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Struggling in the unaccustomed heat of the savannah, Krieger retrieves his wand of wand of endure elements. He tries to activate it himself, but on the fifth attempt there's an audible, unpleasant click. Crap.
Confronted with failure, he approaches the undine shaman, "Lady Callah, could you please activate this for me?"
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What the hell happened to Krieger? A noble in the city, but he spends a few days in the wild and seems to have lost his mind! Wilderness survival does strange things to humans.
Despite the heat's rapid escalation and what must be stuffy noble clothing, Faust seems most perturbed by the brightness of the sun. Damn orb, you ruin everything! Every couple of minutes, he sends a withering glare at it. As they travel on, he does his best to move quietly and even tries to make some sort of conversation with their ward.
"Do you do this sort of thing often? I've never hunt game before, my father had... different ideas of what was worthy of hunting. Made for more obvious tracks," he begins. The ones we chased down in the woods at any rate... When it becomes clear Stuinvolk wants nothing to do with where this conversation is going, Faust simply stops walking to allow space to form between them. At this rate, the Mzali finding us would be a godsend.
He starts his walking back up again with the man he thought was Krieger. "First time in the wild Krieger?" Faust asks.
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Impressed by the dhampir's stamina in the heat, the Foreigner responds in a strained, hoarse whisper, "Spent most of my life in the far north, Sir Faust Alhazred. A soldier in the army of Po La the Bureaucrat, Tian leader of Icestair, largest settlement in the Realm of the Mammoth Lords, wedged against the wall of ice that marks the edge of the Crown of the World."
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“Far be it for Aeliah to besmirch the honor of Callah’s Spirit-speaker’s male relatives and friends.”
"I think...I think I've given the wrong impression of my home,"
“Your community must possess a beauty and complexity to rival that of ‘The Tribe.’”
Aeliah smiles at the vision of the waterways and farming hamlets of Outsea she derives from Callah’s description.
“Short term tensions must be many in such a diverse settlement. But this would be more than offset by the strength afforded by many viewpoints and cultural wisdom orientated towards bettering one community.”
A thought strikes her. “This is not unlike the desired outcome of the policy of tolerance expounded by the Pathfinder Society, yes?”
“Perhaps I will discuss this joint resolve for improvement with the Stuinvolk.”
“Rather than a punishment, would a debt be sufficient?”
Aeliah’s eyes narrow. “My people see debt as neamhghlan (unclean) – a form of exploitation of the have-nots by the haves, begetting more inequality in society.”
The druidess pauses to consider Callah’s strange but noble words.
Now I see the matter from your eyes instead of my own ...
“But if you refer to the obligation familial members owe to each other, Callah Spirit-speaker, Aeliah can abide.”
The half-elf smiles and claps her hands together formally. “Though I do not recommend sealing the pact at this time.”
“The number of airborne pathogens likely to exist in this tropical environment, makes the co-mingling of our blood a risk to our own health and that of the mission.”
Aeliah apologizes sombrely. “Although unfortunate, I trust you can understand that this delay is necessary.”
Then she brightens. “However, once we return to Eleder I will delight in opening the palms of both our hands deeply.”
“Ehlenestra knows? Perhaps the enforced delay will increase the level of joy experienced at that time.”
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"This is not unlike the desired outcome of the policy of tolerance expounded by the Pathfinder Society, yes?"
"Perhaps I will discuss this joint resolve for improvement with the Stuinvolk."
"Yes, yes, exactly! That's a good way to put it," Callah agrees excitedly. "And that sort of approach just might work! We're all in this together, after all."
"...familial members...sealing the pact...co-mingling of our blood..."
Co-mingling blood...? Oh! A blood pact!
Callah certainly had to admit to herself that forming a blood pact with another agent was a surprising turn of events...but not an unwelcome one.
After all, we were just talking about joint resolve and familial bonds. And what's the Pathfinder Society but one very large, extended family?
"Then let it be done," Callah smiles. "When we return to Eleder."
And then without missing a beat, she turns around as Krieger...at least she was pretty sure he was still Krieger, addresses her.
"Yes, I'd be happy to help," she nods, taking the wand and bestowing its blessing on its owner. "You look like you're more at home out here than I would've thought."
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Faust looks at Krieger with surprise. "A soldier, eh? Dumont was a soldier and a damned good one at that. I was never much for following orders from people who were my 'superiors' simply by virtue of being part of an organization for longer, despite their incompetence. Dumont was a human though, so he didn't really have the benefit of just waiting them out," he explains.
"The Realm of the Mammoth Lords though? Haha that certainly explains why your city appearance has practically melted off of you! Forgive my ignorance, but what did you and your armies fight and defend in those frigid wastelands?"
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Forrest works on Stuin to the best of his ability during the day, trying to maintain a sense of aloofness and a containing of his normally large personality. "Uh... hey, man. Uh... watch my back while I go for a... uh... pee?" The halfling grunts at his attempt, and heads off into the grasses anyway.
Already sweating through his clothing, Which were meant for this heat! That salesman obviously oversold this fabric, Forrest smiles at Callah's offering. "Thank you, your respite would be much appreciated. And, while you are offering kind magics, would you take a look at this for me?" He digs out an old and battered wand from his pack. "It is supposed to heal, but I can never get the darn thing to work properly. Not quite as simple as a little potion, I suppose."
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As the sun sets it turns a beautiful red and seems bigger than normal. As he sets up his spot in the camp, Stuinvolk nods to Forrest acknowledging that he will indeed watch his back. It’s not much, but you sense that he’s pleased with the progress you’ve made today and with how quietly (most of) you were able to move through the tall grasses.
Night on the Mwangi savanna is oddly peaceful. The temperature drops to more comfortable levels, and the night sky spreads out above like a rich tapestry of wonder. Even the humming sounds of insects are oddly comforting. But, the sense of comfort ends when a emanates from somewhere out in the darkness during Aeliah’s watch. The cry is repeated, now having moved a quarter way around the camp’s perimeter faster than it seems possible—either there are numerous such creatures in the night, or one that is moving very quickly. The cry repeats a third time, now opposite where it was originally heard, and then a long, tense silence ensues. Against expectations, though, the creature does not circumnavigate the camp. After a few moments, the sound of insects resumes, though not anywhere near as comforting as before.
The tracks circle around the camp before veering off and eventually vanishing into thin air.
One or more of you might have heard something of this in your studies of arcane beasts, but without having seen it, it’s more difficult to ascertain exactly what it was.
It is a magical beast known as a mngwa.
When asked if he knows anything about the beast that awakened you all, Stuinvolk replies gruffly and tensely, his voice cracking. ”Those screams didn’t sound like an animal to you, did they?”
He looks around at each of you before continuing.
”They sounded just like the cries of my friends.... When they were being tortured.... Ten years ago.“
He stares off in the direction the last of the cries came from. ”No, I can’t explain it,” he says quietly to no one in particular.
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With the first scream, Faust's eyes snap open. Mngwa! Jumping awake, a flurry of movement occurs. While drawing his sword, he clutches the necklace around his neck, causing dark energy to flow into his body. Then he taps Dumont's skull and the faint, silvery wisp floats out. Bobbing around near the ground, it finally dives in. After a moment, a bony hand pushes out, which Faust grabs and helps out a clean skeleton that noticeably has the same skull as the one he introduced to you all at the mission briefing. "Mngwa, Dumont! There is no time to waste!"
Charging across the camp, the duo run until they reach the general area of the third cry, weapon and claws at the ready. When it becomes clear there isn't about to be a fight, Faust eases himself back a bit. "Dumont, keep an eye out for anything. If it comes from outside the camp, claw first and I'll ask questions later. I'll check in on the others."
Walking to Stuinvolk, Faust keeps his distance, not sure what to expect. "They sounded quite like an animal to me... Are you sure that's what you heard?"
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Callah smiles at Forrest as he passes by her and moves into the taller grass, pleased to see that the gregarious halfling was doing his best to rein in his outgoing nature out of respect for Stuinvolk's condition.
"That's one thing I've quickly grown to appreciate and respect since joining the Society - how quickly most everyone is able to band together to get things done," she remarks, speaking her thoughts aloud to no one in particular. "Even when things are tense. It's a wonderful thing, isn't it?"
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Though startled out of a relatively sound sleep, Callah is quick to reach for her longspear and scramble to her feet. She peers into the darkness, scanning the perimeter of the camp.
"Mngwa? Is that something we should be worried about, Faust?" she asks quietly, glancing over at the clearly-unnerved Stuinvolk. "Or would it be more scared of us than anything?"
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"That's one thing I've quickly grown to appreciate and respect since joining the Society - how quickly most everyone is able to band together to get things done"
“Indeed, Callah Spirit-speaker.”
Aeliah *sniffs* the light winds, as if trying to smell Mzali pursuers upwind. “Much of initial party formation is posturing and císte-tarbh.”
“Once rudaí gets real, truth comes to the fore and groups begin performing.”
☾
“Animalistic cries on the perimeter. Unknown number of opponents. Prepare yourself.”
Aeliah’s shake of your shoulder is firm but gentle, like she’s trying to deliver you to consciousness quickly and calmly.
After a moment studying your face intensely to ensure the message has been received, she leaps towards the next slumbering form, wayfinder ⚡flashing⚡ at her hip.
While Faust and Callah discuss the interloper’s name, which means nothing to her, Aeliah kneels calmly at the edge of the camp seeking its tracks.
"The tracks circle around the camp before veering off and vanishing."
”Those screams didn’t sound like an animal to you, did they?”
“That is exactly what they sounded like.”
Aeliah rises and nods to Faust, acknowledging his scholarship as she loads her sling. “Though the pale man believes they may be magical beasts.”
“Have similar cries been a portent for something you have experienced previously, Stuinvolk?”
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Despite his sympathy for Stuinvolk's inner turmoil, the Foreigner struggles to make an effective connection with the man.
The Foreigner, wakened by the eery screams, leaps from his bedroll reaching for his sword. He follows Aeliah to look for sign of the creature. When the druid finds tracks, he kneels down to take a look.
The Foreigner hears Stuinvolk's anguished reaction to the mysterious screams. He awaits the disfigured Pathfinder's response to Callah, before saying anything. Perhaps he'll reveal some clue regarding his plight.
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When Callah engages Stuinvolk, he seems to open up a bit. But only just a tiny bit. He talks a little about how he liked being part of a team, and how he enjoyed traveling in the Mwangi. Well, before everything went wrong…. Callah is sure that engaging him in a conversation about travel and foreign lands would help to get him thinking positively again.
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As the party scrambles to react to the screams of the mngwa, Faust tries to remember what the old man in the market in Eleder said. ”’Ware the mngwa if you’re searching for something taboo, my friend. They’re the incarnations of the most vile jungle spirits, and only come out at night.” Faust may have thought the old man was trying to scare him, but it seems there may have been some truth to his rambling.
As Faust approaches Stuinvolk to ask him about the cries he heard in the night, he catches the scarred and scared man mumbling to himself under his breath. The snatches of phrases he hears are all in Skald, and what he hears makes it clear that Stuinvolk has never encountered a mngwa before nor heard those haunting cries. Though he’s familiar with the same legends as Faust, he knows nothing else of them.
Faust gets the sense that perhaps speaking to him in his native tongue would help to remind him of his ancestry and the strength of his people.
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Faust looks down at the dirt before answering Callah's question. "It's an evil jungle spirit. Doubt it's fearful of us. I'd bet we will hear from that thing again, but it only comes out at night," he explains, reciting what he learned just prior to leaving Eleder. "If I had to guess, one of two things just happened," he says, holding up a finger. "The first, and what would be most fortuitous for us, is that it was passing through. Just a bit of bad luck for us." Raising another finger, he keeps going. "The second, it was toying with us. My father used to do the same thing when he hunted."
"I'm sure we could take it out together, but it seemed to have moved pretty damn quickly. I propose we keep watch in pairs from now on," he suggests before stepping up to Callah. "Our compass speaks Skald when under duress. Does that happen to be a language you know? He seems to have taken best to you. I'll spread the word to the others too."
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Forrest looks over to Stuinvolk, unable to read him. Instead, he turns to Faust. A little sleepy, he stumbles over the words. "Mngwa? You got something stuck in your throat there, buddy?" Seeing no one else phased by the skeleton walking around, he just swallows the pit in his throat and pulls out a holy symbol of iomedae on a necklace around his neck. "Uh... jungle spirit you say? Great..." He looks at his rapier with sadness. Stupid material weapon...
When Faust comes around asking about Skald, Forrest winks at him and replies quietly. "If it ain't halfling, it ain't worth knowing, mate." Walking away with a smirk, he decides to veer clear of the mumbling Stuinvolk. This fellow doesn't seem to take well to me, better keep my distance right now..
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"No, I don't," Callah whispers back to Faust and the others. "And while I've heard of some magics that will allow you to speak a tongue you don't actually know, it's something that's beyond my power to do."
"I think the best thing to do right now is to take precautions but otherwise carry on as normal," she adds. "If we act frightened then that will make things even worse for him. He seemed to brighten up a little earlier when he was talking about traveling so that might be a good go-to to keep his mind off darker things."
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Faust looks incredulously at Forrest's holy symbol, stifling a reflexive snarl. "That thing won't be necessary, Dumont and I are safe. Don't know how much good it'll be with the Mngwa either," he remarks. Probably the first time I've seen one of those without someone trying to burn me with it.
As each person informs him of the other languages they know, he nods understandingly and moves to the next. Might only be me... And he doesn't seem to care for me. Pulling him from his thoughts is Callah's words. "He doesn't need to know we've doubled the watch, but I agree that we don't need to show our hand. Tomorrow, I'll try to swap travel stories with him in Skald."
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“Aeliah is not frightened, Callah Spirit-speaker.”
The druidess’ tone is even and patient as she continues to scan the immediate surroundings.
“I speak only Elven, Taldane and Bad Taldane. That is joke, Faust Alhazred.”
“Northman Stuinvolk, feeling poorly while far from home is no fun. Aeliah knows.”
She nods gravely, though the others may notice a glint of mischief in her eyes. “You want to talk alienation, I happy to listen. Aeliah’s ears big, yes?”
When Aeliah makes a joke about her ears, Stuinvolk looks at her incredulously. And then he laughs. Aloud. The sound of his laughter is as out of character as the stoic half-elf’s two back-to-back jokes. And although he doesn’t laugh long, it is clear that it does indeed make him feel a little better.
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The rest of the night passes without incident. As the sun breaks the horizon, the party breaks their fast with cold meats, breads, and rations.
Having had a brief nap after his turn on shift, Faust recalls that mngwa are classified as magical beasts. He doesn't recall anyone having mentioned them being incorporeal. The image of them he has in his mind's eye is one of a large cat with stripes.
Stuinvolk again leads the way, weaving across the savanna in an attempt to avoid Mzali territory and any of their patrols. Although still quiet, he doesn’t seem as grumpy and withdrawn today.
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As the team breaks camp, the Foreigner does his best to conceal their presence there overnight.
When he's satisfied with his handiwork, he passes close to Stuinvolk, ready to resume the march.
"We survived the night, thanks in part to your alerting us who were asleep. We identified the source of the screams, and now that we know what sort of creature we face, we'll be ready for it. You're part of the team. We won't let one another down," he assures the man in his soft, gravelly voice.
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Normally Callah had never been troubled by the night thanks to her darksight but when the sun finally rises over the savanna the next morning she can't help but feel a little bit relieved. All the spirits she'd encountered before had been friendly...or at least indifferent. And while hostile spirits certainly weren't unheard of or surprising, hearing of them and encountering one were two different things entirely.
Hopefully we can keep making good time during the day and shorten the number of nights that we have to be out here.
After breakfast she dutifully makes use of her wand, protecting herself, Forrest, Stuinvolk, and anyone else that happens to need it from the heat before hefting her pack, ready to begin the day's journey. Feeling bolstered by what seems like decent progress in working with their troubled guide, she decides to test the ice a little further.
Maybe if we share first, he'll feel more comfortable about opening up.
"You know, when I was a little girl growing up in Outsea I never imagined that one day I'd leave home and end up traveling all over the Inner Sea like I do now," Callah remarks, glancing up at the endless sky. "The spirits of my ancestors began speaking to me when I was young but most 'Spirit-Speakers'," she smiles at Aeliah, "usually don't leave home, or at least not for long stretches."
"But as I grew older, their whispering changed, grew insistent. 'The world is changing', they said. 'You must go and see this change for yourself, burn it into your memory and your heart, so that one day you will be able to whisper to our line of the things that you saw and learned, to whisper that you were there.'"
Callah smiles. "The Pathfinder Society seemed the best way to get out into the world more and so here I am. What of the rest of you? Forrest? Krieger?"
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The Foreigner is silent for so long, it seems he hasn't heard or has chosen to ignore Callah's question.
Finally, he answers the shaman in a rasping whisper. "I have yet to prove myself worthy."
"I'm the bastard son of a Tian concubine and the Mighty Kuldor, the strongest man in the whole of the Realm of the Mammoth Lords and leader of the Bearpelt following. To escape the palace intrigues of my father's other offspring, their mothers, and his many courtiers, I left home to prove myself an epic hero through acts of great courage and strength, cunning and guile."
He pauses, thoughtful. Then he tosses the sweat-drenched, wild hair out of his eyes. "On this quest, fear is my shadow, stalking me everywhere, inescapable. I can't kill it, but I'm learning to make it a part of me. Keeps me sharp, alerts me to danger, keeps me humble."
The Foreigner looks at Stuinfolk with deep understanding. "Embrace fear, grapple it until it submits."
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“Mmm … mm … mmmmmm. Maybe we get to kill something today, Forrest Glavo.”
Aeliah stretches on her bedroll like a savanna serval, before rising to splash a little created water on her face and reapply some warpaint.
Wearing a serious expression she beckons Stuinvolk over. “Tonight Aeliah tell funny story about Venture Captain with BIG problem, my friend.”
“I let you know early so you ready for it. Then can see reaction from The Foreigner and Faust Alhazred.”
“Have a look at them faces now.” She points at the pair and grins. “Those two desperately need good laugh.”
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And here it is again to tear me away from my sleep... Over some sausage to start his day, Faust makes a point to share what he has remembered of Mngwa's to his fellow travelers.
On the road, he manages to catch a couple of minutes of conversation with Stuinvolk.
"You speak Skald, eh? Figured you might appreciate conversing in your mothertongue. I know I do every now and then. Keeps me sane and connected to home. Even if home is a torturous nightmare.
"Anyways... You're clearly a long ways from home too, bet you've seen some wild stuff. Ever heard of a Varisian thorpe called Ravenmoor? It's just on the Lampblack River. Creepy place, which I can appreciate, but it was more of the mindless killing atmosphere than the subtly sinister, you know?. A couple of associates and I traveled for a week up that damn river to meet with them. One of them had been invited to some sort of festival or whatever, so we humored them. We spent about five minutes in that place and knew something was off! We broke off as soon as we could and got right back on our boat. The return trip was much faster, but damn were the mosquitoes bad!" God do I loathe small talk.
"Why I left home and joined the Society? Wasn't much of a choice for me. My Bloodlord father was working his way towards having me murdered for not being able to live up to his expectations. I left for one of our islands, tucked away on the Geb coasts, to see what had happened to it. What happened there was... disturbing and foul, even for my standards. After I left there, I joined the Society for access and exposure to powerful artifacts and secrets to one day return to that island and purge it. With a little luck, I may even keep that sort of thing from spreading further in land and claiming the area for myself," he explains before taking several gulps of water and retreating to the back of the marching order.
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When Callah offers to protect him from the heat, Stuinvolk politely declines. "Thank you, but I've been down here for so long, I guess I'm acclimated. I do feel very much at home in the Mwangi, just more so in some parts than others...."
He listens intently to her story, and When she’s done, he asks for more. ”Please, if you would, tell me more about Outsea. Is it above the surface? Could I go there?”
He seems a little put-off by the big scary guy whispering things about embracing his fear and grappling with it. To Aeliah’s offer of a funny story at the night’s camp, he replies, ”I might even match your story with one of my own. And yes, Kreiger needs to lighten up.” he whispers to her with a smile.
But when Faust begins talking to him in Skald, it seems a damn has broken. So much so that when Faust seeks to return to the rear of the line, Stuinvolk drops back slightly to continue their conversation about Geb. Albeit in Skald, so the rest of the party has no clue what the topic of this animated discussion is. When it does finally run its course, Stuinvolk returns to the front to lead the way through the seemingly endless savanna. On the slight breeze that passes across the tops of your heads, you even hear him humming an old Skald song.
When you arrive at a good spot for an overnight camp, he notices your preparations and asks, ”If you’re going to sit watch in pairs, would it be okay if I joined Callah’s shift? I mean, her night-vision makes up for my simple old human eyes, and, well, otherwise, there’d be an odd-man out.”
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In the morning, Forrest overhears that the spirits are indeed just magical beasts. Putting away his necklace, he begins to shine his rapier. He looks over to Aeliah with a smirk. "Yes, a beast shall be an honorable fight. Perhaps today we shall make ourselves a bit of glory." He thanks Callah profusely as she once again gifts him with a bit of her magic. Later that evening, upon waking for her watch, the undine finds her shoes shined and set out for her.
Forrest takes his turn walking alongside Stuinvolk during the day, sharing a bit of his story. "You ever been to Cheliax? Pretty good place, it is. Very orderly. If it weren't for all the devils and mad-rampant racism, I wouldn't'a minded it!" He shrugs his shoulders amicably. "But, they don't like halfies much around there! No sir, they like using..." His voice drops low and he almost spits out, "The S-word." With a grimace, he stays quiet for a moment. Then, with a shake of his beard, he smiles again. "But you'd probably like it! They like 'umies there! Beautiful oceans. And lots of tieflings! If you haven't met enough in the Society, you'll get your share there!" He goes on to tell a rather saucy tale of a tiefling woman he met once. "I met 'er in a bar, right? She was holding a honeycomb and a donkey. Mary, actually!" He points to the loyal donkey behind the group. "And let me tell ya, Mary ain't the only thing I got out of that night!"
That night, he settles down and gets ready to take third watch.
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Faust and the Foreigner circle the camp in opposite directions, passing each other at regular intervals. Dusk has ended, and the darkness is taking hold. Faust stops and holds out a water skin to the Foreigner with a nod. As he lifts the skin to his mouth, the of the mngwa tears out of the grasses. The big man chokes on the mouthful of water and prepares to head into the brush. But before he can even drop the water skin, the mngwa has already circled around the camp, again crying out twice more before disappearing into the night….
You catch a glimpse of a dark feline with stripes and green, gleaming eyes circling the camp at a distance of a few hundred feet.
The beast looks you straight in the eyes, and you are shocked to realize the creature’s eyes are the same color as Stuinvolk’s.
When Stuinvolk wakes from the noise, he happens to spot Forrest returning Callah’s shoes to her bedside. He looks at the halfling with haunted eyes. ”Don’t you hear the sounds of men and women screaming, too? Tell me I’m not crazy.”
>> Each of you may attempt a Discovery check using Sense Motive. You may Aid Another using Sense Motive.
>> One of you may instead attempt to Influence Stuinvolk using one of these:
-> Knowledge (geography) to chat about traveling and foreign lands and take his mind off the screaming
-> Heal to soothe mental wounds and anguish
-> Perform (Comedy) using good, dry humor to help transform his experiences into dark humor
No matter how many of you speak to him, only one check to influence may be made, but Aiding Another is allowed.
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The Foreigner wakes his sleeping companions, while reassuring Stuinvolk. "You're not crazy friend. The magical creature has abilities it's using to try to weaken our resolve. Not gonna work."
He activates his wayfinder to provide some light and investigates the areas from which the party heard the mwanga, looking for sign.
When the team returns to the camp, he suggests, "This has happened two nights in a row. Perhaps we could set a trap for the creature tomorrow night."
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Forrest looks at Stuinvolk with a smirk, unable to contain himself. "Men and women screaming? Sure it wasn't just one woman?" He does a heel click in the air and turns back to Stuinvolk. "Cause it sounded more like your mother did last night." With a wink and a shrug, he turns away. Not exactly dry, but hey! You take what you can get. The halfling straightens the pair of shoes and goes back to packing up the camp.
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“There usually something positive come out of dark situations, Stuinvolk.”
Aeliah moves up to the Ulfen Pathfinder, shaking her head at Forrest’s retreating back. “Aeliah give example.”
“There is Venture-Captain named Eddington Keel from Corentyn. This a region in south of Cheliax known for growing grapes for make into wine.”
“Now this Eddington Keel owns estate which produces some of best purple grapes in Inner Sea.”
“BUT apparently, VC Eddington is alcoholic. So cannot enjoy the beautiful wine he creates. Isn’t that sad?”
“Aeliah drink his share.”
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Faust barely gets his sword in front of him before the Mngwa disappears into the night. S@&@ that thing is fast! When it becomes clear that it has moved on... again... he heads over to Suinvolk. It is definitely screwing with us.
Jokes? Aw hell. Seeing that humor is the way his companions are trying to go, he forces out his best fake laugh to break the ice. Dumont never tries to make me laugh and I like it that way, damn it! Confident he made no contribution to Stuinvolk's flagging psyche, the Dhampir turns his attention to Kreiger. "A trap might work well. At the least it might slow the thing down. Have you noticed the sounds coming from the same direction?"
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"Please, if you would, tell me more about Outsea. Is it above the surface? Could I go there?"
"It's in the River Kingdoms," Callah explains, "and sits right on the Sellen River. There are some parts that sit above land, mostly farms and the like. All the rest is swampland, rivers, and canals. Locks and gates separate freshwater and salt water and keep the waters of the different districts from flowing into one another. And most of the underwater structures are formed from coral and seaweed. It's...well, I think it's beautiful but I'm also just a bit biased," she smiles.
Then, as if realizing that she hadn't quite answered the actual question, she adds, "You'd need some means to breathe underwater but land-dwellers are absolutely free to visit, especially since being on -and in - the river means Outsea sees a fair amount of trade from other towns."
Although pleased that her conversational gambit seems to have paid off, Callah does grow quiet and introspective as the rest of the group begins to share their own stories - most of them much darker and grimmer than her own.
"I see," she says at last, during a lull. "I hope that each of us are able to find what we're looking for, one day."
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Callah needs no additional help in waking from her slumber as the cries of the mngwa echo in the night once more, though she does squint up at Krieger and nod as he comes by to check on her.
"M'up, but thank you for being thorough," she whispers as she rises and looks around. In spite of the seriousness of the situation there's an audible *snerk* from her general direction as Forrest decides to break the tension with a joke.
"His mother?" Callah responds with a raised eyebrow. "You sure it wasn't Mary, instead?"
Ooh, maybe that was a little *too* weird...
"Um...thank you for shining my shoes..." she mumbles, quickly kneeling down as though to examine them and letting her hair hide her face.
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As he makes his way across the camp waking everyone up, Krieger has an epiphany! Stuinvolk is an Ulfen. And a bard. And Ulfen bards love nothing more than to tell sagas. Maybe encouraging him to turn his experiences into material for a saga would help him deal with it all.
Stuinvolk’s mouth gapes open when Forrest makes a joke at the expense of his mother! But then he cracks the tiniest smile at the heel click, especially considering how incredibly high the halfling was able to get into the air. Just as he’s about to stand up to show the little man how it’s really done, Aeliah settles down next to him on his bedroll to tell him about the Chelaxian.
When she finishes, he looks her in the eyes and gives her the best and warmest smile any of you have seen on him.
”Soooo, you think you can outdrink an Ulfen? ‘Cause I’d like to buy you a drink or ten when all of *this* is done with.” He sweeps his hand across the vast and endless horizon, but he also glances down a little self-consciously at his deformity. ”If you’d want to, that is….”
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BUT he also glances down a little self-consciously at his deformity. “If you’d want to, that is….”
“I am woman, Stuinvolk.”
Aeliah grips her companion’s jawline between thumb-and-index|middle finger, and wrenches his head sideways to look him in the eyes.
“I have responsibilities. Much to think about, much to do. All which occur before I think about self.”
The druidess releases her grip, giving the Northman’s chest a shove. She is not gentle.
“You try courtship with woman, drink and celebrate life with her, have her vomit on your shoes -- you MUST show respect and share your strength. You MUST decide what you want and be confident when you ask for it.”
“Otherwise you not worthy of any woman of character. Understand? She deserve your BEST!”
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"We're getting quite the education here, aren't we?" Callah whispers to Forrest as she straightens her now-shiny shoes, jerking her head slightly towards Aeliah and Stuinvolk.
This is exactly why I left home. To see how others live, laugh, and love.
She smiles to herself as she turns her gaze away from the camp, feeling cheered in spite of the darkness and the danger that was certainly still lurking.
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The Foreigner gains some insight into Stuinvolk's bardic training and place of origin. "The bards and skalds of the North are famous for the sagas they've composed about their heroes. Your own tale would make a fitting contribution to the legends and lore of your people."
He looks around the circle of his companions. "Perhaps some of us have talents that might help your composition."
"Anyone find a trace of the creature?" he asks.
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Forrest shares a moment with Callah, watching the conversation between Aeliah and Stuinvolk with growing enjoyment. Huh, I never knew vomiting on shoes was the way to a woman's heart! I'll have to remember that one! The halfling helps tear up camp, he thinks about what the Foreigner said. He stops for a moment to give Mary, the donkey, a pet and looks longingly at the dance shoes peeking out of his bag. He murmurs to himself, "Those Ulfen, always telling stories and singing songs. No appreciation for fine footwork."
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Stuinvolk nods in understanding of what Aeliah is saying. ”You’re right of course. A worthy woman deserves my best. I’m not at my best quite yet. But I really feel like you all—and this journey—are helping me get there. Thank you. For everything.” Not wanting to go any further down that particular road this night, he makes a show of rearranging his bedroll and pack to get back to sleep before another day of hiking.
⌛⌛⌛⌛☀☀☀☀
After days of traveling the savanna, the miles of sere grassland seem to blend together. In the dry midday heat, the yellow and brown of the horizon form an interminable backdrop. Occasional patches of trees do little to break the monotony, their branches and sparse leaves barely moving in the still air. Even the nearby stretch of the Korir River melds into the dry, brown palette with its crumbling, muddy banks.
The lack of humidity at least reduces the number of stinging and biting insects encountered. In places, the noises of grassland life seem muted, with not even the chirp of a grasshopper to be heard, resulting in an eerie silence.
Stuinvolk directs you to one of these small copses of trees as a source of water. Arriving, you suddenly notice a group of five tall, powerfully built Mwangi women and men. Two of them are kneeling by the watering hole filling skins while three others were supposed to be standing watch. One of the women who was on the far side of the oasis puts a spyglass away as she turns toward you. The others look to her as she steps a little closer to your group, and you notice that she seems to be smiling just slightly.
”Karibu katika eneo la Mzali, wageni! Je, uko hapa kuiba maji yetu na kuiharibu ardhi zetu?” she asks as she gestures to the watering hole, still smiling all the while.
Seeing the Mwangi group, Stuinvolk sidles back away from them and steps halfway behind the Foreigner.
”They’re Mzali. We gotta fight them. We *gotta* kill them,” he whispers to the Foreigner, his voice taking on a slight note of panic towards the end.
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"Steady, Stuinvolk. Let's avoid violence, if we can. If it comes to a fight, you stay back and keep your hands away from your weapons. We've got this, brother." The Foreigner urges Ulfen bard to remain calm.
The Foreigner raises his empty hands, demonstrating to the Mzali that he doesn't wish to provoke a fight.
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"His mother?" Callah responds with a raised eyebrow. "You sure it wasn't Mary, instead?"
"It was human men and women screaming, Callah Spirit-speaker." Aeliah’s tone is gentle. "Mary is donkey. Not a human."
“But that OK.” The half-elf steeples her fingers together, forming a ball to represent the moon/coin symbol of Ketephys.
“Aeliah pray to entire elven pantheon for you tonight.”
♒
She gestures to the watering hole, still smiling all the while.
Aeliah shows empty hands as she smiles back at the stranger.
While waiting for Faust to respond, she makes an up-and-down wave pattern with her left hand, before ‘dipping’ her right index and middle fingers into the 'handy stream' and then kissing the tips of both fingers.
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Callah is careful to keep her hands at her sides, visible, and away from her weapons. She gazes at the Mzali woman and slowly shakes her head in the negative.
"No. We are travelers through these lands," she explains, trying to choose her words very carefully. "We've attempted to avoid your territory as best as we can in our journey, for we have no desire to tangle with the mighty Mzali...or anyone else that calls this place home."
"It seems our best efforts were unsuccessful, however," Callah continues. She smiles slightly, much like the woman had done, but it's a smile that doesn't reach her eyes at all. "And here we are. All of us, we've heard tales of the punishments meted out by the proud Mzali against trespassers, but as we stand here now I will ask - is there any way that we can prove the truth of our intent to you or make up for our trespass here without bloodshed?"
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Convinced he's not been able to persuade Stuinvolk to calm down, he tries to help his companions convince the Mzali that they mean them no harm.
"We have tried to avoid trespassing in the territory of the Mzali. And we do not wish a confrontation. Our friend here is ill, cursed by a foul fey creature. We only seek to help him."