"Cults of Gyronna are the bane of civilized society," Althea scoffs.
"These so-called River Kingdoms lack the organization and legal systems to properly root out and eliminate such threats. All the more reason why places like the Stolen Lands need to be properly tamed: fewer places for such wretches to fester and poison everything around them."
|
"Chaos and Anarchy are concepts that otherwise good and moral people can be duped into espousing, not realizing the real harm they cause," Ahto replies. "Wishing to be left alone to live as one sees fit may seem fine, as long as one doesn't look to closely as the ramifications. Doubtless these cultists seek to exploit resentment in the very people who may feel justified in their anger at being put-upon with laws and regulations. You are correct that we should be wary of this infection, and root it out as soon as possible, however, we will not resort to the same witch-hunting tactics applied by the people of Glowerhaven against the Strouds. We will investigate, and if there is evidence of wrongdoing, make arrests and conduct interrogations. The truth will be known before sentence is passed. I will be certain that any life ended was out of necessity for the greater good, and not for mere public spectacle or political advantage."
You spend the rest of the daylight hours plunging south and west into the Embreth Forest. As you make the trek, you can plainly see the tracks left by the Stroud boys blundering on their way, following their wicked mothers. The uprooted shrubs and snapped branches make it clear that they are large boys with wide, awkward gaits. Thankfully, their path branches off northward and does not continue to parallel yours.
When you finally stop to make camp for the night, Wonky estimates that it will only be another eight miles or so until Uringen - so you will likely reach your destination before noon on the following day.
|
Wonky wonders aloud around the campfire that night.
"Just think, Sprocket, Doo-dad...all of you! We will likely arrive at that city both in and out of this space and time - Uringen - tomorrow after our mid-day meal! Our long-awaited end to our journey, and - not to put too fine a point on it - my best hypothesis as to a locale for a cure to the Bleaching." Wonky continues with unabashed emotion.
"My poor father has been wasting away this past decade due to that fell disease. He is still a strong and formidable mind but it grieves me so to see him locked away within a colourless shell of his former vibrant self." Wonky dabs her suddenly-moist eyes on the edge of her trail coat, then inclines her head to Althea's former travelling partner. "Of course, I mean no offence by suggesting that the bleaching state is worse than death, but I do believe it to be worse than death."
Wonky continues on, joy now usurping the sheepishness (itself usurping the sudden deep sorrow) in her eyes. "In the company of this esteemed party, I am confident that any such information that we can glean from the dual-nature of this city will be ours soon enough!"
The daylight settles in and gives way to the darkness to spread over the land. As they dismount to set up camp, Pelipe will start by setting out her bedroll and listening to Wonky.
"Imagine a disease so horrible it systematically destroyed all of us humans, with no hope of a cure...I can't begin to imagine how she feels."
Pelipe bites her lips with anticipation and smiles to Wonky.
"I'm sure it will be, Wonky. I have every faith. I will have to put on my thinking cap tomorrow, no doubt. Let us make sure we eat well tonight, hmm?"
While someone else focuses on getting wood for the fire to combat the cold of fading winter and the chill of night, Pelipe produces a fishing pole and will go to the nearby source of freshwater they stopped by to see if there is any fishing to be had for dinner. The more she catches, the more they can eat. No doubt the dogs would appreciate fresh meat as well, not that they are picky.
Once back, she will ask Wonky, "Can you tell me a bit more about your father? You seem very skilled. Was he your trainer?"
Once the slender mage returns with a haul of fresh fish, she will work to cook them up over the fire by dressing them with herbs of pepper, rosemary, and salt, and then roasting them on a makeshift grill.
|
|
"Father Prong?" Wonky muses softly at Pelipe's gentle query. "His tinker carts have been traipsing about Ustalav and Razmir for the better part of a century. He has third generation customers! The man is a living legend." The awe in the gnome's clear voice is betrayed by the sorrowful tears in her eyes.
"And at one point in the distant past, he could regale you for hours with stories of his encounters with vampires and cultists of the Masked God and gynosphinxes and venture-captains of the Pathfinder Society, but alas, no more."
Wonky squares her shoulders to Pelipe. "Wonky Prong, Sr did not train me, but he did parent me. I absorbed all that I could from the indirect tutelage from both of my parents. I received my formal training through the University of Lepidstadt and the office of Professor Stylus Ennergazon, head of my department. I am on sabbatical from my academic post, in fact. The research on flora and fauna influenced by First World magic has distinct gaps, and Professor Ennergazon felt that the River Kingdoms would be a keen crucible for some field research. Department funds were scarce and I needed to fund my own avenues of academic endeavour. The professor also intuited my personal interests in connecting the Bleaching to the First World in a more direct pathological fashion than has been previously suggested, and so my academic leave is rather open-ended so as to allow for my scientific methods to fully manifest. I must say that my research has taken a backseat to the needs of the nascent kingdom of Tamlyn, but our approach to Uringen has excited me in a way that I have not experienced since, well..."
Wonky pauses for an inordinate amount of time.
"I believe I have not been this excited since the battle with the wyvern some months ago."
Wonky's response is one that delights her and yet pricks a hint of sadness in her face. There are downsides to being a noble. Most commoners could tell you the name of the bar, soap shop, or weapon maker nearest to them, even such traveling ones. They can tell you their names and some of their life stories. Pelipe has no connection to such people; only her maids and to some degree their head gardener. It makes her saddened that after such a legacy she could not know such a gnome or her family.
With her regaling about the cultists of the Masked God and gynosphinxes, Pelipe comments briefly, "He sounds like a marvelous gnome. I wish I could have heard such glorious tales. On the road, you must take up this torch and tell me some of them."
Pelipe will likewise shift in her saddle for the gnome, almost lazing in it while holding onto the horn of the saddle, like a child settling in for storytime. Her attentive eyes blink at the qualifications of the gnome and what led them all to this point.
"I can understand the difference between reading theory in a book and reliving someone else's experiences in your mind compared to going out and touching the world. What I can't wrap my head around is how overwhelming it must be to potentially research something that has been concealed from the world since...whenever the Bleaching truly started."
She sits back up in her saddle and then states adamantly, "In the name of Abadar, I will say prayers this night for your father and the mighty goodness of community this would bring to Tamlyn. Imagine, a cure. Every gnome in the world would come to live within your borders without hesitation."
From a community standpoint, which those who worship Abadar frequently focus on, this is like a dream come true.
"Imagine all the lives that can be saved...," she marvels.
You press on through the Embeth Forest, which rests in a low-lying area dotted with stagnant marshes and rising knolls. Though you are removed from the larger tributaries of the Sellen River, you find that several small creeks weave through the forest.
As midday approaches, a nagging worry creeps into your minds as you have yet to find hints that you are near the enigmatic town.
"Many who seek Uringen find that it never seems to be where it's supposed to be," Vark suddenly speaks up after spending almost an entire day and night in silence. "Even the part of the town that remains anchored to reality seems to make itself difficult to find.
"The Embeth Travelers, a group of nomads who seem to guard the town, are often sought out as guides."
She recalls her education in various schoolings to help them locate the town.
"I've read that similar experiences with fey camps can be difficult to find...I just can't seem to recall any details that would help us in this instance."
Her eyes scan over Wonky, hoping that her own vast intellect can recall such details.
"How could you forget such details? Particularly when they are of such great importance..."
Wonky leads the way with the confidence and accuracy of any local guide. She follows the growth of the moss and cypress trees that are almost synonymous with the unusual town. You press forward, through almost invisible trails through the underbrush, up drunkenly tilting rises in the land, until finally you crest a ridge and find a hidden valley sweeping before you, lush and green.
Uringen sits, cradled at the bottom of the valley.
Sharply pitched roofs top the stone and timber buildings of the town. These roofs pierce through the haze that lingers close to the streets, formed from the colorful smoke that pours out from dozens of chimneys across the town. Uringen is arrayed along four main thoroughfares, laid out like the arms of a compass rose - one missing its heart.
Perhaps the most curious aspect of the town is the bare, empty field sitting at the very center of the town. This vacant space occupies fully the central third of Uringen. A perimeter of ropes, strung along stakes driven into the ground, encircles the forsaken area. Even from afar, you can see that none of the residents, clad in clothes of stark black and white, dare go near this perimeter.
The Vixen is impressed. Clearly very impressed.
“Color coordination! A whole town strictly adhering to basic black and virgin white. I… I may need a moment. There’s something in me eye.”
After the Vixen adjusts her mask because.. reasons, she asks a local, “Love the fashion statement. There’s meaning behind the way ye dress. I’d like to know.
“Oh, manners, right. Vermilion Vixen’s the name. I also wear strictly black and white, and also vermilion. There’s a symbolism. I want to know yers. I think it’s important, relevant…”
"Where is this girl leading us. I am seeing no signs. Is she just pulling our leg, or is she really on to something?" Pelipe thinks to herself as they wandering and wind through nature and on and off again with trails. Somehow, she is not surprised when the trees peel away and there is a hidden valley before them. "I should have not doubted her resolve."
Pelipe crosses her eyes about her waist at what she's seeing from a distance.
"It's almost like one big ritual..." she comments and then considers the arcane or religious purpose of such behavior.
The group rides down the slopes and into the village. Before entering, Pelipe will cast a detect magic spell to ensure she sees what is happening behind the scenes here.
|
|
Wonky attempts to warn the members of her team with what she knows about the ways of Uringen.
Unfortunately, Wonky's knowledge ABOUT the town is far surpassed with her knowledge about travel TO the town.
"We are finally arrived," she breathes, absently scratching at Doo-dad's ears before hastening her descent on the trail into town.
”So this is the famous Uringen.” While Katrine has heard of the city, she has no idea which of the stories, if any, are true. The ranger follows Wonky, looking around with obvious interest. Storm trots along beside her horse, ignoring the townsfolk and their animals.
When Vixen approaches the local, he reacts with a mix of irritation and disgust.
"Around here, folks like to keep to themselves," he grumpily mutters before continuing on his way.
As you walk along the street, you observe more than one small shop offering potions, alchemical mixtures, and other curatives. This is likely the source of the colorful smoke pouring out of the chimneys around town.
You also spot a simple temple sitting almost inconspicuously among the other buildings. Despite the almost bare facade, you recognize some iconography related to Erastil.
As you walk along, your magically attuned eyes don't pick up anything too unusual. Through the windows of some of the potion shops, you can see bottles that glow with magical power. However, occasionally you see a colorful mote of magical light hovering just at the corner of your eye, but when you turn to get a better look, it seems to dart away and vanish.
First of all, it is abundantly obvious that the residents of the static portion of Uringen avoid the central field because that is the location of the "unstuck" portion of the town, and they are wary of being caught in its fluctuations.
Secondly, while the majority of the population appears to be human, you notice a significant proportion of half-elves walking the streets, as well. You conclude this is evidence that the town is more tolerant of those who might otherwise be considered outcasts.
Lastly, you notice that alchemy and potion making appear to be common cottage industries in this town. This is likely the source of the colorful smoke rolling out from numerous chimneys.
When the party approaches the roped off field at the center of town, Pelipe recoils and shields her face. Her eyes, enchanted with the ability to detect magic, have encountered the equivalent of looking into the sun here at the otherwise empty heart of Uringen. She could briefly see a column of light and smoke rising from the field, as though the edges of the field were marked by the brightly shining walls of a tower that only she could see.
"Why are some people so rude?" she thinks to her with a natural disgust of anyone who treats strangers the way the man does to Vixen.
"Oh...Wonky...I can see...what looks like little motes of light, but when I focus on them, they skitter away. They are magical though...and I'm not seeing things. Not to be ominous, but something doesn't like being viewed magically here. Some kind of creature or force I'd wager."
Upon seeing the shop with potions she seems as though she just observed an old friend.
"Now that's a place I would love to stop in...if we have time," she stipulates when thinking of Wonky's plight, trying not to sound too enthusiastic for her sake.
They continue on and as she had suspected, the center field was full of magic. Quickly she covers her sight and looks to Ahto and VV.
"The square is ... so magical it is like staring at the sun. I can't even focus on it...I thought I could see a column of light...and smoke rising from the field's edge...like a smoky wall of a fortress. Then I had to look away."
Even being near it is too much for her and she closes her eyes for a good bit until the feeling passes.
|
|
"If we are going to act in a diplomatic capacity, protocol demands we present ourselves to the ruling body of the town as soon as possible. Assuming things go well, we should have ample time to explore and see the sights," Ahto says.
He looks for some indication of a seat of power, such as a fortified or official-looking structure, as well as any signage that might confirm it as such.
Across the street from a tap house with a sign proclaiming it to be the Oaken Knot Tavern, Ahto espies a well-kept, official-looking two-story townhouse. There is no signage to be seen, but he suspects it to be the home or offices of the town mayor.
"Yes, yes. I've heard that Uringen has two mayors," Vark speaks up suddenly. "One for the static portion, and one for the...unstuck portion."
"This looks like the sort of place where people go when they want to disappear," Althea sneers as she looks around the street and the starkly dressed citizens. "Outlaws, heretics, debtors, vagabonds. Be wary of placing trust with any of these Uringen folk."
“They ain’t exactly conversational anyway.”
Considering Ahto and Vark’s words, “Maybe if we talk to a mayor or two then…”
|
|
Wonky shares what she knows.
Wonky chuckles softly at Pelipe. "That is the gateway to the 'unstuck' portion of Uringen, squarely in the primal realm of the First World. It calls to me - it does, really. As do all of these alchemical shoppes....shall we shop?"
She then notices Ahto's eyebrows.
"Ah yes, diplomatic envoys. The time for shopping will present itself, to be sure. After you, dear Ahto."
Wonky keeps craning her neck towards the centre of town as the party walks through town.
"This looks like the sort of place where people go when they want to disappear," Althea sneers as she looks around the street and the starkly dressed citizens. "Outlaws, heretics, debtors, vagabonds. Be wary of placing trust with any of these Uringen folk."
Katrine chuckles at Althea's words. "So, like most of the River Kingdoms then. I feel more at home already." She follows Ahto on her horse, not bothering to hide her curiosity at the magical town.
“But different because they’re like the chiaroscurists of the fashion world!”
The Vixen normally hides her emotions well, but she’s clearly feeling a little dejected.
"Uh... I'm not really sure what it means though. Someone care to explain it for the country girl?"
“A chiaroscurist’s an artist whose work consists heavily o’ light and shadow—I can show ye plenty of examples in me sketch book. It is a fun word, and nicer than the word I didn’t say.” VV narrows her eyes at the man who snubbed her.
Katrine nods, thankful for the explanation. "Oh, I've seen that kind of art before. I just never knew there was a name for it."
Pelipe chuckles a little at her companions and moves up next to Ahto and slightly behind in order to keep attention focused upon him. If he looks her way at all, even briefly, she'll faintly smile and look up at the door in expectation of someone hopefully coming to answer it. Her ears strain to hear the early signs of footfalls on the interior. In the meantime, her eyes take in the structure itself in brief as one who deeply appreciates architecture. In her mind races the possibilities of beautification. This is mingled in with her other thoughts on the gateway to the 'unstuck' portion of Uringen.
Shortly after Ahto knocks upon the door, it opens with a slow creek. A tall, gaunt, hatchet-faced man in the sharply creased clothes of a footman stands there, looking down his broad, pointed nose at you.
"Hmm? What business bring you to Mayor Mieren's home?" he asks in a haughty drawl.
"Hmmm," the footman mulls the introduction with little interest. "I will see if Mayor Mieren has time today, or this week. Why don't you go...wait in the tavern across the street."
You suspect this servant is giving you the brush off.
“Don’t be a dick.”
The Vixen’s backs Ahto’s play.
"Please? Be kind, most noble sir." Pelipe flashes a smile to ease the intimidation of VV, the sort of good guard-bad guard routine that is often used to sway people over to giving in. By elevating the man's likely status from footman to noble footman, she hopes he listens well.
This kindness may make him look even more favorably upon the mage. Once he is gone, she will pull out her spellbook and begin researching a charm person spell.
"I feel I may need this..." she thinks to herself as she dutifully reads while the footman takes his time "finding" the mayor.
My, Ahto and the Vixen can both be intimidating when they feel like it. Katrine waits at the back of the group with her canine companion, idly scratching his ears.
The footman's eyes widen, revealing a rift in his haughty countenance as Ahto and Vixen make their...persuasive case. He withdraws to speak with his master, giving Pelipe time to prepare without being noticed.
You are only left waiting perhaps five minutes or so before the footman returns, having composed himself slightly. He informs you that his master will see you now, and he escorts you into a study where you find the mayor, apparently busying himself constructing a ship in a bottle.
As they are heading in and the footman behind them still waiting until everyone enters, she shuffles very close to Ahto, whispering to him, "I am not sure if it is a crime or not to charm an official here, but if he's as big of a pig as I expect him to be, just give me a nod and I'll...you know..." The mason wriggles her fingers as if she would cast a spell, then winks to the much larger man with a playful grin showing she's just kidding, but there is a glint of truth in her eyes. She is half serious at best. In reality, she would never want to cast such a thing on someone and take away their will from them unless it may save him from getting beheaded by Ahto for being so unrighteous it warrants his death. If he's determined to be evil, she doesn't mind improving his attitude a little bit.
The mayor sets down his small, delicate tools then turns around sharply in his chair and glowers in your direction.
"Yes? What do you want?" he barks.
|
|
"I am Ahto, High Councilor of the nascent country of Tamlyn. I and my fellow Councilors have come to greet our neighbor, and discuss matters of diplomacy and commerce. Was I mistaken to presume the Mayor of Uringen has a vested interest in securing relations of commercial and strategic value with adjacent lands?"
Mayor Mieren stifles his curtness once he realizes that potential money is on the table. He has never heard of Tamlyn, but if they offer a chance for commerce, then he is willing to behave himself.
"No mistake has been made. You are quite correct," the mayor says, his mutton-chop facial hair shifting alongside his newly smiling face. "My manservant failed to mention your...standing. I apologize for his boorishness."
Mieren pushes himself up, struggling against a weak back and knees.
"Allow me to offer an overdue welcome to Uringen, the hidden gem of the Embeth," he says, with outstretched arms. "Please tell me about your land."
Katrine bows silently to the mayor, but refrains from speaking. In diplomatic situations like this, she figures her job is to keep her mouth shut and watch out for trouble.
|
|
"Tamlyn is the result of a charter issued by the Lords of Restov to settle an area of the are known colloquially as the Stolen Lands. We began by ridding the area of brigands and dangerous creatures. We then began the process of bringing together likeminded inhabitants and ambitious immigrants to form the body of our citizenry. Our capital city of Horace is taking shape along the northern edge of the Tuskwater. We have crops, livestock, lumber, and trade goods moving into and out of our borders with regularity. We are a young nation, but with the blessings of Abadar and the other gods of law and civilization, we shall continue grow and prosper."
|
|
Wonky takes her opportunity.
"Greetings, Mayor Mieren. I am Wonky Prong, Jr, Magister of Tamlyn and Chief Academician at the Grand Library of Horace. I am very pleased to be welcomed to your renowned city. Our nascent country shares a unique quality with Uringen - we have a collegial and intertwined relationship with the citizens of the First World! In Tamlyn, fey residents are afforded equal and representative rights to the freedoms established within our budding civilisation. We stand to learn much from the association of Uringen with the First World, hence your city representing the first official diplomatic envoy journey that our council has undertaken!"
Wonky bounces lightly on the balls of her feet with momentum.
"We can share!" She then forcefully closes her mouth in order to allow others from the council a chance to speak.