Rourke's fire soon bathes your little camp in a pleasant warmth, and a feeling of surprising safety washes over you - and one of tiredness. None of you had quite realised just how exhausted you were, and if you let it, sleep will come quickly.
Bora yawns and stretches as the night falls. She was surprised to find herself so tired so suddenly.
"I've been out of the lab too long. Used to be I could keep going until the sun rose."
She stretches again, then settles down near the fire. "I'll take first watch! I promise, if everything goes well, all of you will wake up with the same number of limbs as you went to sleep with! And I give it even odds they'll even be the same type!"
She then grinned. "Kidding!"
Then, she settles to watch, keeping herself awake by pondering whether she could make a bomb that would instantly create a camp fire... without burning a forest down, of course.
Bora, your shift on watch passes without incident. You hear the occasional call from one night creature or another, but nothing that comes close enough to the camp to be considered a threat.
You do discover that Rourke snores. Unfortunately.
Naneko, your watch is interrupted after less than an hour. You don't know quit what has roused you but you feel a prickling sensation on the back of your neck. The shadows around the stones cast by the firelight seem to move strangely, flickering awkward and disjointed...
... but nothing appears to menace you. The feeling of oddness does not leave, but the sounds of the forest remain the same and your sleeping companions do not stir.
Naneko, the presence flees n the face of your barely-subdued rage, the shadows returning to normal.
The rest of the night, no matter who is watching, passes without incident. As dawn's light filters down through the forest canopy, Rourke awakes with a snort and crawls out through the flap of his tent, still fully dressed and weighed down by the backpack. He builds up the embers of the fire and produces a string of small onions and some kind of cured meat, roasting them on a spit above the fire.
The smell that wafts over the camp isn't the most appetizing, but it beats going hungry.
Roland woke to the smell of something being cooked, though he wasn't sure there was a point to asking Rourke what that something was. Everything the group had seen since being brought to this place had been... different... and Roland didn't see any reason that this particular meal would be otherwise. He had been woken by Naneko for his shift and depsite her encounter, he had neither seen nor heard anything that would indicate the presence of another.
After Roland had rolled up his bedroll and secured it to his pack, he walked over to the fire, ready to push out the last of the night's cold from his body and get on with their day. He figured he had at least a short amount of time before the rest of the travellers awoke, and took the opportunity to go over his gear, double checking his rations, pack straps, ammunition count, and - after removing the cartridge that he had loaded the previous day - performing a functions check on his musket. Once satisfied, he pulled out a small breakfast from his rations and turned to Rourke, finally placing something that had been nagging at the back of his mind since they had run into the man and taking the opportunity while they were the only ones awake, "Rourke? If you don't mind me asking, why do you never take off your pack? Even while we've been camped out, I haven't seen it leave your shoulders. I can understand being possessive, even untrusting of a group of strangers, but when it's all said and done, we're not in the business of making enemies. Nobody here would be stupid enough to try and steal from you, if that's what you're worried about. Even more so since it's unlikely that any of us could hide from you at all in this place anyway."
Rourke pauses as he turns the spit, not looking directly at you. His shoulders are tense under the straps of his pack, his free hand clenching reflexively. You've seen that tension before - the tension of a man with a story to tell, but who doesn't know how to begin.
Roland took a deep, quiet breath, unsure whether he should speak again or let Rourke start - or not - on his own. This could be the one and only time to get this information out of him, and if he's this tense over it, it's probable that he's told very few people, if any. If nothing else, it's probably something that he needs to get off of his chest. And it might lead to him being more forthcoming with other knowledge. Maybe I can help him along... Making up his mind after only a few moments of contemplation, Roland set his food down and began quietly, "When I was younger, my brother and I, along with our friends, were generally found doing what boys do, rough-housing, pretend sword fighting with sticks, and generally causing some form of meyhem wherever we went. One particular day in the middle of summer, one that I will never forget, we were out at a nearby stream enjoying the weather, splashing each other, having fun."
Roland hesitated, gathering himself and taking a breath before continuing. "We were told not to go out that day. We had gotten word that some Inquisitors had heard rumors saying that one of the families in our small town had been practicing witchcraft and would be arriving that day or the next to investigate. Complete horse s%!#, but those guys aren't known for looking at the details before making their judgements.
At this point, Roland began speaking more quickly, wanting to get the story out before he lost his nerve to tell it, but not wanting to look at Rourke as he spoke, instead choosing to stare into the fire. "They came first towards where we were playing, as we were between them and the town. When they stopped before us, my friends and brother ran. For some reason I was rooted to the spot. They turned to me and said 'Who amongst your town is the one practicing witchcraft?' I was young, and the Inquisitors were extremely frightening; I answered the question. And then we ran to our homes. I told my friends that they had told me to run home with the rest of them and to not get in their way again. I didn't tell them what really happened.
"Before nightfall, the Inquisitors had slaughtered the family, burned the house, and made a proclomation to the rest of us that 'if the rumors persisted, they'd return. Again and again until the rumors stopped. Witchcraft was not tolerated.' Three people were dead because of me, one of them a little girl. Her name was Angela. I could push the blame onto someone else, whoever started those damned rumors, the inquisitors themselves for not actually investigating anything, but I was the one that gave them the name.
"The only way I ever really got over it was that I confided in my brother. Between he and I, we use that day as a reminder to do our diligence when assigning bounties. We will never take one or assign one without being absolutely certain of the bounty's guilt. We use that day and those inquisitors as our example of exactly what we were NOT to become. But I'm getting off topic here. We've all got a story to tell and I promise you, that whatever guilt you're carrying, whatever it is that you're ashamed of, you don't have to hide it. Not from me, anyway. Fearing or hating yourself or those around you, for any reason, will only lead to suffering." Roland finally looked away from the fire and towards Rourke, unsure of what to expect.
Rourke sits quietly for a while, poking at the fire with a stick. Hes obviously thinking hard.
Finally, as the others rouse themselves, he speaks quietly.
Qhen we take a break at high-sun I will hunt for food. Join me then, and I promise to be as... forthcoming as i can.
The man stands awkwardly and heads back to his tent, not waiting for an answer.
Rourke sits quietly for a while, poking at the fire with a stick. Hes obviously thinking hard.
Finally, as the others rouse themselves, he speaks.
Qhen we take a break at high-sun I will hunt for food. Join me then, and I promise to be as... forthcoming as i can.
The man stands awkwardly and heads back to his tent, not waiting for an answer.
Bora yawns as she gets up, not entirely aware of what happened. She does, however, watch the pair as Rourke heads back to his tent, trying to get an idea of what happened.
Once she either has an idea, or fails, she settles, munching on trail rations she had with her. Then, she looks to Roland and waves for him to approach.
"I've got an idea for our next watch, if you're interested. Might help, but I'll need your help."
It was mostly true; she also wanted to talk to him about something else.
Roland picked up the meal he had set down while he was talking with Rourke and frowned at himself before continuing to eat. Now I'm really curious. Roland shrugged and, catching Bora out of the corner of his eye motioning for him to join her, walked over and took a seat next to her. "What did you have in mind?"
Bora at first spoke low, trying to keep others from hearing.
"I think we should find some excuse to separate from our guide once we're close to town. Him accompanying us to the town itself might put him in danger."
As she speaks, she draws a map on the ground. A very bad map. It looks like it was produced by a little child. One who was half asleep. After spinning in circles for hours. Then she speaks louder.
"One problem I see is that the fire may make it capable for someone to approach us... if you have enough gunpowder, I may be able to use my alchemy skills to rig a bomb from them. We could then use those bombs and trip wires to set up a defense around the camp. The explosions would act both as warnings for us and deterrents for any trying to cause trouble."
Roland nodded at Bora's first suggestion. It was something that he himself had given some thought to and was one of the reasons, Roland suspected, that Rourke wouldn't accompany them into the town. "I think you might be right. I'll take a look at my stock and see what I can spare and I'll want to double check with Rourke once we stop at mid-day to find out if there will be a way for me to replenish my stock once we get to town, but I don't see a problem with either."
Bora smiled, and then moved on to the next topic.
"If not, all we need is raw supplies for it. Hopefully, most towns will have the raw supplies. Producing our own may be a bit dangerous, so we should test the first batch before using it. But it may be our only option if the town is small enough."
You hear a long, low sound resonating from the direction of the distant mountains, something between the howl of a wolf and the horn of a huntsman. It is faint by the time it reaches you, sounding to have issued from a good distance away - miles, possibly.
Roland nodded at Amy and replied "I hear it too." He walked over to Rourke's tent with only a small bit of worry. If it were really important he'd probably have already come out of the tent, but better safe than sorry."Rourke, what was that? Anything we need to be worried about?"
Rourke pushes his head out of the tent, looking around the camp and then pausing as the sound comes again, listening to the echoes.
'Worried? No. But cautious. We'll have to change our route.'
He retreats back into the tent, and you can hear the sounds of him packing through the thin canvas as he continues.
'The horn is the sound of the Roving Hunt, a call of warning and challenge in equal measure. And I have no intention of meeting her challenge, so I'm going to take it as a warning. We'll cut further to the south, away from the slopes - there's a gorge a few miles away that we could head to, that would get us out from under the trees, away from her territory. She may not even be heading this way, but just to be on the safe side...'
Taking the information at face value for the moment, Roland began barking orders immediately, "Alright. Bora, Amy, wake up anyone that isn't and let's get packed up quick-like. Rourke, details, please. What is the Hunt, who is "her", what does her challenge consist of, and why do we need to stay away? Scratch that, the first three should cover the last." Roland followed his own advice, picking up his pack, checking his musket to ensure that it was still loaded and that the rest of his gear was in good condition.
Bora cursed as soon as she heard the noise. She immediately stood and headed to her sleeping area, to grab her bag and begin mixing elixirs. Two of Ant Haul and, after a moment of thought, one of Cure Light Wounds.
At hearing it's a call of challenge, she curses even more. "Rourke, does she raid caravans?"
She's still mixing the elixirs when she hears that bit about packing up. "Hold on... I'm making certain I don't slow us down."
As soon as she's done, she walks over and rattles each tent and sleeping bag to wake up the occupant, then packs her own stuff, downs an elixir of ant haul, and pulls her backpack on. She would have used explosions to wake people up, but didn't want to draw the attention of whoever it was that had that horn... explosions tended to be hard to miss, after all.
She also makes certain to keep the chemicals for a bomb close at hand.
"Alright. I'm ready."
Gavin woke last among the group. For some reason he was even more tired than he had thought. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn't traveled as much since leaving the army, or perhaps he was just getting old. Either way, he planned on remedying it the next night.
He awoke and ate a bit of food that was offered by Rourke, thanking him graciously. Then he pulled tobacco from his bag and rolled himself a cigarette, using an ember from the fire to light it to save his tindertwigs. He sat there smoking for a bit, just taking in the wilderness and the soft chatting between the rest of the party. If there was anything he missed the most about the outside world, it was waking up with a camp of compatriots and just taking in the world around him before getting moving.
He turned his head towards the sound of the howl and frowned as Rourke warned them about the beast. I guess there's danger no matter where you live. he thought with displeasure. As the others questioned their guide, Gavin finished up getting ready. He drew his sword and made sure it was clean, checked his gear in his bag, and straightened his tricorn hat. Once he was satisfied, he looked to Rourke and said, "Ready."
Rourke dismantle and collapses his tent with practiced efficiency as he explains what he can, readying himself to move.
'The hunt is... well, she's a little hard to explain. I could throw you a spiel about her being as old as the forests and greatly respected, and the like, but I think that can wait for another time. What is probably more pertinent now is that yes, she would certainly attack a caravan if it crossed her path, though not to raid it. She thrills in the chase and the capture - anything that can run from an arrow is fair game to her, if she finds it; a stag, a rabbit, a human or anything in between. The horn lets people know that she's on the move, so that those who don't wish to take part in her... game, I suppose... can head in the opposite direction sharpish. She's considerate like that, I suppose, but that doesn't make her any less dangerous.'
The man tightens the straps of his pack and looks over the campsite, stamping out the remains of the fire but not bothering to hide any signs that you were there.
'Shall we go? I'm not too keen to be prey today...'
"Indeed not." Roland glanced around at his companions and their campsite, ensuring that nothing important was left behind. Roland did not try to argue with Rourke over leaving the place as obviously used; the embers would tip off any interested parties that it was recently used and they would be on our trail anyway. Better to leave quickly and put more distance between us and the campsite before it is found. "How far is it until we're beyond the hunt's grounds?"
'An hour of fast travel, maybe two if you're slow.'
The sound of the horn comes again, still far away but noticeably more audible than last time.
'Yes she's heading this way. We move - now.'
Bora cursed, but was ready. "Okay, let's move. I don't want to wait around for her to get here."
She then looks to Roland. "Now we know why the caravans are so heavily guarded."
, Rourke flashes you a smile over his shoulder as you set off.
'Well, yes... she is one of the reasons...'
Roland took his place near the back of the group as they set off and followed Rourke through the woods. He raised his voice enough to make sure that Naneko could hear him over the noise generated by their movements but the cadence of his voice was carefully stilted to keep the rhythm of his breathing flowing naturally for their increased pace. "Normally I'd agree with you, Naneko, but we've been in this place for a very short while now, seen several things that we were almost completely unfamiliar with, and have absolutely no idea where we are except a very large, general idea. I'm more than willing to fight, but I prefer to know what I'm up against."
"One of" the reasons, eh Rourke?
Bora grinned at the words he said. One of the reasons, huh? I bet you know a lot about another.
She then glances to Naneko as she follows the group out, nodding to what Roland says.
"They know the lay of the land. We do not. It's better to find out more about them before we engage."
She then looked around, trying to figure out if a gorge would actually exist in this area.
You move through the forest at a good clip, Rourke going out of his way to find a path easy to both follow and traverse. He speaks to you as you move, possibly to keep his mind off of the reason for your motion - his voice betrays a little more fear than his decisive movements let on.
'Young lady,' he addresses this to Naneko, 'I admire both your spirit and optimism, but have to take issue with your reason. To flee a potential enemy that I know, for certain, outclasses us, is not cowardice - it is wisdom. A base kind of wisdom, I'll admit, but I can tell you that I'd take 'run and live to fight another day' over 'become unnaturally ventilated by arrows' any day of the week. Any day of the year, for that matter. Perhaps we could move a little faster, too?'
The horn sounds again and again as you move, sometimes worryingly close and sometimes far off in the distance. Even the fittest of you find yourselves working up a sweat, your breath harsh in your lungs - travel the day before was reasonably easy, perfect for those recovering after a long hospital stay or adapting to their new limbs, but now the pace that Rourke is setting is pushing you hard.
Luckily, just as the least athletic of you are starting to peter out, the man calls a halt. You have reached a break in the forest, the white trunks surrounding you finally giving way to a large crevasse, maybe two or three hundred feet deep and at least a hundred wide at its base. The shadows within it are deep but you can see the occasional glint of diffracted sunlight on water, and hear a river flowing fast below.
'There we are - safe and sound, for the moment. Now we just need to descend.'
The stone walls of the valley are comprised of craggy off-white rock, laced with red-leaved vines and small warren-like holes, about the size of rabbit-holes. There doesn't seem to be an easy route down to the bottom of the valley anywhere that you can see from your current position. It's too far to jump, and the sides too steep to chance running down.
You hear scrabbling sounds from a few of the warrens, the noises of creatures retreating to the depths. , your gambit appears to have worked.
Bora frowned as she spotted the claw marks around the warrens. This is going from bad to worse.
Her eyes glanced around, spotting a tree they could knock down, and then the vines... The moving vines... What in the...
"There are claw marks on those warrens and moving vines... And it sounds like some kind of invisible predator. Rourke, I think I speak for everyone when I ask this: What the f%^& is down in that valley?"
Rourke looks around uncertainly - he's just as confused as the rest of you.
Roland looked with curiosity over the edge of the cliff, judging whether or not it would be worth the risk trying to use the tree to get to the bottom. Seems like even odds at best. These vines though. Don't know enough about local flora to make a judgement.
Roland turned to the group with a small grin forming that he couldn't completely hide. "Rourke. How much weight do you think these vines can handle? Give me a rough estimate, if you can."
Roland hastily stepped away from the edge of the rock face as an unidentified creature seemed to make its way down the wall.
Rourke, still distracted and unsure of himself, gives the cluster of vines a sharp tug. A few leaves come loose in his hand, but they remain anchored.
'I'd say they'll hold a man's weight, but...' he gestures to the valley below, at a loss for words.
... and the horn sounds again, deep and weighty, closer than ever.
Gavin removed his hat and sat on the edge of the crevasse, using his arm-sleeve to whipe the sweat from his brow. Yes... months in a hospital definitely didn't help trekking in the wild.
He let a long whistle out when Amy did what she did, not quite understanding what it was for, but catching the drift that they probably shouldn't fall down the hole. Gavin instinctively recoiled from the edge of the cliff. He wasn't afraid of heights, but he didn't like being reminded of the very real possibility of falling to his death while perched on the edge of a cliff.
Gavin doesn't notice anything particularly helpful, so instead keeps his eyes on the forest they had just emerged from. Without taking his eyes away from the forest, he asked Rourke, "How long do we have? I'm assuming not long, so we should probably find a way down soon."
'Minutes... hours... maybe she'll never come at all. I don't want to risk it though, if I'm honest.'
Those of you at the top of the valley walls, you can clearly see the shock on Rourke's face - but he recovers quickly.
'Can't get a clearer decision than that, I suppose! I recommend speed!' He swings himself over the lip of the valley with decent speed and grabs hold of the vine, walking himself quickly down the chalky walls until he's next to Amy.