that they lose their potency not long after being picked, so they do not travel well.
"Five or six at a time?" she grits her teeth in worry for the woman's brain functionality. Clearly, they are looking at an addict--a high-functioning addict.
She will slide off her horse as Elenthe offers to show her to the mushrooms. She produces a vial and will collect a small series of chunks off one, yet leaves it mainly there to continue to grow.
"It is not for ingesting. It is for study. It will likely be rotten before I am able to study it, but it should give some clues to its usage, even if its potency is mostly gone. Are these grown magically?" she asks. If so, it is likely her test results might be skewed.
Pelipe recognizes that these bear a passing similarity to the Yellowcap Mushrooms that were once a popular recreational hallucinogen in Andoran. These Bluecap Mushrooms, however, appear to contain a far more potent psychoactive substance. This may be due to the fact that they were grown in the soil around a dryad's tree, or the tree's magic may only enhance the mushrooms' normal effects.
"Oh, I'm not the gardener that my sister is. These little babies just grow naturally. I don't have to...Oh!"
Elenthe cuts herself off as she looks over towards the Vixen. The dryad throws herself at the fashionista's feet before standing bolt upright, her face inches away from the Vixen's.
"Oo, cute shoes! Where did you find them?"
The Vixen grins. Elenthe is an odd duck, but as far as VV’s concerned, that’s the charm.
“I designed ’em,” she says proudly. “But I had a specialist craft ’em, Edna—a halfling cobbler, would ye believe?”
The Vixen whips out a sketchbook and flips through various stiletto designs, ending on a page with Edna drawn alongside a drawing of herself (as the newcomers first saw her—mask, boots, and qipao which is colored in red pencil). Edna's height in comparison to Addy indicates that, if the drawing is accurate, Edna is about half a foot shorter than Wonky.
“I go by the name Vermillion Vixen, but this new armor I found might prod me to refresh me look. But anyway, Edna’s an amazing cobbler—and tap dancer to boot. Her people normally go barefoot, so she chose a path that’d make her stand out from the rest.
“I see a bit o’ that eccentricity in you, and I love it. It’s truly a pleasure to finally meet ye, Elenthe. Feel free to call me the Vixen or call me Addison.”
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Wonky studies the blue mushrooms, trying to decide how to preserve their potency best. She ultimately decides upon digging up a large chunk of sodden turf where they are growing in order to harvest them intact. She looks at the others.
"Are we planning on making camp here this evening?" Wonky asks. "I would suggest that as a workable arrangement, if our presence would not be an impingement upon the liberties of our host."
Once confirmed - or even as a means to confirm it - Wonky unceremoniously plucks and ingests one of the blue mushrooms.
"Ingestion is part of the study, Pelipe," she states plainly at the wide-eyed look from the arcanist.