At Sven’s knock, the door creaks open revealing Nadya’s red rimmed eyes. Blotting her cheeks with her sleeve, she listens to Sven’s announcement and questions, a smile growing as he speaks ”They are about seven days sled to the southeast, in the Realm of the Mammoth Lords. I hope one of you can preserve his body that long.” Looking at Sven more closely she adds, ”I’ve seen men of their tribe walking around with marks like yours Sven, and if they see them, they may not take too kindly to your visit. I had better escort you instead of sending a letter to Katz. Their chieftain is Katz Wyrmslayer, and I’ll let you guess how he got that name. I’d say time is of the essence, but we’d be fools to go charging off as night falls. We’ll leave in the morning, make any preparations you need to before then.”
Gilganis nods, his tail swishing behind him, ”They will have to walk through hell itself if they want to enter that cursed place.”
Bugsby considers the problem of a decomposing Kalt, "Maybewecancoverhiminiceandsnow? Orstuffthecanvaswithitperhaps?" he suggests, thinking back to the frozen but largely preserved bodies of the guards when that one lady got attacked in her carriage. I wonder if she's an enemy now... he considers as he waits to hear what the other think of his suggestions.
" Fear not Bugsby. In the morning I can ask for a spell that will keep his body in the shape it is right now. It will last for several days and I can cast it once every other day or so. He will be in fine shape to be raised."
Ankih then sits and starts to diagram in his Journal, the different ways he has seen spells built and cast, trying to grasp a better understanding of magic, both arcane and divine.
He even goes so far as to attempt to craft a spell on his own, albeit unsuccessfully.
The following morning, the group sets out. Nadya has two dogsleds provisioned and ready to go, and after a quick lesson in the Gee/Haws of dogsledding, the group is making excellent time along the snow.
The seven day journey passes fairly uneventfully. The group has a brief run in with a pack of wolves that they manage to repel with out much issue, and Ankih is religious about maintaining Kalt's torn remains in as good of shape as possible.
A few hours out on the seventh day, Nadya calls an unexpected halt to their travels, "They'll have noticed us by now. It'll be best if they invite us in as opposed to us driving in to where I think they are. The Hallit are nomads, and they move as they need to. I've been taking us toward the last summer hold I knew about, but they may not be there."
Sticking a shaft of wood into the snow, she ties off a small flag with a picture of a wolf and settles down. A few hours later, a group of five men seeming appear out of no where a dozen yards away. Dressed in white furs and armed to the teeth, one of them calls out in Halliti:
To which Nadya responds in Halliti:
A wide grin comes over the men and they greet Nadya like old friends, chattering on in Halliti. She seems to be explaining the reason for their visit.
Whispering to her party members, Avora explains. "They are arranging a meeting for us. Nadya would seem to be an old friend, from the way they are carrying on and catching up."
"Not yet."
"Savages from a frozen land of uncertainties. They are world-wise and both strong and hardy. They are largely nomads, moving with the great herds. They are very distrustful of magic and value bravery and cunning. They may help us to recover Kalt if we regale them with the tale of his boldness in battle against the troll. Then again, they may decide that he died a warrior's death and refuse to bring him back."
After a few minutes of conversing, Nadya returns to the group, "They'll lead us to the tribe. They are nestled in a mountain cleft to the south." The group turns south, travelling across a barren landscape and eventually come to the edge of a plateau. Taking an icy switchback trail down and then further east, they finally see their destination. From a cleft in the mountainside, a tent village of dozens sprawls forth. Children can be seen scurrying about in play, with the adults going about their daily chores.
Nadya leads them through the village as a few heads turn to appraise the newcomers, a few even waving to Nadya and calling out greeting. As they round a bend in the tent village, the entire group swiftly inhales as the skull of mighty linnorm is mounted atop the largest tent, with much of it's hide serving as the rest of the tent. Two claws bracket the entrance, where a man only a hand smaller than Sven stands in wait.
Nadya approaches and quickly explains their purpose, causing the man's brow to furrow. Stomping forward, he presents a massive paw to Sven. "I am Katz Wyrmslayer." he says in rough common, "Nadya Says you wish to make use of Mother Mai's skills with the dead. What right do you have to ask this of us. It is a privilege reserved for only the mightiest of blood brothers who die before their proper time."
Not wanting to jeopardize their chances of reviving Kalt, Ankih remains to the back of the group, keeping an eye on Kalt. He stays quiet and as unobtrusive as possible.
Katz growls at the mention of the witch, "A troll is a worthy foe, I've seen many a warrior fall to their claws. You speak of a quest, what do you mean? Also, if we were to consider this, there would also be the matter of payment. What do you bring to honor the tribe?"
In the back, an aged woman appears in the tent opening, her milky white eyes seem to pierce flesh and bone as she stares at each member of the party. as she does, she seems taken aback, as if she sees something unexpected.
Avora whispers to herself, more than to anyone else, "Six winds that blow as one. Is that us? They will turn the tide. Does that mean that we will succeed? Mantle marches on must mean the mantle of this odd winter..." She continues muttering to herself.
After a moment, she tugs on Sven's sleeve. "I think they may be willing to help us, if our offering is worthy. Remember that they value bravery over all else."
Katz chuckles as Sven announces their grand quest, "Well, you don't aim low do ye? As I said, this privilege is reserved for only the greatest of blood brothers, but your remark of trials gives me an idea. We are currently in a territory dispute with the Raptor Scale, and could use additional warriors, and so I have a deal for you. You present us with these gifts and trinkets you brought, and assuming they exceed say, five thousand of your gold pieces in value, we can progress to the second part on my deal. To be raised, he must become a blood brother of the tribe, of that there can be no issue. After revival, he undergoes a private trial, and assuming he is as good as you say, he becomes one of us. During these trials, you scout and track the movements of the Raptor Scale to the east. In a weeks time, you return and share what you know. At that time, your Kalt should have completed his challenges, and we will know if he is worthy to be one of us. Then, as you march on the witches of Irrisen, he bears the marks of the Night Hunt, and we claim much of the south eastern region of Irrisen when you topple their leader. You get your prized warrior, and we get increase hunting grounds and a foot note in your history. What say you?"
Bugsby watches the exchange with excitement, happy that the possibility of reviving Kalt is growing, but mostly his thoughts take him far afield, picturing himself riding a Raptor. His day dream is in slow motion, and the pretend folks in his mind scatter in fear before his loving raptor mount and himself. Back in reality the little gnome is swaying slightly from side to side, a wide smile on his face and his eyes vacant.
Katz takes the offered items and looks the over with an appraising eye. "The spear seems well made, but what more can you tell me of this enchantment on it? The Raptor Scale are a growing tribe, and looking to expand. When given the choice between trying to expand into the area of the Bearpelt, the strongest tribe in the land, or us, their choice was obvious. There have been skirmishes across much of our eastern borders. I want you to track their movements for us, so that we can better prepare our defenses. Many of our trackers are training additional men in their skills, as we've lost quite a few recently."
Katz advises that one of their scouts will provide a map of the area, and after any minor provisioning, the group sets out on their little mission. They make contact midway through the second day with a small band of merchants heading toward Hillcross. On the third, they find tracks of a band of men travelling fast and shadow them a few hours behind. The tracks follow a slow curve south and west for a long while before heading due east. Ensuring this wasn't just a ploy to throw them off, the group continues their patrol as planned, though eyes regularly look to the west incase they backtrack. On the night of the 6th day, a massive blizzard blows in, making the night guards lives very difficult. Returning to the tribe on the seventh day, they learn through rumor that Kalt returned from his mission with a woman in tow, causing Nadya's face to darken considerably. When they inquire about Kalt's location, they are advised they will see him at the ceremony that evening.
Dusk arrives and nearly the entire tribe has come out in full war regalia, even children have bits of armor with daggers on their hips. Katz begins the ceremony describing the might of the clan and the virtues they hold dear. Calling a bare-chested Kalt to come forth, he then recounts the challenge of combat, where Kalt defeated 5 warriors before falling, including one already a blood brother. He tells of the test of wisdom, where Kalt showed near perfect insight and intellect, a trait all should strive for. Finally he tells of Kalt single handedly defeating a group of Raptor Scale at night and using the blizzard to mask his movements and claiming their treasures for the tribe. He explains that the Tribe was told of Kalt's valor and bravery, and he has proven it. By right of deed, he is welcomed to the tribe, and shall bear it's mark.
It is then that the wizened old blind woman comes forth and begins marking him with ritual paint and sprinkling him with a fine glittery dust. Beginning a chant, the woman is joined by two more apprentices who join her in the ritual. Near the climax, she presses her hand against Kalt's chest and the scars from his ordeal with the troll begins to shift and twist, like clay under a mastercraftman's tool. It is clear her actions are paining Kalt, but he holds his tongue, refusing to howl in pain. When she is done, the scars form a wolfs head on his chest. She then chants a second hymn, and the paint pulses with power. Their tasks complete, the women retreat and Katz resumes the center position, a massive claymore that looks to have seen very little use in his hand. Thrusting it down into the earth before Kalt, he calls out in a booming voice, "Rise Kalt of the Night Hunt, and be recognized by all!" With the said, a cheer rises up from the masses and many come forth to congratulate their newest recruit.
Bugsby struggles along with the others as they take part in their little mission, trying not to slow everyone down. There's much to see and touch and taste and smell, so the little gnome is quite engaged. He huddles next to the others when the blizzard comes in, struggling to keep warm, and rises cold the next morning. The news that Kalt is alive however, gives speed to Bugsby's step as they all hurry back to the tribe and prepare for the ceremony that evening.
*********************
Quite caught up in the mystic and excitement of the tribe, Bugsby's eyes are wide, as if he's trying to take in every bit of the experience. At one point he looks around and realizes he's entirely without armor and makes a bumpy, slow but fruitful trek through the crowd. When he arrives back to his original spot, he's heavily adorned with mismatching armor and small weapons all jutting atop his clothes and looking very out of place. His smiles indicates satisfaction with his attire, and he settles in to wait for the return of his friend.
He gasps when Kalt finally steps into sight, looking very much the same, and yet entirely different. Casting his detect magic spell, Bugsby is reeling at the swirling, pulsing magic being wielding upon Kalt, and it's all he can do to remember to continue to breath amidst the riot of colors visible only to him. When it's finished, Bugsby looks upon the wolfs head on Kalt naked chest, and a familiar look crosses his face. He opens his own shirt some, considering his largely smooth chest, and glances at one of the knives he 'found'. Before he can do anything drastic, the masses are cheering and roaring, and Bugsby launches himself at one of Kalts legs, clinging to it happily, "KaltKalt!! Didyousee??!! Didyousee!!??" he cries, scarcely audible above the wave of well-wishers, "You'renotdeadanymore!"
The tanned northwoman raises an eyebrow and chuckles softly as Kalt is assaulted bodily by the tiny gnome. She tries to blend in with the crowd, but is somewhat ill at ease with so many people around her... so many unfamiliar faces.
The night before they leave on their scouting mission for the tribe, Ankih sits and stares at the bundle of white fur in his hands.
Sven decided to use Avora's spear for the gift to the tribe to save Kalt. He holds it and pets it like a cat.
I guess that's for the better, this cloak is very useful against the cold. It feels like I didn't contribute anything to the raising of our friend, tho.
With a sigh he rises and dons the Yeti cloak once more, enjoying the relief from the cold.
During the scouting mission, he attempts to make himself useful, with many endure elements and healings to combat the cold.
Ah. Welcome back to the land of the living friend... Heh. from the look on Bugsby's face I must assume there is quite a bit of magic involved in this 'ceremony'. The armor and weapons are new tho...
Working his way nearer the enraptured gnome, Ankih says just loud enough to be heard...
" Uh.. Friend Bugsby? You might not want to borrow things so freely from our new friends. It might give them the wrong idea about you. I'm sure you wouldn't want that? Plus, we wouldn't want them to take back the gift of life from Kalt, now would we?"
Don't think they can actually do that, short of killing him again, but one never knows...
Bugsby however is much to involved to listen or even hear Ankih. Sighing in frustration, he watches his diminutive friend run up and hug Kalt's leg.
" It seems you are indeed blessed by Milady, friend Kalt." Ankih says as he approaches the newly risen hero.
" Welcome back. May the Dawnflower's light shine on you always." He continues, as he slaps the Ulfen warrior on the shoulder.
" I heard you came back with a woman.... Nadya wasn't so amused when she heard, you might tread carefully for a few days."
With a grin he turns to survey the crowd, catching sight of a northern woman, who tho surrounded by people seems very alone....
Seeing a flash of flame, and positive energy, Ankih does a double take, But nothing seems amiss, and nobody else seems to notice. Another vision Milady? What could it mean....
Kalt is intensely focused on Katz as the ceremony gets under way, unsure exactly what is to come. As the Linnorm-slayer recounts the challenges Kalt has overcome, he feels a certain pride in those accomplishments, and relief that he didn’t have to kill many of his quarry in the final challenge. He is very pleased to hear Katz welcome him to the tribe, though he knows only a little of their ways – he has belonged few places in his life, and it is good to add one to that short list.
As Mother Mai begins her incantations and application of strange powders and paint, Kalt wonders what effect such adornments could have on his induction into the tribe – and then the pain begins. Although it is not as all-consuming a pain as when the troll slew him, it is more focused and seems to last an eternity. Determined to live up to the tribe’s expectations of him, Kalt clenches his jaw to stifle a cry, and studies the shifting patterns of agony in his chest as the scar reforms and takes on the wolf image he will bear for the rest of his days. Kalt scarcely even notices Mother Mai moving away, but when Katz plants the great blade in front of him, he regains his focus and stands, nodding respectfully to the chieftain before looking around the assembled crowd to take in the faces of his new fellow tribesman. As he does so, he sees the faces of his companions from Heldren, who have brought him here, and brought him back.
With his face showing far more emotion than his friends are used to seeing, Kalt takes a step toward them, to thank them and welcome them to his tribe’s lands. But before he can take a second step toward that goal, Bugsby comes crashing towards him, his dog’s breakfast of a suit of armor jangling and clanking as he moves. The gnome’s exuberant hug – and slightly belated news – set Kalt to smiling broadly, but before he can speak, he is enveloped in a bearhug of such crushing power, it can only belong to one man. Kalt’s joy, and simple comfort, and sense of safety in a hard world, are all so great when he realizes that he and Sven are once again together, that he cannot begin to express them in words. ”Brother,” he says, for that one word suits the occasion best. In spite of the mighty hug, he manages to raise a friendly hand in response to Ankih’s kind words, and one of Kalt’s eyebrows quirks up in interest when he hears of Nadya’s reaction to his travelling with Lana.
Kalt has been back among the living for more than a week now, and in that time has done things that many living men have not. But it is when he is finally returned to the company of his friends that he feels he has returned not just to living, but to life. He hasn’t really had a people before, especially once his mother died. But he now has a tribe, to which he owes allegiance, and which offers him protection. And even more amazing to the pale-skinned, awkward Ulfen, he feels he has a family stronger than any blood kin, and his heart surges with a fierce loyalty to them all. In a voice quite uncharacteristically choked with emotion, he says, ”My friends, I am so glad to see you all. Thank you. Thank you for everything.”
The snow-toughened face tilts slightly as the woman studies Sven from a distance. She raises her eyebrows at his words and gesture, as if to ask, oh? What stories have they told you about me?
Shaking her head with a chuckle, she moves over toward the group's happy reunion. "Sven," she acknowledges, one hand reaching down a bit awkwardly to touch her dagger-hilt in greeting. "Well met. I am Lana."
Best not to let him see my doubt in that... his friend thought I was insane for my honesty.
As the two look at each other, both see an aura appear for a moment, Lana sees Sven shrouded in black, while Sven sees the newcomer in a mantle of white. The aura’s last but a moment, but afterwards, a feeling of kinship remain.
Avora pauses, unsure she is seeing what she thinks she is seeing. A dead man walks; a man she has called friend. With eyes wet with tears, she surges forward to embrace Kalt in a bear-like hug. "I thought you lost, my brother."
Turning to the newcomer, Avora offers a hand in greeting. "Tja sätta, vän. Jag är Avora."
Lana blinks a few times at the unceremonious hug, then studies the indicated faces in turn, her own face taking on a curious expression. As Sven introduces Avora and the woman addresses her, a brief expression of confusion crosses her features before she smiles softly and touches her dagger-hilt in greeting again. "Är du inte kunna tala engelska?" she asks, curiosity evident in her tone.
Bugsby waves happily when he's introduced to Lana, standing next to Kalt rather than hugging him, he is a grown gnome after all. As the language turns foreign his little hand reaches up to tug on Kalt leg, almost unconciously, but the tugging becomes stronger and stronger until Bugsby seems to finally notice what he's doing, and he look up at Kalt, ceasing the tugging. "Sorry! IthinkmybrainknewIhadaquestion." he says, his eyes alight with the joy of the evening and meeting new people. After taking a moment to order his thoughts he begins, "First, andmostimportant -Whatwasdyinglike?!? Notthebloodyrippingandtearingoffleshanddrippingofbloodanddrainingoflife... Notthatpart." He shakes his head as if to banish an unpleasant memory, "Butonceyouweredead! Wastherefamily? Blackness? Whiteness? Greeness? Purpleness? Animalness? Coldness? Warmness? Lotsoffood-ness?"
He pauses and crosses his hands, apparently ready to wait for a response, but then excitedly launches into his next question with scarcely a breath, "Who'sLana? Areyoufriends? Areyourmarried? Issheyoursister? Issheyourspiritmother? Isshemyspiritmother? Doyouhavekidstogether? Isshenice? Isshemean? Doesherhairlooknicewhenit'sinabun? Howmanytoesdoesshehave?"
"Whyareyoulookingatmelikethat?"
What'sherrelationshipwithyourmother? Whattimedoesshewakeupforbreakfast? Whatsideofthebedrolldoesshesleepon? Whenwill...." and continues to babble, seemingly determined to keep asking the questions that fill his mind, forgetting entirely to wait for a response. Clearly all the excitement has caused him to forget some important social skills.
The woman's face twitches slightly as she tries to keep from laughing aloud. One of the little folk, here? Come all the way from the warm lands to the south... that's what Sven said. But why?
She glances among the assembled group, clearly amused, and tries to meet someone's eyes with the unspoken question: Wait, wha?
Avora smiles at the woman. "I do speak their tongue, but I thought you might appreciate being greeted in one perhaps more familiar."
Lana frowns, shaking her head. "I don't understand what you mean."
After a brief moment she smiles and holds up her hand. "Nevermind... you need not explain. You speak it very well."
The woman's eyes flicker toward Sven, resting momentarily on the gnome before moving on to the big Ulfen. Her face relaxes back into an amused, tolerant expression as she smiles her thanks at Sven for his explanation. "Ah..." she begins. "It is true. This Katz, the Wyrmslayer, said he did not know me, so it is logical to deduce that I am not of his clan." Her gloved fingers twitch ever so slightly, and suddenly she looks startled. "Gwerin bach! Fe'ch gelwir gwerin bach!" she exclaims softly yet slowly, a hint of wonder or discovery touching her tone.
She studies the gnome intently, though some part of her attention seems to be elsewhere.
Bugsby stopping speaking and nods, quite satisfied with Svens translation. He's so ready to learn more about this new person he's leaning forward, so when she changes gears into speaking Sylvan he stands back up straight. But he answers her quickly enough, speaking in a light and quick tongue.
Lana blinks a few times at the gnome's comment, then shakes her head disbelievingly. "The little folk are always incorrigible, aren't they?" she asks.
"Very well, Bugsby, I will answer what questions I can of yours. I traveled here with Kalt on his return from his trial; I have known him only a day. Hmm... I have ten toes, as I suspect do you, and I am not aware of being anyone's spirit mother."
Kalt returns his friends’ affection openly, giving Avora a strong, fraternal hug and saying, ”I was lost, and a strange journey it was. But Katz’s people – my people, now - have brought me back. I am glad that you all are here, that you all survived. Did you kill that damn troll? What happened in the tower?” He steps back and looks down at Bugsby, who has just begun to unleash his torrent of questions. Smiling calmly, Kalt waits for him to wind down a bit, then responds, ”I will need to think some on how to describe the world between worlds. My journey there has left me somewhat…shaken. Though seeing you all does a great deal to restore me.”
”As to Lana, she and I met while I was fulfilling a task set me by Katz. I do not know the answers to all of your questions, but I can say she is neither my wife nor my sister, nor have we produced any children in the day or two I have known her. But she seems a good, if uneasy, soul, and we do seem to share kinship of a sort, though I am not sure exactly what sort.”
He then turns to listen to the others getting to know Lana, content to have his friends around him again, and settling quickly back into the role of quiet observation while Sven and the others take the lead on actually talking to people.
Bugsby nods, accepting Lana's and Kalt's answers solemly, but he does snap his fingers and move his arm in a little gesture as if to say 'drat!' when he hears she's no ones spirit mother.
------
Bugsby elaborates slightly on Sven's tale, "Therewasagiantlady, andMeirultriedtotrickuswithfaketrolls, andIgotstabbed!" He looks at Sven, "Maybetheythinkwe'vegoneforgood. Idon'tknowhoweasyitistoreplacegiantsandMierul-types, butI'mhopingtheirstillrecovering." and shrugs, as if not overly concerned. He turns bright eyes towards Lana, "Wesmashedtheirmirrors!" he proclaims proudly.