The Father of Waters

Game Master Fighting Chicken

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Drazan, Desnus 12 - 18
===============

BARRACKS

The base stone at the foot of one bunk within the barracks gives way, and you find a small metal box, made of beaten metal, with an intricate lock on the front. The box is locked, with a crank on one side.

SHIELDROOM

You find Aktuk here, drilling with his soldiers, fifteen in all. The always serious sergeant stands ramrod straight as you enter the room, and then gives you a slight nod. "We're practicing close-combat. The - I don't know exactly what they are called - shield barriers? They make great chokepoints. A group of well-trained men could likely hold off a great force for days here."

"You're the greatest warrior I've ever seen. Care to train with us?"

FORGE

Fulton is distracted today, his eyes darting around the forge. Amazing! Almost exactly like the book. I could spend some time here, try to figure out how it works. But... The Master of the Flight asked me to work at the writings in the tower. And that's really interesting too! Did you know, these creatures - these Darohm - they don't exactly have a way to communicate possession in terms of themselves and objects? So, like," Fulton looks around the room, and then picks up a nearby tool, a long thin, metal rod, ending in a dull point. "If dropped this, whatever this is, and it broke, I would tell you, 'Drazan, I dropped this and it broke.' But they would say, 'it fell itself and it broke itself.' Well, it sounds better in their tongue. Fascinating, huh?"

Fulton has a strange sense of fascinating.

"Anyways," the weaponsmith says, glancing again around the room, "What would you have me do?

==============
Imix, Desnus 11
==============
You find the engineer Tepix topside, talking with Utzi. She nods at your instructions. "Hai. I'll do it."

The next morning, the engineer seeks you out, finding you in the spiral room. "No campfires last night, as far as I could see."

===============
Imix, Desnus 12 - 18
===============

Chukix and the pupils set up in the spiral room, though none of them seem to enjoy it as much as you do. Tepix sticks his tongue out. "Moist," he says, scrunching his mouth in distaste. "Moist and hot" Selma says, scrunching her whole face.

Your keeper, for his part, suffers in dignity. The two of you and the apprentices spend the days working the room, sketching its features and taking detailed notes of everything. Upon closer examination you find that the chimney has strategically placed reflective metal plates embedded in the walls, as far up as your cantrips can allow you to see. Towards the end of the week, you start on translating the runic writing, with the help of some notes from Fulton to get you started. It turns out that Mossy especially has a facility for language beyond his years; it is the boy that figures out that there is no sound for "o" in the Darohm dialect, which in turn leads to an important discovery: the room is not, as Istiel had surmised, a room for the creation of magical things. Rather, it is a ritual room designed to create magical beings. Nargun.

Well, you think, studying the rune for 'create,' maybe create isn't exactly the right word. Instead, perhaps 'bind' is more accurate.

On Desnus 13, you break for lunch and flash-fry some lakefish in the bubbling pool. The children sit, munching away happily; the fish has a pleasant and not too oily taste, if it is a little bony. Chukix has had a rather uneventful Flight, all things considered, and enjoys your description of the dangers you faced in this Darohm city. He leans forward, particularly interested as you speak of Yd. Running his hand over his balding pate, your keeper looks concerned. "He knew what you were? How do you think he knew so much about you and your kind, Suriname Imix?"

Desnus 17 brings a full moon, fat in the sky above the city. You wake to find the room filled with moonlight, reflected down into the ritual room. Stretching over the pond, a silver rainbow, likely mirroring a ley line that the ritual room lies within.

========
Desnus 11, slight retcon
========

Desnus 11 is in fact a clear day, bright and a little on the cool side. The makeshift dam mostly does the trick, diverting the bulk of the water away from the cliff's edge, while its rough nature allows it to be climbed easily enough. Atop the dam, the view stretches for miles. The falls to your south and east are impressive, the thundering sound still reaching your ears by the dam, though at a bearable level. The width of the falls is impossible to ascertain from your viewpoint, lost to mist.

More importantly, to the south, water stretches out below you, though not unbroken. Nearer to the falls, the Father of Waters still exists, though in a more diluted state. The river cuts a wide channel through swampland, wide enough that to the far southwest you cannot make out the far bank. To the southeast, the water seems to be deepest closest to the cliff, but then you can see patches of brown and green break the surface, and smaller channels meander between them. Low hillocks and hummocks stretch to the east, as far as the view allows.

The water churns close the cliffside, but the Cheya River settles into a gentler current as moves south. The river, even in the valley, was never a beautiful one; swift and muddy. From this height, its waters are black, as is the swampland adjacent to it. The occasional bird circles in the air currents, considerably below where you stand.

===============
Istiel, Desnus 12 - 14
===============

The first day, you scout the land above the dwarf city. The lake is about two square miles and has a good number of fish, especially a pale white fish with flaky flesh when scaled and cooked. The surrounding woods are wild and tangled, you find your robe stuck with burrs and you move throughout the forest. Past the lake, the cliffside stretches to the east, until, many miles away, no doubt there is even a greater set of falls where the Father of Waters spills over the cliffside.

The next day, as you plan to head into the swamp, you find the fisherwoman, Korya Kolta, swimming into the water at the end of the steps. She swims out about five feet from the steps and then stops swimming, the woman standing motionless as if her feet were on the bottom. Catching your eye, she smiles and waves. "Pier footings! Stone" Ducking her head, she drops under the water, surfacing again a few moments later. "I think they were broken off. There was probably a great pier here at one time. I bet, with enough labor, I could have a workable dock built in about a week. It wouldn't last forever, but we could use it to build the boats on!"

Desnus 14 and 15 find you out on the swamp. The Cheya cuts a (relatively) deep channel among the swamp, on average about 6 feet. Its pace is languid, the current and channel heading in a meandering, but generally southbound direction. On either side of the Cheya, the waters get shallower, until you find areas that are firm enough to walk on, interspersed with waters only a few inches deep, with some variation. The sun is hot, the weather humid, biting flies and mosquitoes make your time in these shallower, stagnant waters miserable.

The waters themselves are murkey. You raise a little to your lips to slake your thirst, and find the taste offputting, foul. A closer look at the vegetation, and the occasional fish that see, finds them small, stunted, weak. The marshwillows and cattails are brown and sickly, the cedars and willows stooped, as if diseased.

Atop the hillocks, things seem more promising. The plants here look healthier and grow greener, though they stoop as if thirsty for rain.

As you range farther and farther from the cliffside, you find your first sign of sentient life; small wooden idols, made of branches and reeds, woven into vaguely humanoid forms. They are often topped with the skulls of small animals, birds mostly, and adorned with feathers. Uniformly, they face the cliffside.

===============
Istiel, Desnus 15 - 18
===============

You find Suuha in the alchemy room, a bunch of materials spread out on one of the metal beds. He flashes you a brilliant smile. "Ist! How're things? Hear you've been pretty busy these past few days, huh? Tsk, tsk, tsk. Kicking old hermits out of their homes and taking their shells, not a good way to make friends."

The monk leans in close and shakes a vial. "Seriously, though. Whatever this guy was up to here. Its rakked up." Leaning back up, Suuha gives you an inscrutable look. "You OK? You look more... rigid than usual."

===============
Oios, Desnus 11 - 18
===============

You look at the walls of books, unsure where exactly to start. When faced with a task that seems insurmountable, Telowo has told you, it is best to just pick a point and jump in. So you start at the top left, and begin working your way right and down, and by the end of the first day, you've been over the books as a swarm of beetles covers a dungheap - in their entirety. Although you don't know the meaning of the runic writing, familiar shapes begin to jump out at you, and they are often in sections; you can tell that the library is well organized.

Additionally, atop a tall shelf you find a small wooden canoe, perfectly proportioned. The bottom of the model canoe is copper-plated, as is the prow, which looks to be beaten into the shape of a long-snouted crocodile. Sitting within the canoe are six white ash paddles. The canoe radiates magic, as do the paddles.

A large space of one of the shelves - near to the plundered chest - has been cleared off, as if a whole section of books are missing. There is no dust here; the books were recently moved.

The next day, you start at the top again, and this time, start making notations on a slate board as you go, and assisted with a helpful scratching of notes from the Cornucopian weaponsmith Fulton, begin to make some sense of things. By noon, you've enlisted Tex, and you've started a complete cataloging of the works within the room, which are extensive. You find Tex to be an efficient worker, and even better, she wastes little time in small talk.

So immersed in your work you both are, that you don't notice the Lady Bellet until she is standing right beside you. She gives you a flat smile, those brilliant eyes staring into yours. "I can help. I loved studying language as a youth."

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Nat, Desnus 11 - 18
================

Going through the bone pit is grim work, but it is one well-suited to a midwife and a priestess, and it is well-suited to the wise-woman Helgya and her apprentice, the girl Issy, who both join you.

The wise-woman knows her healing arts, it is soon apparent, though age is catching up to her; she takes frequent breaks and moves slowly. The girl, you've met before, though time has passed, and she is once again quiet; you catch her giving you furtive looks as the day goes on.

On the second day, Anayda, Oios' sister, joins you in going through the bones. She sings softly to herself and says little. And so, the four women work throughout the week, bonding quietly over bones.

Soon, you've begun sorting the bones into piles that now line the halls, according to presumed species; both animal and humanoid.

Straightening her back, Helgya sighs. "Raw materials most likely, maybe used in that room the daft monk Suuha spends his time in? Look at some of them, the ones on the bottom; they show great age."

The bone piles are nearly complete, and you'll soon be able to examine them in more detail. A soft cough interupts you, and looking up from the bottom of the pit, you see the farmer Cogsward looking down. He removes his hat and holds it in one large, weathered hand. "Excuse me, ladies. We need a healer in the town square, when one of you has a moment."

Not sensing an emergency, Helgya waves her hand. "Ah, you go, dearie. I'm beat."

Issy, already half up the ladder, looks to you. "I'm going too!"

BARRACKS

Drazan flashes both rows of teeth in a smile at the discovery as he calls out to the young man, Look! Look at this. The same place a warrior named Appius used to hide his chew. Though is much more curious than that. Drazan turns over the box multiple times admiring the craft more than the craftmanship before cautiously manipulating the crank; fearful of how fragile it might be.

SHIELDROOM

Meeting Aktuk's gaze with his own, Drazan nods and emulates the man's own stance, And you the most disciplined warrior. Yes, I will train with you. What would you have me do?

FORGE

Yes. Quite interesting." Drazan says settling into his position and crossing his arms to think. Are the writings carved or drawn? Some time could be spent collecting the words and translated later. Regardless, there is value here to be sure while writing serves too many purposes to carry any promise. They could be ravings of the dead born that used to be here for all Oios knows. This place had a purpose, and we can rediscover it to wield against those that would threaten the Flight. Then Drazan turns his head to lock eyes with Fulton, Collect what writings you can for later, but be quick about it. This here is an opportunity that will prepare us for inevitable conflict.

===============
Imix, Desnus 12 - 18
===============

"You may sleep in the hall, should you wish. I for one find it soothing." Imix responded, sighing in delight. Not constantly cold, and dry, and tired. His sinuses opened. His constant low level headache abated. His second eyelids relaxed - and his mood improved immeasurably.

Working with a relaxed Imix was an unusual experience for the children. A dropped tool brought a shrug, rather than a rebuke. Morning breakfasts became casual, languid affairs. Imix demanded everyone drink regularly, though the cauldron of water he kept boiling in the corner did nothing to help with the heat. To the children's delight he even wasted some of his powers on cooling their steaming teas with magic, to the point that the top froze up. Algl Mossy learned to stir heavily sugared tea ferociously during the process, turning it into a slushy soup of iced drink.

He even found time to play with Selma and Alglin - though he proved as poor at the concept as one might expect. Quickly tiring of pointless make believe he took them down to the swamp to lear how to swim.

===============
Imix, Desnus 13
===============

"An interesting question, Chukix." Imix's voice was smooth in the steamy air. He grunted once, as if choking. "Ashkesh also spoke of the Suriname. He talked of another Suriname walking the world." Muscles stretched and grew as the Suriname bulked out. Skin coarsened. "I believe him. I saw the dates in the Labyrinth, Chukix. I know they lied." ten feet from the pool Imix rose to suddenly clawed feet. "I think now is the time for truth. Don't you, Chukix?"

================

Nat, Desnus 11 - 18
================

Going through the bone pit is grim work, but it is one well-suited to a midwife and a priestess, and it is well-suited to the wise-woman Helgya and her apprentice, the girl Issy, who both join you.

The wise-woman knows her healing arts, it is soon apparent, though age is catching up to her; she takes frequent breaks and moves slowly. The girl, you've met before, though time has passed, and she is once again quiet; you catch her giving you furtive looks as the day goes on.

On the second day, Anayda, Oios' sister, joins you in going through the bones. She sings softly to herself and says little. And so, the four women work throughout the week, bonding quietly over bones.

Soon, you've begun sorting the bones into piles that now line the halls, according to presumed species; both animal and humanoid.

Straightening her back, Helgya sighs. "Raw materials most likely, maybe used in that room the daft monk Suuha spends his time in? Look at some of them, the ones on the bottom; they show great age."

The bone piles are nearly complete, and you'll soon be able to examine them in more detail. A soft cough interupts you, and looking up from the bottom of the pit, you see the farmer Cogsward looking down. He removes his hat and holds it in one large, weathered hand. "Excuse me, ladies. We need a healer in the town square, when one of you has a moment."

Not sensing an emergency, Helgya waves her hand. "Ah, you go, dearie. I'm beat."

Issy, already half up the ladder, looks to you. "I'm going too!"

It is not the most pleasant work, but the dead deserve to be properly buried. Besides, it is a pleasure to work in silence after the noise and chaos of the last few days.

As Cogsward interrupts them, Nat nods, slowly, her dark eyes looking at him with curiosity; but she says nothing. If he wanted to give them more information than that, he'd have give it. She stretches, feeling the scars around her ribs and back twinge in protest. "Oy'm happy to go. The walk will do me good."

She smiles at Issy. "Alroyt. Let's go and see what's needed, shall we?"

===============
Oios, Desnus 11 - 18
===============

Learning a new language was not just a matter of syntax and grammar. It was a matter of learning a new form of thought. Tkoyah wasn't just words, it was a way of thinking of the world that was formal and structured. Tooyah was not just sounds but pragmatism personified. Tsinyah was musical and sometimes eschewed clarity in favour of grace. The language of the Frozen reflected a blunt and harsh view of a bleak reality.

Darholm was very different again. It seemed to be a language of high concepts. Almost higher than language can grapple with and it made for a tongue that needed a very lateral way of thought that was foreign to Oios.

Mumbling to himself as he attempts to keep the new writing and concepts in his head Oios almost crashes into the Lady Bennet. He meets her cold gaze with tired eyes for a moment before nodding. The more help the better, and he had no reason to believe that Bennet would do anything to move against him while the Flight was still in progress.

Yes, certainly, the boy Fulton shares your passion it seems. His notes have helped me decipher at least some of what this tongue is. Look over them as you wish. This place of books was well organized and that should help. There are works of Philosophy, there is Literature, there more technical works.

===============
All the other stuff, Desnus 11 - 18
===============

Most of the Flight takes refuge in the underground town square, waiting patiently for word to start looking over the rooms. Your people seem to understand the importance of patience in this strange and unfamiliar environment. Campsites are set up in the square, with a main area in the center becoming a makeshift kitchen, Ogwe tending its fires most day and night. The cooler air of the underground cavern comes as a relief from the steadily warming days topside.

But not everyone spends all their time underground. Laundry and bathing takes place in the lake, as does some fishing, although the curious have taken to casting nets off the boat landing. That they catch little, and what they do catch is scrawny and twisted means little; it is a chance to lay eyes on the next step of the journey.

Aktuk spends his days training his men in the shieldroom. Soon, at Bellet's request, hers have joined the taciturn sergeant, though when off-duty the soldiers tend to spend their time in the town square with everyone else. Soldiers patrol the corridors, and a pair of them are always stationed at the mouth of the stairs at the tower; they stand on either side of a large horn, set upon a tripod, and pointed down the stairs at the underground city: if needed, in the approach of danger, they will blow three bleating blasts of the horn.

Hamfatten and his junior magistrates stay by the boats, guarding them and their cargos, and Sarre takes her soldiers on frequent patrols around the topside area, on the lookout for Frozen and any other dangers.

After a couple of days, the laborers begin unloading the boats and hauling the Flight's supplies into the Darholme. The name that has taken off among the people, even if the Oios intended it to mean language, and not place. By the end of the week, the keelboats are stripped all the way down to their skeletons, the provisions, reed plating and wood decking of the boats stacked neatly in the corridors leading up from the swamp.

It isn't Shadeholme - it can never be home, after all, but it isn't bad either, being in Darholme. The normalacy of everyday routines brings a bit of cheer and hope to your people, even if everyone knows it is temporary.

===============
Istiel, Desnus 12 - 14
===============

The burrs and brairs turn out to be a welcome addition to Istiel's robes- in fact, she wears them as badges of honor while snaking through the surrounding wilderness. The constant droning of the falls in the distance mixed with the often loud, territorial birdsong make for a melodic journey, punctuated only by the fleeing exclamations of the seemingly hundreds of frogs she scares from the edges of watershed pools.

Walking amongst the wilds brings Istiel a peace she had not known since before the first sparks of the Flame began to smolder in their previous lives. Of course, it was not difficult for Istiel to find peace in some sense; indeed, she had trained much of her life to achieve a nearly instant, focused, mediative tranquility that allowed her to control every muscle in her body with the same precision others find in their hands. Yet, such a state required focus and exertion, wheras this tranquility came easily, effortlessy, and had languid qualities only hours of meditation could bring.

She returns to the island in the night, carrying a string of fish and a satchel of pressed spring herbs. Her body aches with a unique satisfaction, one so different from the rush she exeriences when she feels an opponent's bones crunch beneath her knuckles. Instead, she realizes a longing for simplier times had been fulfilled. Despite the fact these troubled times were her greatest chance for glory and ascension, still a part of her wished for Dohmnall's predictable schedule, the hikes for herbs, and the enveloping heat of the blind-bath.

The monk shakes her head, dispelling the thoughts of an unrecoverable past, and begins taking her spoils to the kitchen.

The next day, Istiel finally reaches the base of the steps after carrying a canoe all the way from the top. Without pausing she sets her supplies aside and begins to push the watercraft into its preferred medium, glancing at the swimming fisherwoman in the process. The monk tosses her jute sack and an oar into the canoe before gracefully hopping inside.

"Do it." The words are her only contribution to the plan to build a pier, picking up the oar and shoving off from the stone. After an inital wobble as she catches the currents from the falls, Istiel is paddling steadily towards the distant marshes.

In constrast with the cool forests above the End of the World, the marshes are a miserable experience. Between the constant paddling, heat, and humidity she quickly became drenched with sweat beneath her robes. Birdsong was few and far between, the plants were sad excuses for life, and the fetid water offered her no easy way to quench her mounting thirst.

Something was wrong with this marsh, and she firmly believed this was no place for the Three Peoples to settle. She gathered plants and samples of the water for Imix's discerning eye- perhaps the Suriname could tell what ails the land if she did not find evidence.

Given her disposition against the sickly life of the marsh, she was surprised to find the totems indicating sentient creatures nearby. Images of the fabled Beastmen dance in her mind, but sickly and malnourished like the surroudning flora.

Jumping out of her canoe the monk leans into the vessel to retrieve her sack. She squishes over the ground to the territorial marker with a candlerod in hand, driving it into the ground in front of the totem. As she makes her way back to the canoe she makes no effort to hide her tracks. The Three People were coming, and the beastmen may be more receptive to their passage if they were not caught by surprise.

If they were willing to bargain, she would leave it to the others to ensure the protection of the Flight through words. If not, Istiel was prepared to kill as many as it took to make the way safe.

===============
Istiel, Desnus 15 - 18
===============

Istiel lets out a humorous snort at Suuha's teasing. "I do not make friends with undead." She replies plainly, eyes focusing on the vial he was shaking in front of her. "Espcially not ones dedicated to multiplying their number."

Suuha's question about her well being causes her to stare questioningly at him for moment. She didn't like how he wasn't wearing a mask. Or that he was growing a beard. She especially didn't like how good it looked on him. It was still foreign to hear his voice coming out of a face that was not the cherry oak flame she knew for years. She had already lost Domnhall, and now it felt like Suuha had been... replaced.

Istiel defensively crosses her arms over her chest. "I am fine. Perhaps tired. The road is long. Time is short."

She looks over at the multitude of vials Suuha has set up along the metal table, and changes the subject. "What have you discovered?"

===============
Drazan, Desnus 12 - 18
===============

BARRACKS

The young soldier, a boy named Nepchuk, has been quiet since he's been with you, but he comes closer as you beckon. Scratching his head, the boy looks at you, and offers up the first words he's spoken. "Appius? Is he that fellow from Cornucopia? The fellow with the book?"

The crank barely turns before it comes to a stop - apparently the mechanism doesn't work with the box closed.

SHIELDROOM

Aktuk gives you a brief bow, submissive. "Thank you, Drazan of Peklenc. I'd have you teach us. How do you do what you do? If a horde of our enemies charge us in this room, how do you kill them, and remain upright?"

FYORGE

"The writings are carved!" Fulton exclaims, happy to see your enthusiasm. "I bet, if I took some parchment and charcoal... I'll work this week on collecting the writings, and then I'll spend time here with you at the Forge!"

Fulton leaves the book with you, and by the end of the week, you’re able to figure out how the various tools within the room interact with the “fyorge” (as it is apparently pronounced). The fyorge itself still remains a mystery, if in mechanics if not purpose.

The tools, of course, can be removed from the room (three sets of masterwork craftsman’s tools, good for weapons, armor, and blacksmithing respectively).

===============
Imix, Desnus 13
===============

Chukix stands, hands grasping the kukris strapped to his belt. Your keeper, his posture so often stooped, his demeanor always of resignation, changes, in many ways a transformation as remarkable as yours. The man stands straight, his eyes flinty, his jaw set.

The words come, fluent in the languages that you speak, with little accent.

===============
Nat, Desnus 17
===============

Cogsward takes you towards the town center, his hands wringing his hat as he walks. He casts sideways glances at the maimed girl, before sighing in resignation to the fact that she'd be included.

"It is probably nothing, but... after lunch, she doubled over, vomited in the square. Turns out she's been feeling sick, off and on, for a couple of days now."

The farmer looks around him, up and down the tunnels, now lit with lanterns placed along the floor, and grimaces. I worry about this place, that there is still the taint of undeath here. A plague, or worse... "We've moved the girl to the top of the inn, to keep her away from the others."

The inn is still in shambles, though the third floor has been hastily tidied. A small room has been given over to the infirm girl; a "mattress" of canvas bags, stuffed with hay, has been put by a window overlooking the square, its sill long cracked and crumbled. The chasqui Paola lays upon the mattress, half-asleep, her hair matted with sweat. Nando, the other surviving chasqui, stands nearby, his face pallid with concern.

"He won't leave her," Cogsward says, annoyance playing on the farmer's voice.

"Quoyte royt, we don't leave our friends when they need us, do we?" Nat gives Nando a friendly, reassuring half-smile, the scar across her lip doing its usual thing of preventing a full smile. "Besoydes, Oy'll need to know where she's been, and who else can tell me that, if not another chasqui? So, chasqui, where have the two of you been that you shouldn't have?"

This is a far more direct look: Don't bother - I've no patience for your stories, and your friend has no time. Tell me the truth.

She moves to examine Paola, mentally cataloguing the symptoms that Cogsward recited to her: vomiting after food, feeling ill for some days, now feverish and barely conscious... her skilled hands mop the girl's brow, taking her pulse, examining her eyes, her breathing.

She does her best to hide whatever anxieties she is feeling: everyone knows what plagues can do to a population, and the last thing she needs right now is panic. Best to be calm. "Alroyt, moy girl." This is addressed to Issy. "What herbs am Oy going to need for sickness and a temperature? And what else am Oy going to want, now?"

Laying her tattooed hand on Paola's brow, Nat prays silently to her Goddess. If this is a disease, best to cast it out before it spreads.

She nods at Cogsward. "You did the royt thing, coming to foynd me. Did anyone else help bring her up here? Oy'd loyke to just make sure that they're OK."

===============
Oios, Desnus 11 - 18
===============

And so the three of you work throughout the week, cataloging and roughly translating the library. The library is expansive, covering many subjects, but near as you can figure it largely focuses on the history of the Darohm kingdom, its important personages, places, and the geography of its lands. There is a large section of statistical tables, that seem to be things marking economic output, goods produced, and the like, of the various Darohm holdings.

The basic cataloging done, you end the week with a feeling of accomplishment. Still, more work is needed before you uncover the entirety of the secrets held by this library.

Desnus 18 finds the Lady Bellet yawning. Her eyes droop as she goes through the books, the thrill of this temporary diversion gone. Sitting in one of the study chairs, the Lady closes her eyes and takes a sip of lake water from a chipped clay mug. Opening her eyes, she looks to you, and rather than regal, the woman just looks tired. "Thank you, Oios the Shadow, for saving my life back in the engineer Tolita's house. I have no illusions that I'd be one of her unliving servants had you not shown up."

Oios sits at the desk of the vanished Darohm, exhausted himself, he turns the model canoe over and over in his hands. He knows it's magical from his divination but if he's too fatigued to figure out the purpose he resolves to have it sent to Imix or Nat to examine.

There is no need for thanks Lady Bellet. I have always done what I thought was necessary to protect the Three Peoples... for all the good that did. He takes a deep sigh and plops the canoe back onto the desk, frustrated. I grieve that I was not quick enough to save your retinue. They were good people and their loyalty to you does you credit.

He hesitates, it was odd enough to share his duty with the Lady, but to have an actual civil conversation with the woman whose son he had condemned to death was, in some ways, the strangest thing that had happened to him. And that was saying quite a bit.

For that.. and for any other mistakes I made or will make.. I will answer to Damballah. I only pray that I will be able to get the Flight to safety before that time comes. I think it is all I have left.

===============
Istiel, Desnus 12 - 14
===============

The next day after finding your first totem, you find another. As was the first, and the others that you will find, the totem faces the cliffside; a small wood and reed statue, topped this time with a muskrat skull. This one is accompanied with a symbol; a stick arrow, three branches lashed together with reed, its tip pointing to the top of the cliff.

The butt-end of the arrow is planted into the soft marsh ground, its shaft sticking from the ground at an angle; the other end, the point, rests on top of your candlerod. The arrow points, near as you can estimate, to the stairs up the cliff wall.

Traveling through the swamp, though the flora is sickly, and the fauna is scarce, does remind you of happier times; field trips with Domnhall and the other monks into the forest now above you, and many way-stops by its rivers and associated wetlands. That the memories of those trips should prove themselves so valuable now is a bit surprising, but certainly not unwelcome.

===============
Istiel, Desnus 15 - 18
===============

Suuha smiles, picking up a vial. "I've discovered a lot, actually. There's a lot of regents here; most of it is just folklore stuff, you know? This for a cough, that for a fever, and whatnot. At least to us its folkloric. But, that's curious, right? Why does a bunch of unliving rakkers need these things?"

"I think this room was used for two purposes. One, it would keep the living alive, which was important for purpose two: experimentation. I think this Yd fellow was trying to build new and unheard of things, not through magic - though I'm sure that played a part - but through alchemy."

The monk shrugs. "But, more research is needed. Care to join me? It'll be like old times. Except much, much creepier."

===============
Imix, Desnus 13
===============

For a long time Imix stands, thinking. Remembering his childhood. Chukix had been with him from the first day. Helping. Guiding. Teaching. Imix had lost his first fight with Chukix on the third day, and there had never been a second.
Memories were retrieved one after another. All of them involved Chukix. All of them, now, showed the cobweb of control they had placed over the uncontrollable.
'Of course they had contingencies in case I went rogue' he realises bitterly. He tenses, but a moment later another memory occurs - this one more recent. Chukix, pottering around the chamber while Imix slept. 'He could have killed me this morning. Should have, if he was being rational.'

Imix would scoff at the suggestion he was irrational, but part of him desperately hopes Chukix is something more than a contingency.

In perfectly clear speech he talks. "We are all tools, in the end. I accept the old ways are gone. Our survival is on a knife edge as it is - there is not room for either revenge or secrets. Give me" Imix pauses and indicates the children "Give us all the truth. Confess all. I will give you my absolution and seek no revenge for that which you say now."

===============
Istiel, Desnus 12 - 14
===============

Istiel walks up to the newly discovered totem, crossing her arms and staring at its composition for several moments.

The monk ends up shrugging, having only a few guesses what it means. They tell us to go back. Or this symbol is to ward off the Darhom. We can not go back. We either pass peacefully or forcefully. She decides to continue passing messages between whomever she's communicating with in hopes of some kind of understanding occuring.

Istiel pulls her candlerod from the mud, this time placing it past the totems and into the supposed Beastmen's territory. She breaks the flint tip off of a javelin and affixins the shaft perpendicular to the candlerod with silk twine, pointing south. The flint speartip is placed on the ground where her candlerod originally stood.

Admiring her handiwork for a moment, she nods and returns to her canoe. We move through their lands. But it is no invasion. Domhnall would be pleased. This is the way of the snake.

Her journies through the marshlands yield more information than she was expecting. Given the sheer volume of water pouring from the Cheya she expected more waterways, but instead the land seems to be all stagnant marsh.

The entire area seemed unfriendly to human life, and she concluded the Flight should pass through this aerea as quickly as possible. The creatures that inhabit this marsh must be hardy. Stubborn. Or have no other choice.

===============
Istiel, Desnus 15 - 18
===============

Suuha's explanations of his finding are troubling, causing Istiel to nod her head in thankfulness that Yd is gone. "I fought these alchemical undead. Ogres that glowed green. Their blood a thick goop. They were strong. But we were stronger."

She begins looking through the vials, seeming to take up Suuha's offer to help without verbally affirming such. "We take what can help the living. Destroy anything used to make undead. This must not fall into the Flame's hands. They already dabble in unholy things."

===============
Nat, Desnus 11 - 18
===============

Cogsward nods, his face creased with worry. "A few of us brought her up, tidied up the room in case she's going to be here a bit. Ralsa, Norna, Tipchix, Lice, Nando, myself." Good man or no, you see Cogsward unconsciously backing away from the chasqui.

Issy, covering her mouth with her cloak, begins digging into a small woven satchel at her side. "Ground cattail, for fever. A simple mud facial will help with nausea, focus the mind. So should some swamp moss, steeped in hot water" The girl pulls a stone mortar and pestle from her pack, sets it on a small bedside table. "I've got some moss here. Mud and cattail should be easy enough to find." Issy gives you a furtive glance, a look of hoping for affirmation, fear of displeasure.

Nando and Paola exchange a furtive glance; neither is exactly forthcoming. Nando shrugs, his voice slightly trembling. "We've not been anywhere near the places Oios says not to go!"

In the end, it is easy enough for you, such a skilled healer, to discern what is going on with the chasqui.

Nat gives a wry half-smile as she realises what the 'problem' is. "Not to worry, there's no danger of fever." She turns to Issy. "You're quoyte royte, and we'll make a healer out of you yet; but you can put those things away for now, girl; there's no infection here. And besoydes, some of them would be harmful for someone in her condition..."

She turns briskly to Cogsward. "Thanks for coming to foynd me. There's no danger, so don't let me keep you. Oy'm sure you've got things to do." She gives him a meaningful look: This doesn't concern you any more.

She waits, somewhat patiently, for everyone to take the hint and leave. Once it's just herself and the two chasqui (plus Issy, of course), she sits down on the floor, taking the weight off her legs. "You're with choyld, Paola. Oy can make a guess as to how far along you are, but you probably have a better oydea than Oy do as to how long you've been feeling out of sorts."

She looks at Nando. "Oy take it you're the father?"

===============
Drazan, Desnus 12 - 18
===============

BARRACKS
Drazan stows the box for later tinkering, fighting the memory of Rigel as the answer to unlock it for him. "No. Appius was a old fighter that won his battles with cleverness. He won every match against another gladiator in the pits of Peklenc before he had even stepped into the ring. He taught me that the first few seconds of every fight are the most important. Play to your strengths and hold back nothing...

SHIELDROOM

Drazan's thoughts repeated his words from his talk of Appis,
demonstrating as he goes, Conflict is not always about the physical strength. Yes, when you swing an axe or pierce with a spear, you must strike with enough force and technique to kill the enemy behind your enemy, but even before your strike is complete, know your next move and more importantly your enemy's next move. If a horde came for us here, their numbers would mean nothing. The choke point means only a few can reach us at once. With a handful of capable men and axes I would cut through them until their bodies piled high giving us the upper hand forcing them to climb over their dead only to be at the mercy my warriors. With spears and shields,
they would smash into a wall of wood as every thrust of the spear fells them two as a time. The hair of the spears will become thick with blood, adding weight to the thrust, every death making the spear more deadly until its perfection. Always learn to use your surroundings to limit the options of your foe.

FYORGE

Picking up a danglestock Drazan grunts his approval, I am pleased that this works best. Speak with Oios about protecting the rubbings. The days ahead, if they are anything like recent days, will be wet and you do not want to lose the efforts to the moisture of the falls or more swamp. If he doesn't have a way, give your drawings to me and gods willing, I'll fly them down when we leave this place.

===============
Oios, Desnus 12 - 14
===============

The Lady again closes her eyes and leans back in the chair. Keeping her eyes closed, Bellet turns her head away from you and speaks, her voice choked with sorrow. "Antuk was a good man. I miss him dearly. And every minute... I know that my son was not a good man. But he was my son, none-the-less. I don't know that I can ever forgive you for that, Shadow."

Opening her eyes, the Lady stands and pulls absently at the sleeves of her shirt. "Still, you've done well, Oios. Many are here today, and not dead or enslaved, because of you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have tired of libraries. I need to find a new soldier-captain. They are an unruly and rudderless lot with Antuk around."

Nodding her head, Lady Bellet turns towards the exit. "Praise Damballah, you'll guide the Flight to safety."

===============
Imix, Desnus 13
===============

"Did you know," Chukix says, relaxing his grip on the kukris, "That there is a tenement building on Father's Mound, that leans up against the mound's inner wall? Probably not - there is no mention in Suriname Home of this tenement, and it is not particularly striking; it sits in one of the crumbling neighborhoods of that mound, Father's Mound alone having a purpose for the destitute of all of Cornucopia's mounds, this tenement would be out of place anywhere else where the city's elites dwell. Or dwelled, I suppose. This tenement is three stories, and shabby around the edges - faced with chipped stone, long sagging and settled. There is a small wooden sign that hangs above the front entrance to the tenement - Keeper's Home it says."

"And then Harambe disappeared, his Keeper murdered in the night. A new Suriname was needed. And so Suriname Imix was called forth."

Chukix looks to you, his gaze cool.

"Perhaps it is more accurate to say that Suriname Imix was created. And the boy Alekuk, now a man, became offically a Suriname's Keeper."

"I have nothing to confess, Suriname. I have served you faithfully, while learning everything that you have known, in case my duty - my most sacred duty - was called upon, for I alone should know you better than even yourself. The call never came, and here we are, entombed in the earth, in a humid cavern, chasing ghosts."

Imix freezes again, then backs away and starts pacing. Suriname instincts are crocodillian - freezing is an attack response rather than a prey response as it is in some mammals. Energy is always conserved. A stationary Suriname is waiting for an opportunity, whereas a pacing Suriname is making a deliberate attempt to appear nonthreatening.

His third eyelid nictates - sure sign that he is deep in thought. Imix follows the chains of logic to their conclusions before speaking.

Finally he stops, resumes his human form, and continues to pace.

"It is ruthlessly cold blooded. Creating an assassin to ensure Suriname stay within accepted behaviour, then ensuring they are accepted as an ally before critical thinking is developed." Imix sighs "I cannot condemn it though. The Suriname I know of that went rogue all but shattered the empire before they were brought down. I suspect this Harambe, when he went rogue, started this resurgence of the First Flame. Succeeded in destroying those he thought of as enemies. Retrospectively he proved the wisdom of the policy."

"From your wording I take it you have sworn oaths, and this as close to bypassing them as you feel you can come. I will try to avoid further questions, then."

"I have underestimated you... Alekuk? Chukix? I do wonder if there is a significance to the name change - go by whichever you prefer and I will accept it."

"I wonder, now, how much of my 'instinctive' behaviour is actually inculcated to make me tractable. I see I will have to revisit my assumptions - when I have the time." He pauses, then resumes pacing "I must ask one question. I have no love for being the monster. I see the joy most people have, joy I was told was denied to me. Is it? Is there a way for me to stop being a Suriname? To become more like a normal man - or even a Beastouched?"

===============
Istiel, Desnus 12 - 14
===============

The next day finds no further communications; your flint javelin head remains pointing south.

===============
Istiel, Desnus 15 - 18
===============

Suuha nods and smiles. "Agreed, Ist! Well, we best get work. There's going to be a lot of... sifting. And even more... labeling. Pull up a stool, and grab a quill."

That such mundane tasks have never been your favorite apparently gives great mirth to Suuha, judging by the smile carved across your friend's face.

===============
Nat, Desnus 11 - 18
===============

Cogsward nods, and placing his worn hat atop his head, turns and leaves, the faintest smile playing across his lips as you say the word "condition."

Nando slaps his forehead when he hears the news. "Raaaaaaaaakkk me." Recovering quickly, he stammers out a joking apology to Paola, gripping her hand. "Rakk us, I mean."

Paola, for her part, just seems flummoxed. "Less than a week, I've been feeling this. It comes and goes."

===============
Drazan, Desnus 12 - 18
===============

SHIELDROOM

Taking your words as gospel, the soldiers spend the day running through drills, working with the chokepoints, and forming walls of wood and stone. By the end of the week, they've formulated some basic military strategy for fighting in close quarters, and Aktuk has them operating at peak form.

Wiping the sweat from his brow with a silk cloth, a young warrior named Remy turns to you. "Will you be training with us next week?"

FYORGE

"Will do, uh... master?" Fulton scratches his chin. "Is that an appropriate form of address for a man from Fire Peaks?"

===============
Imix, Desnus 13
===============

Chukix shrugs. "I have been Chukix a long time. I will remain Chukix. I suspect that our name change serves the same purpose as those that the monks undertake - to sever one from his or her old life."

"As for your nature? Do you ask a paint brush why it paints what it paints? I am a tool, nothing more. That is a question I cannot answer."

Drazan appraised the efforts of the day before he answers, I just might. There are some new metal weapons I would like to train with. The entire purpose of them seems to drive the strike toward a single point, referring to the adamantine picks.

I would also see benefit in including the other two mountain men aiding in this training. How disciplined are these men? I don't want men owing a debt to me killed. Drazan added the last part without so much as belief but knowing the value of debts to what was once Three People.

Upgrade Rheumy and Bolt even? I would like to get all guards off that initial timid penalty if possible, if they are not already.

FYORGE
Hm, Master is not an unheard title in the Fire Peaks, but I do not want slaves nor am I training you in a particular skill that I have years of experience in. Im an artisan of violence and destruction where as you create with your craft. Heh. Drazan will have to do.

Nat gives a reassuring nod. "Perfectly normal. Chances are, you'll adjust and be foyne in another day or so. If the sickness continues, Oy've got some herbs that'll manage it. Of course, eventually you'll have to take it easier, but that's some months away yet." Nat doesn't hold with the Cornucopian ideas of confinement: the Tooyah stay active right up until the last month, if at all possible.

She gives the girl - and the man - some time to take it all in. The important thing is to keep them calm, and the best way of doing that is to be calm herself. This is nothing she hasn't seen before, and being a chasqui means that Paola is in good shape. There's nothing she has to be worried about.

She hopes.

"Anyway, Oy'm sure you've got a lot to think about so Oy'll leave you to it, but if you need anything, come and foynd me. Oy'd much rather a wasted journey than be absent when needed, alroyt? Now, before Oy go, do oyther of you have any questions?"

Imix puts forth his hand "Very well, Chukix. It is good to meet you. Let there be peace between us."

He turns to the children "Is everyone alright? As Suriname you will learn secrets. Keep this one, for now. We will need to decide who should know."

On the night of the 18th Oios gathers together those leaders of The Flight who had cleansed the ruins of the ancient city which they now inhabited and were now in charge of looting it of its secrets.

It has been a productive week for all of us I trust? Perhaps we can go over and share all of what we have found or done over the last seven days. I will go first. An academic could spend lifetimes delving through the library but I along with the Excise Head and the Lady Bellet, have managed to create a rough catalogue of it. The boy Fulton's notes have been invaluable to this. All of it is fascinating. I believe one more week of work and I will have a deeper understanding of works that might be of immediate use to us and those which should be preserved to study when The Flight has successfully ended Damballah will it to be so. Oios takes a deep sigh There is no magic in the room, save for one object, a toy model of a canoe. I have been unable to determine what the nature of the magic is, perhaps someone else can.

Oios looks at the others How has everyone else fared?

Drazan reveals the box he found in the barracks firmly placing it down in the center of everyone, I have this but it has remained locked. Also I've been spending time training the warriors and learning about the fyorge along side Fulton. I want to leave the fyorge in ruin before we leave so the Heretical First Flame misses out on the secrets there. I expect to recreate the fyorge wherever the flight ends up. After we have located the origin of these strange minerals of course. Weapons of metal will be key to retaking our homes one day.

"The spiral room is a place of magic. I believe it was used to create the Nargun. If I can deduce how to use it we may be able to manufacture our on army to rival the Frozen." Imix adds casually.

The Flame could use it as well. I believe Drazan has the right idea. After you deduce how it works, can you the most valuable components of it be packed to be taken by the Flight while the rest is destroyed? Olos asks Imix And this toy model of a canoe. Can you deduce its purpose?

Istiel's summary of multiple days of scouting is brief. "The land to the south is a thick marsh. Hot. Buggy. Unfriendly. But navigable. There are territorial creatures in this marsh. They left totems for me to see. They pointed towards the steps below the falls. They must know of this place. I did not hide my tracks. They know we are coming. They may fight. They may talk. I do not know."

She outlines her plans for the coming week. "I will be patroling the north for any signs of the Flame. If they send scouts I will ensure they do not return."

I don't like not knowing. We should head out there and learn what they might do before the flight walks into their territroy.

"I'm happy to study the canoe. I doubt the room can be recreated elsewhere, but perhaps with further study I can deduce a way." Imix agrees amiably "As for the swamp; if we have lost the element of surprise then we must gather information before we proceed."

Istiel seems nonplused. Given the reputation of the Beastmen, she is already prepared to cow them with her might when diplomacy fails. "I did not see their dwellings. But they patrol their borders. If we signal them with fire or smoke they will come."

Hrm. Perhaps there is something about these beings in the books.

=============
Drazan, Desnus 19-25
=============

The fyorge proves to be problematic. It seems Yd and his family had little use for it over the centuries, and it has long fallen into disuse. Looking over the schematics with Fulton, you find, as the week goes on, a collapsed flue becomes apparent, as does a rusted firebelly. Fulton looks at you, sheepish, still uncomfortable with the lack of honorifics. "We'll get it going, um, Drazan."

The work is dirty, each day seeing you covered from top to foot with grime and centuries old soot. Still, at the end of the week, a fire burns in the firebelly, freshly scrubbed and oiled by the weaponsmith. It grows almost unbearably hot - to Fulton at any rate. The coals within - a fuel source stacked tall against one wall of the fyorgeroom - glowing pits of pure molten fire. Fulton grins. "Now, what do we want to do with it?"

On Wealday, while rebuilding the chimney flue, you stoop and remove yourself from the chimney to find Lijart standing in the doorway to the fyorgeshop, watching intently. Like many of the common folk, he wears a floppy reed hat, and he keeps it balled in his hands as he watches you, a universal sign for nervousness.

=============
Oios, Desnus 19-25
===============

The Lady has moved onto other pursuits, but Texikuk continues working the week in the library with you, her lithe frame perched atop rolling ladders or hunched over the library's work tables, leafing through the various tomes as the week goes on. The library was basically organized by subject, but it was almost as if over time the organization stopped, and towards the end of the shelving books of random subjects appear. Perhaps, after centuries, with nothing left to add, Yd and his family had little use for a scheme, every book's place memorized.

In addition to works on the kingdom of the Darohm, the library also has an extensive amount of detailed writings on magic, engineering, and nature. You begin to delve deeper into the works as the week goes on, Tex being instructed to look for maps, of which you find many.

There's maps of ancient cities, and the lands the Darohm inhabited, as well as maps of the lands of "the Eldeleth" and the Baunti Valley (though it was just called "The Riches" by the Darohm). There are maps of trade routes, both above and below the ground, stretching between the cities. How much use these maps have since the cataclysm is hard to say.

Of the Beastmen, there is no mention that you can find in any of the books. It seems they were a more recent arrival on the scene, after the mighty Darohm empire waned.

The first day of the week finds Telowo giving you a visit. He brings smoked gar and mate, and settles into one of the chairs for lunch. "How goes it, old friend?"

=============
Drazan, Desnus 19-25
=============
Drazan sweaty and dirty from hard work grabs up a rag blackened from use to wipe his hands and lay eyes on Lijart. Something wrong Lijart? What troubles you this day? Drazan asked, though he already knew the answer.

=============
Imix, Desnus 19-25
===============

The week previous, you, Chukix, and the students had reached the opinion that the room was intended to create, to bind, the Nargun. With more study, you realize that it isn't exactly right.

The writing, runic carvings in the same author's unsteady hand as that in the entrance tower above you, reveals more secrets the longer you all work at it. The ritual, when completed, will pull the spirit of a Nargun, taking it from the more pure state of the earth, and along the ley lines, into a rock "body" powered by an adamantine "heart." These pulled Nargun are powerful creatures, you gather from reading the writers' notes, but they are still weaker than a true Nargun.

This adamantine, you gather, is the metal being mined by the living dead within the mines of this very Darohm city.

---------------

One morning, you awake to find the children gone, all of them. Stepping over Chukix's still sleeping form (in the hallway - your keeper took you up on your offer), you make haste to the city below. No one has seen the children.

Then, an uncomfortable feeling rising in your chest, you make your way upwards, towards the tower. Once there, you find Sarre standing watch, her bow momentarily forgotten. Seeing you, she nods towards the lake.

There, are the children, thankfully unharmed. And next to them, a life-sized canoe, with life-sized paddles, an exact replica it seems, of the model canoe that should be in your bag. Which of course, it is not.

The children are jubilant, as children are when making a discovery, until Selma notices you, and tugs on Tepix's shirt. Turning to see you, the children pale. Mossy stammers, pointing to Tepix. "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, his idea!"

=============
Istiel, Desnus 19-25
===============

You and Scree range far and wide throughout the week, starting by heading south, and then, working in progressively larger concentric half-circles, heading to the north, ending each day at the cliffside.

Scree, for her part, seems to enjoy herself. And like you, she is a woman of few words. On Wealday, she spies a jackrabbit munching happily among some underbrush. Holding a finger to her fearsome mask's mouth - the universal sign for quiet!, she disappears into the brush, making no noise as she does so. Then with a flash, she explodes from her hiding spot, grasping the startled rabbit around its neck and flinging it into a tree, where it falls to the ground, dead.

Wordlessly, she goes and picks up your dinner, but you can feel the smile beneath her mask.

---------

Midweek finds you ranging again closer to the tower, closing the circles. Desnus 25, the end of the week, you stand atop a hill, finding an alarming sight. A campsite of sorts lies here; while there is no fire, there are obviously recent tracks, the indentations in the dirt of a boot's heel here, scuffling along the ground there. A couple of broken branches suggest someone - or thing - has been in a nearby tree. Hoisting yourself into the tall tiger elm, you make your upwards, until you find yourself breaking above the treeline, with a clear view to the east. To the east lies the lake, and just within the mist from the falls, you see the outline of the tower.