Kahtia is relieved when Drot'ook joins the two women, and when Gärwin and Charles also arrive. The Paladin loans them all his divine strength, she is finally able to stand on her own, clear-eyed and lucid. She hasn't the heart to tell Charlemange that his New God holds nary a drop of power, that it's actually Charles and others like him who personally fuel their magics of healing and protection. Absurdly, one of Master Kiasa's lectures comes back to the woman, one that posited a terrifying origin for Astrid and the god she praised.
Wincing a bit as her ribs ache rather suddenly, the mage reaches out to touch Gär's smooth cheek with the palm of her hand, then she looks up at the yawning fissure above them. A more demure woman might shy away from her relatively new companions when standing barefoot and naked in the night, but Kahtia shows no signs of self-consciousness. Nor does she intend to respond to Charles' demand for answers.
"Your beard," she says softly in her lightly accented way, her hand still on his face, "and that... thing, that hole -- it's as though reality itself is being unmade. That is the Void we are seeing... pure entropy. We will all be undone if we can't close this breach. Not just the people of Oasis, but everyone in the north... everyone on Rûl. Our most ancient foes will spill through that crack if we let them, and that spill will quickly become a flood that will drown the world."
Finally withdrawing her hand from Gärwin's face, the tattooed wizardess looked towards the center of the town, to where she'd previously seen its fountains. "Does the genie yet live? Some believe genies are Urth's architects. This one might know how to close this fissure..."
Gärwin was troubled by his lack of a beard, but more so by the charred, angry looking skin of Khatia. With his one free hand, he fished into his bag and withdrew a potion, one of the only surviving items he had. "Khatia, please, take this. It 'hurts jes to look at yah like that." His voice broke as his mind sank with guilt. She might never recover from this and it might be all my fault.
His mind snapped into action, Charles had said something, something about this happening before. "What happened, Charles! Have you seen this before? How did you fix it?"
Tess is about to argue for abandoning Oasis to its fate until Kahtia reminds them that the rift threatens everything and everybody. "Gods damn it," she mutters.
She pulls off the tattered remains of her cloak and wraps it around the wizard to give her some semblance of dignity before turning to the weird, hairless Garwin. "Something like this happened in Asylum a few years ago. A cultist opened up a small rift in the middle of town. We closed it by throwing him into the rift. Even if we have a cultist to spare, I don't think it's going to work this time."
The girl looks off towards the town's namesake as she casts a spell to harden her skin. "Asking a genie sounds like as good an idea as any. Let's go."
Before they depart, Tesswyn takes Kahtia's hand and performs a reading of her palm to help her survive the coming trials.
Drot confirms Tesswyn's assessment of the situation.
"The portal in Asylum required a sacrifice of blood to close, it was just as easy to put the cultist who opened it through, so Regulus and I did just that..."
Kahtia and Tesswyn's mention of a genie reminded Drot of his original instinct when he woke. Getting to the healing waters felt like the right thing to do, so he followed as quickly as he could.
"I'm... I'm so sorry..."
Kahtia's eyes are again on the rift as she says, "That... may require a lot of blood. She is intimately familiar with blood sacrifices, and hopes there is a different way to close the rend.
The immediacy of the danger has adrenaline pumping and senses bristling, but the mage can't help but look at Drot'ook warily.
Had the staff been in control, or was that Drot'ook all along?
As the others talked, Charles put a hand to his head as he felt where the burning sensation was where his left ear should be. There was no ear. He wasn't sure if it had been cut off when he'd been flung into the tents or it had been blasted off during the explosions.
He turned his attention back to the others as Garwin said his name. His anger at the dwarf hadn't dissipated but he knew it was fruitless to keep it at the forefront of his mind. Plus there was whatever had happened between Drot'ook and Kahtia and Tesswyn. His answers would have to wait.
"It's like they said, a blood sacrifice or maybe the one who opened it needed to be brought through it. If what Kahtia said is true, then we'll need the genie's aid, assuming we can get it. We brought this disaster with us, so it's up to us to do whatever we can to mitigate it. I want to help as many townsfolk as we can but we have to be able to move under our own power first."
He walked close to the group again, grasping his holy symbol.
"May the power of the New God heal your wounds."
Most people are still alive, although everyone has changed in some form or another. The influence of the void is strong here.
One of the buildings has collapsed, the other five are still standing, but damaged.
Most of the tents are damaged, collapsed, or blown over in some capacity. Very few stand.
There's only a little actual death here. Whoever was in that collapsed building - the Silver Sands - likely didn't survive. And whoever was the closest to the detonations didn't survive; unfortunately for the first one that included a portion of the mob. Near where the group currently is at, there's dozens of bodies scattered about.
It's still just minutes after everything went to s@&@, so those who have survived are still gathering their bearings.
Gärwin looked at the shimmering void for a good while before speaking to Charles again. "Oi, Charles, I'm seem t' have misplaced my only weapon, do you mind helpin' Drot'ook while I look for one?"
The dwarf's voice is calm, as if any anger he may have felt has simply faded away.
He searches around, looking for a weapon. He was fairly sure he'd need it soon. Finding a curved sword the one of the guards might have been carrying, he tested the edge. Still sharp.
As the others continued to talk amongst themselves about the genie and what could be done, Gärwin was resolved. He took off his pack and tabard and said something to himself. "Sometimes, you must purge things from this world... even if it means losing someone you love."
He'd said it dozens of times to himself and now the words rung in his head, it was time to make good and make amends.
Before anyone could stop him, the dwarf leaped into the portal and was gone.
Before anyone has a chance to act, Gärwin leaps into the portal, jumping beyond into the Void. You see him floating out there, beyond the doorway. He slowly turns and smiles as the void tear seals shut.
And reality turns back to normal before anything worse can happen.
Tesswyn is too stunned to move as Garwin leaps into the portal. She gets a last glimpse of the hairless hero before the rift in reality closes, forever separating her from her friend.
"No! No..." she whimpers, falling to her knees. "You idiot. You godsdamn idiot..." She holds her face in her hands and she weeps.
"Even if it means losing someone you love."
Those words that his friend often said perked up the orc's ears. He quickly looked around to see where the knight was but it was too late. He had flung himself into the void and Drot's heart sunk. He knew there was nothing more honorable the dwarf could have done, but that did not keep him from silently weeping for one of his only true friends...
Charles saw it happen, he couldn't have guessed what Garwin was about to do. He'd imagined the dwarf, always ready to guard people and help protect others was looking for an excuse to not talk to Charles while the they were obviously upset at each other.
He imagined that Garwin, now mostly recovered and strengthened with Charles magic, would have said something foolishly brave like he would guard the portal threshold against anything that might try to step through to their world. That he would let the rest of them deal with trying to get the genies help or rally whatever defenders they could against the tear with him as the bulwark.
Charles had been upset, he had wanted Garwin to atone for his actions, but he hadn't been about to let Garwin do it alone. So when Garwin removed his pack and tabard, found a blade, and kept marching forth, picking up into a run and leaping through the portal Charles was left staggered. He suddenly wished he hadn't confirmed anything about the portal from Asylum. Then the rift closed.
After several long moments of staring, Charles walked over silently to where Garwin had abandoned his pack. He picked up the dwarf's tabard, looking down at it and the knightly Crest upon it. As the minutes dragged on all he had learned about the dwarf's hard life was coming back to him. There were pieces missing of course, things he hadn't learned and he was sad now he would never know the rest. But he knew enough.
Charles began speaking, slowly his voice began to become louder, booming out clearly but without shouting, eventually it was cutting across all language barriers
"If there is any justice in this world, if you have any power outside this existence, whether you are Astrid or the New God, you will intercede on my behalf and see Garwin Gildenbeard's soul safely to the afterlife.
I should've said these things while you were here, but despite my anger, despite our differences, I have nothing but respect for you. You showed me that true power doesn't come simply from magic or relics of the past, it comes from the actions one is willing to take, and to the very end, Garwin Gildenbeard, you were a shield of these people. I hope you knew... know that.
If we can learn anything from you, it's that this world needs protecting and that it is worth risking our lives for all the little moments of peace and laughter that can be had... oh and for drinks of course.
Garwin, you saw a subtle evil creeping back into the world and you did what had to be done to stop it, even when your actions caused it to reveal it's true nature and chaos spread all around, you never stopped moving forward against it. Very few in this world can say that they would have done what you did and meant it. Fewer still would have the courage to follow through. You were more than just a knight to this land, you were a hero to us all..."
"Goodbye my friend." Charles voice dropped back to his normal volume as he said the last part with a sob.
This marks the end of a truly harrowing and dangerous journey. A journey fraught with peril, with death behind every corner. But everyone survived. Everyone was ok as you trudged back into the small oasis town.
That was until an argument ensued, which set off a chain of events that would change the face of Oasis for years to come. A chain of events that ended in the death of many - but one particular death of a dear friend.
As the hours went on, everyone got to work trying to help people. There's not a single person unaffected by the events of the night. But there are many who are pitching in to help the wounded. Or at least appear to help the wounded while they actually prey on them. Because some people are just a!***#%s.
Downtime event: 11→15. You worked. You earned some. You lived the comfortable lifestyle.
Downtime: 7→20. An old enemy tried to kill you but failed. You suspect another attempt might be coming.
Your downtime event: 18→10. You were struck by lightning and have a nasty scar to show for it.
Downtime Event: 8->17. You tried to travel, but a storm or a natural disaster dashed your plans. You lost one item of the GM’s choice.
His adventuring pack
A map of the area around an unnamed village
A faintly magical tabard that can change color with the rise and fall of the sun.
A small medal for services rendered, clasped to the tabard
A small 2-person Tent
A worn and beaten Tinderbox
An empty scroll Case
A small metal lantern
Simple metal cutlery
His bedroll
A sturdy and well used pair of manacles
An unopened bottle of whiskey
And a pouch containing 4gc 7ss 15c
One last bit that never came up during roleplay. I've been keeping a strong tracking of it, waiting for the right moment to reveal it, but it just never came up.
That mask had one last negative effects: it consumed vitality.
Charles, your effective age has increased by 36 years.
I've been unable to make a post revealing such, because every time Charles had his mask off around other people who would notice, he's been covered in filth and gore. This will be revealed the first time Charles takes a bath. :)
On the other side, Drot has gained two points of Corruption. One point for each use of the Was Scepter. No marks of darkness were gained (if they were, they would have revealed the corruption during gameplay).
Months have passed, and the two friends - the educated orc and the pious human - have decided to go explore the old caves in which they narrowly escaped. The caves to which they escaped when the volcano went off and decimated the village they were living in. The caves in which a strange broodmother lived in lava and was worshipped by Salanders. The caves in which Charles last heard the Martyr directly speak to him. The caves with the gold.
And it was for the gold that they returned. Not for fighting evil or on a religious Hajj or to save someone beloved - but for the pure and base desire of riches.
And so they packed and headed out into the hills to find the entrance from which they barely escaped, leading thirty odd people from the horrors within. They did not know what they would find, but they hoped to find gold. They hoped to find that told abandoned dwarven smith's workshop where he poured molten gold over living people in pursuit of the most accurate statues. The workshop where the two friends lost one of their own as the wall lost its strength and the molten gold broke through.
They traveled for weeks to return to the general area and spent weeks more trying to find the cave itself. Once they found it, it became obvious why it was so challenging to locate - someone had moved in. And that someone took painful efforts to hide the entrance.
Confident in themselves, the two friends advanced into the hidden grove surrounding the cave's entrance. They crept closer and closer, unaware of the cold souless eyes watching their every move.
Charles and Drot are thrown into cages. They are taken out at sunset and sacrificed on the moon rise. The blood drains from a hundred cuts on their bodies, dripping into bowls which are used to paint elaborate symbols on the bodies of the strange people in some sort of blood ritual.
And then you wake.
The trio find themselves embroiled in chaos. The base camp is in ruins. Parts and supplies are strewn everywhere. Several tents are on fire. Blood splatters white tent fabric and rocks - and even the darker muddy ground if one looks hard enough.
There is a man on the ground bleeding, barely moving, barely conscious.
Beyond the camp you see a dense forest with large trees placed about and thick shrubbery taking up the space between them. It's easy to see the skies between some of the trees, but difficult to see far or travel on the ground.
When the trees thin enough to see the sky, you can see smoke coming from the camp. As you get closer, you hear a whomph sound. And suddenly, you see Tesswyn and Kahtia at the camp.
The camp is in ruins. Tools and equipment are strewn everywhere. You see blood splatters here and there. All your allies' are missing except Philip, who is gravely wounded and on the ground. A strange mechanical being - a clockwork (you've heard of those but may or may not have never seen one) with small sparks popping out of him at odd intervals. Drot instantly knows that these sparks are things which could cause fires.
The smell of blood assaults Tesswyn's nose as the trio appears in the ruined camp. The rogue's eyes widen as she takes in the bright crimson splatters against the white tents, the sounds of crackling fires roaring in her ears. "S#~%," she mutters.
Tess forces herself to focus as she rushes to the wounded man's side. She does what she can to aid him, looking for the source of his wounds. "What happened here?"
Mouse automatically draws his firearm, surprised at the sight of blood and corpses everywhere. He needed to know what caused this destruction. Tesswyn the moody one, was taking care of the wounded man, much to Mouse's surprise. She didn't seem to be the type that would study medicine, perhaps he needed to reassess his impression of her.
Mouse knows he can't help the wounded and simply looks around the camp for more survivors/enemies.
Kahtia, a little disoriented from the Travel incantation -- she wasn't quite ready when Tess began reading it -- tries to take stock of the situation as her friend falls to the wounded man.
"Search the area with me," she says to Mouse, wary that whatever attacked this camp is still nearby. "I'll take this side. Tesswyn... where have you taken us?"
Drot rushes up alongside Charles, baffled about what could have gone wrong.
"I explicitly told them not to touch the explosives! I don't care ho-"
Drot stopped short when he saw his dear sister and the skilled magician emerging from the forest. He was so baffled by what he was seeing that he almost missed the third "person" with them. That had to be a clockwork; he had recently read and extensive breakdown of their design and development.
"T- Tesswyn!"
When we was finally able to move he couldn't keep himself from rushing over to them, as fast as his artificial shin and foot would allow. The large, ever strong orc hoisted the two of them into a hug and lifted them off the ground.
"You're back! How!? The incantation? Are you hurt? I-... Whe-... We-... Ahem... Please start from the beginning?"
Whatever damage that befell the campsite, and the potential looming danger, seemed to slip Drot's mind as he focused solely on his companions' return.
Tesswyn looks up from the wounded man at Drot's shout. Tears come unbidden to her eyes at the sight of the hulking orc lumbering towards her. "Drot!"
Her bones pop slightly in his crushing embrace, but she cries and hugs him back as hard as she can. At length, he lets go, and once she's recovered her breath, she speaks.
"It's quite a long story. I don't think we have the time right now. But I dreamed that you were in danger, and I knew we had to come back right away. We literally just got here. We're fine. Are you okay?"
Mouse was surprised when a huge orc came running out of nowhere. The machine automatically followed the unknown orc's movement with its pistol, but doesn't pul the trigger. Instead, the clockwork backs up quickly and takes cover, watching from a distance.
Kahtia is surprised when the orc scoops her into his arms as well as Tesswyn -- his love for the auspex is well known, but the wizardess had wondered how much the events of six months ago had strained the fledgling relationship the two magic-lovers had been fostering.
Kaht can't speak while she's in the embrace, her body mashed against Drok'ook's and her breath taken away. When he finally sets them down, she straightens her garb and smiles. She looks good -- her dark hair has grown in and she now wears it in a short, attractive style, and beneath a long, beautifully embroidered red coat she wears an expensive, ivory-colored tunic that leaves a lot of leg and cleavage on display.
"We're well, Drot," she says warmly. She is about to say more, to ask after Charles, when she remembers Mouse. "He's a friend!" she says over to shoulder, still glowing at seeing her orc friend again.
The clockwork lowers its pistol, but does not put it away. Mouse rather shyly walked closer to the group of friends, standing just barely out of reach.
Tesswyn manages to stabilize Philip and prevent the muscled man from dying. Fortunately, she was able to complete her task before Drot nearly bowled her over, which could have easily killed her patient.
Mouse comes out of hiding with hesitance while Charles still looks on from the sidelines.
The fires still burn, and their crackling seem to be the only sounds beyond your own voices.
Thank you, Philip wheezes out, still clearly hurt.
When Kahtia addresses Drot, it is easy to see the shame almost instantly return to his face and his demeanor becomes reserved and apologetic.
"I am more than happy to hear that you are both well."
He says, with a genuine smile. When the mage hollers at someone behind her, Drot was reminded of the clockwork and his sparks!
"Uh... Sir! You're... Sparking?" He turns back to Kahtia. "He needs to move into the clearing here, this entire forest could be an inferno in a matter of moments if he catches anything on fire."
Unfortunately there wouldn't be time for him to address the machine's malfunctions, they had to find out what happened to the camp. Drot address his man on the ground, his condition looked critical.
"Phil?... Do you know what happened here? Where have the others gone?"
Phil takes a few heavy breaths, clutching his side as he tries to speak. We... We were attacked.. They... Came out of nowhere... Strange lizard people.. They took everyone... Don't.. know.. why i was spared.
Charles hurried after Drot'ook along the deer trail. When they arrived back at the wreckage of their camp and then he saw both Tesswyn and Kahtia.
He froze, a well of emotions he'd thought tempered by time and distance rose up within him. Surprise, shock, love, heartache, jealousy, anger, it all welled up and for several moments he was unable to move forward. But after Drot'ook embraced Tesswyn and began talking to Phil who was very wounded, he moved forward.
"Regardless, I'm glad your alive." Charles said loudly to Phil as he strode out from the trees to come stand close to Drot'ook and Phil while giving Tesswyn, Kahtia and the strange automotan with them an uncertain look.
"By the grace of the New God, heal his wounds."
As he prayed, he pulled out a healing potion and offered it to the man, before helping him up off the ground.
He then turned to regard the others who had literally popped back into their lives. He looked straight at Tesswyn.
"Tesswyn, you're here. I have so many questions. If this had been any other day... hell, any other hour.... What's going on? Why are you back now? ..." he wanted to say more but he held himself back for the moment.
Upon closer inspection, during the 6 months Charles had, he let his hair grow out, it had become more silver rather than simply drained white. Faint traces of his previous dark brown were still present. Despite his apparent age, he still held all the previous strength he had, perhaps more so now and he moved without the slight clumsiness that seemed to always pervade his steps. It was obvious to those with sharp gazes that underneath his hair, the missing ear had somehow come back.
Despite initial impressions of vampirism, the pale man did not burst into flame. In fact it seemed that the older man was some form of priest. His address of Tesswyn belied some form a familiarity, and the automaton surmised these were the allies they had come to aid.
Internally, Mouse felt a form of awe, these people, this group was like something out of the stories he'd heard not so long ago. An Orc, a Siren, a Witch and a Vampire! Though perhaps he himself was something akin to those stories as well.
A mix of different voices flowed from within the machine, repeating words spoken to the pale man. "-dreamed that you were in danger. Strange lizard people... -we just got here. With magic, of course." The automaton still kept his distance, weapon lowered but drawn.
"Charles..." Tesswyn starts, then she falls quiet. Myriad emotions war across her face as well as she takes in the priest's appearance. For her part, Tess looks much the same, if a little bit older and wearier. She has replaced her old soft leathers for a sturdier suit of armor, and her staff has been replaced by a curved sword and shield.
She glances at Mouse when the clockwork speaks, then turns back to Charles. "What happens to us is a long story, best saved for another time. My dreams warned me that you needed help, and even after all this time, you remain close to my heart. I would not abandon you to a dark fate."
The girl lowers her eyes. "I'm sorry for the way I left. You deserved better than that. I swear I will make it up to you."
Kahtia watches Tess as she struggles with her reunion. The former Tower Mage knew it would be difficult, and Charles' countenance has not made things easier.
"This is Mouse," the Woad woman says to Drot'ook, gesturing to the clockwork. "He has been a good traveling companion. We're quite fond of him."
When the moment is right, the tattooed sorceress makes eye contact with Charlemange, and volumes are exchanged between them in that look. "Charles, we meet again. It appears the intervening time has allowed you time to reflect and recover -- you look well."
Then, gesturing to the ruins of the encampment, she asks both of them, "This was your camp, that the lizardfolk attacked?"
Charles looked at the automaton as it spoke with its strange mixture of voices, he shook his head.
Then as Tesswyn spoke her apology he felt a pang shoot through his chest. "Yes, we'll have to talk about this later."
When Kahtia looked at him and spoke, pain turned to anger and his gaze locked with hers, he tried to remain calm but the emotions he had held back for months began to boil over.
"Kahtia... you... I've had so much time to reflect. Any other day and I would have it out with you right here!"
Tesswyn instinctively steps between Charles and Kahtia. "We all have made decisions that we regret. There will be time for yelling at each other later. Right now, we need to direct that anger towards rescuing everybody from the lizards."
Though it was painfully obvious Charles did not want to end the conversation there, he begrudgingly relented.
"Fine. You make a good point." he said, turning to Philip.
"Phil, did you see which direction they took the others?"
Philip groans relief as Charles heals him. Oh, that's so much better. Thank you, Sir Charles.
He gets up and grabs his pickaxe; Yes, they went this way. As best I can tell, they came in from the trees and from under the brush. But they left on foot carrying everyone out.
As he walks you over to where they left, you can see a fairly obvious trail breaking through the foliage.
Tesswyn clasps her holy symbol and protects herself with oak skin. She keeps the symbol in her off-hand for now as she draws her scimitar.
The rogue can feel the weight of the strange talismans in her pocket. She's yet to invoke the daemons' power, and she doesn't want to unless it becomes absolutely necessary.
"I'm ready to move out," she says.
Charles was about to begin following the trail after the things that attacked their camp when another spark occurred from the clockwork figure. He turned to it and stopped.
"Are you broken? Drot'ook, you're the one who works best with machines. Is this something that can be healed or can you do something about those sparks?"
It's late fall. November-ish. The weather is cold, but not cold enough to start snowing. The non-eveegreen trees have turned colors but the foliage is still somewhat thick. Leaves are falling, coating the ground in reds, yellows, and oranges.
For those of you who just teleported in, consider the climate difference between here and there.
"broken? Yes -As best as I can tell." With a whirr of his internals, the clockwork plays back some of the audio he'd since recorded. When asked about healing though, the machine simply shrugged, a universal sign of uncertainty.
Now that it was clear hostiles weren't up and about, Mouse holsters his firearm and quietly follows along. The sudden chill frosted the automaton's exterior but did little to slow its movements.
Kaht's gaze at Charles is unflinching, challenging, before Tess steps between them. "There will be no need for yelling," she says mildly, preparing to cast her own spells since it looks like action awaits them. Arcane Armor will have the additional effect of warming her skin -- their teleportation has landed them in a much cooler clime, and the woman is not dressed for the weather.
As they look for the trail, she asks, "Do we need steeds?"
Drot looks up from the clockwork's well crafted body with a glare towards Charles.
"Ah... Yes, thank you Charles, I'll begin looking at that now."
He says flatly, but with a toothy smirk.
Mouse was apprehensive as the towering orc walked towards him, taking a step back followed by several as he continued his advance. His arm flashed to his weapon, but does not grasp it, simply holding it over the firearm.
The orc frowns at Mouse, stops, and straightens up. Hands behind his back, clasped together, he realizes his mistake.
"My apologies, I've forgotten to introduce myself. I am Drot'ook, self proclaimed engineer and scholar. I'd like to gave a look at you, the sparks..."
"...Like that one, could very well set the dried underbrush of this forest on fire. We can't have that if you are to come with us, deeper into the woods."
A bored sounding official chimes up from somewhere in Mouse's body. "This is Assassination Android Model Three-... Mouse"
The last part is spoken with Kahtia's voice, though the audio is tinny and low quality. As it plays, Mouse slowly pulls his hands away from his weapon and raises them in a pleading manner. It takes another step back and then stops sparking. And stops moving altogether.
Drot looks at Mouse, then back to the others, and once again at Mouse. He points to the clockwork and cocks an eyebrow.
"Is... He going to be okay? Are you familiar with his key? It looks like he may need a wind up."
"...because I can conjure some if we need them," Kahtia finishes, as Drot looks at Mouse -- who suddenly isn't moving.
"I've been waiting for this to happen," she says to the orc, approaching. "He's magnificent, isn't he? Do you see his winding mechanism, Drot'ook?"
Level 2:
Spell (Grimoire II): CONJURE STEEDS (CONJURATION UTILITY 2)
Target A cube, 10 yards on a side, originating from a point within medium range and resting on a solid surface
Duration 2 hours
A group of 1d6 steeds (as horse) appear in the area. They can have any appearance you choose. The conjured steeds are friendly to you and become compelled by any creature that rides them. Sacrifice You can expend a casting of this spell to cast conjure small monster.
As Drot'ook starts looking for the clockwork's key, Kahtia produces her magestone and casts a spell she learned from Drusilla, the sea witch. Four beautiful horses appear, steeds that look like they are made from shadows and smoke, but that are solid to the touch.
"Have you found the trail?" she calls to Charles and Tess, mounting a shadow steed. "Drot should have Mouse working again in short order..."
"That way," Tesswyn declares as she climbs on board Kahtia's steed, settling in behind her with practiced ease. She waits for the others to mount up before the group heads out.
Mouse's key is wound and the clockwork comes back to life with a static spark that zaps the person who turned the key.
Moments after, Kahtia summons four horses.
Bah! Philip grunts. Horses ain't gonna do you no good here, Lady. Philip stubbornly moves out on foot - whether he proves to be right is yet to be seen.
Tesswyn mounts the horse behind Kahtia, leaving three horses for Mouse, Drot, and Charles.
Charles and Drot mention about the strange compound they witnessed just a few minutes before they heard the screams from the camp. Tesswyn recalls the same camp from her dream.
You head off into the forest in the cold fall day. It's colder than it normally is; the clear blue skies don't trap the heat and an added cold front came in to drop the temperatures down below what is typical for the season. Not that Kahtia or Mouse would know. Or notice.
You move away from the camp, following the easy trail of leaves brushed off branches as the miner-nappers. The trail leads right back to the fenced compound.
As she rides behind Kahtia, Tess takes her hand and performs a reading. Once they reach the compound, she scans the surroundings, ever alert for danger.
Looking over her shoulder, Kahtia smiles slyly as Tesswyn takes her hand a bit awkwardly to perform her reading. The familiar -- and welcome -- sensation washes over the mage, and she refocuses on the trail ahead, on the compound, on the surrounding trees on foliage.
Charles perception was keen as he followed along after the others.
"Yowch!..."
He shakes the feeling back into his hand, and grunts his disapproval.
"We still have to fix that, luckily I have my tools and a reference to lightening redirection..."
Drot quickly reads through his texts as the others get ready to move out. He takes note of the horses that Kahtia summons and asks that they both remember to discuss the structure of the spell and how the horse shape is produced so accurately.
"This will have to do for now Mr. Mouse, a walking stick of sorts. As you can see, I've wrapped it in a copper and steel spiral ending with a spike. When you feel the energy ready to spark, do make sure it's planted firmly in the ground. It should send the energy down the coil to dissipate in the dirt."
Drot beams with accomplishment as he holds the staff out to Mouse, offering it to him with a sense to urgency.
With Drot's mind in work-mode, he takes notice of Mouse's gun, as well as the untouched explosives that he had been worried about the crew getting into, when they came rushing back to camp.
In a stroke of intuitive genius, he breaks down various supplies into the basic components of ball barrings and black powder; handing it all to mouse as they rode.
"More ammo for your gun. If we don't get the crew back, we won't have use for any of that anyway."
Happy as can be, Drot continues on with the group.