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And be prepared for some lyrics from Poison's song as we horseback ride to the hut or the crows.
Well, the Hut will still be standing for a couple more days at least- but crows won't fly over the dead carcass forever. It was about an hour east of the Fanghberry caves. I say we check that out first! Not to override The Executioner or anything. But my two copper pieces of thought.
Awakening at first light, Faerin gets out of bed, throwing open her window to greet the dawn. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, a palmful of water in one hand, a smooth bit of worn stone in the other, she embraces the warmth of the sun, and the ever-present flow of the late spring air on her bare skin, meditating on the interactions of the elements in all things, the flow of life and power that made up the natural world.
Communing with the elements and the primal force of nature herself, she feels her the power flow into her and through her, replenishing her magic, enriching her understanding of and connection to the land, and the world around her.
After an hour, she rises from her meditation, slipping on a simple shift, before setting out a waterproof canvas tarp on the floor and setting out her assortment of ingredients, herbs, berries, nuts, roots and other harvested implements she uses to make her concoctions, collecting the marble mortar and pestle from her gear. The songs of morning birds and other assorted noises of the fort slowly coming to life accompany her work as she brews a few useful concoctions, her deep knowledge of how to draw power form things found in nature, imbuing her herbal combinations with powerful natural magic.
The work takes her the better part of another hour, at which point she packs everything up, conjuring water into a washbasin to wash up before getting dressed and joining her companions for breakfast before leaving.
When they head to the stables to get their horses, she makes a point of seeking out the boy they'd spared from among the bandits, checking in on him to see how he was adjusting to honest life, and tossing him a silver for the extra apples he brought Azalea and the extra brushing of her coat she'd requested of him.
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After a bit more talking, Shayn was delighted with the opportunity of accompanying the group of adventurers - and maybe for the first time in several decades, feeling she might actually belong in it. While still keeping her guard up, something tells her this might actually be promising.
As they prepare to depart on the next day, she does her usual morning routine in her bedroom: Her hare familiar projects out of the tattoo and together they commune, which involves cutting Shayn's own flesh and let it bleed. While it harms her, the same ritual ends with infernal symbols drawn in her skin that heal the wounds. Finally, the familiar merges back in the tattoo and she bathes before leaving the space to meet her companions.
Pyros rises early, goes to a clear space in the fort’s Bailey, and sits cross-legged on the ground, his unsheathed blade held carefully in his hands. His eyes half-closed he meditates on the blade and the teachings of Milani, quietly reciting a few passages from The Light of Hope in Celestial and Elven. Just at the edge of his senses, he feels...something. It was always tenuous, difficult to define. But he felt a connection to something beyond him. Something sent by the goddess. His tattooed arm felt warmer, somehow, more alive. He rose smoothly and began exercises with his blade, swiftly passing through the basic forms and moves taught in the academy, adding a few flourishes learned from his master. One day, he would have his own tweaks to add to the style. Things to teach an apprentice of his own one day. Someday. For now he concentrated on his own motions, trying to make each pass more fluid than the last. An hour later, he finished and went to find some water to wash up with.
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You come out of the woods and see a small hill with a path that winds up it in switchbacks. There appears to be a structure at the top. At the base of the hill, where the path starts, you see a fallen in shed with what appears to be racks that are overgrown with vines. As you approach, the air suddenly chills and two ghostly figures appear.
One is a boy of about fifteen, the other appears to be a middle aged man. You can see a family resemblance between them. The older man looks perpetually angry, with deep scowl lines marking his face and he is dressed shabbily in an old tattered cloak.
The boy approaches in obvious trepidation.
"Father, I could not find the herbs at the place you said..."
The older man's eyes blaze with anger. And he moves his hands in intricate gestures. Suddenly, bands of force appear around the boy, holding him rigidly still.
"Silence! You speak when spoken too! Disobedience always leads to punishment, and you have just disobeyed twice!"
The bands of force tighten squeezing the boy.
"But Father..." the boy whimpers.
"Three times!"
And with that cry the older man summons a ball of acid and hurls it into the boy's face, burning him horribly.
With that, the two apparitions fade from view and the air returns to normal.
Ekun stops with a cold sweat as two ghostly figures appear. "Nobody move!" He calls out quietly between his teeth. Just as fast as the apparitions appeared, they disappear. "Where did they go?" He draws his sword, spinning around, looking for the threat.
Shayn approaches behind Ekun, and lightly speaks arcane words as she moves her left hand fingers in an exotic dance. Her eyes seem to change colors for a moment - almost as if going blind - and she circles her head looking in different directions.
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Pyros remains silent momentarily, the wheels in his head turning as he watches the ghostly scene.
Faerin feels the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, both at the supernatural sight and the anger she feels rising, at the idea of the child being tortured with his father's magic. "No wonder the energy here is tainted."
"So the ghosts of what was likely, a druid and his son, haunt this place. It looks like there's another hut or something up ahead." Faerin says as they move further down the path.
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When you make your way down the small side path, you realize that the tiny roof is just the top of a well. But it is obvious it hasn't been used for a while as the well has bushes growing out of it.
Several of you notice an off color stone that appears to be loose in the side of the well. You easily pull it out and find a cloth wrapped box. Inside the box are some notes.
In early spring, the leaves are the color of her eyes. His too, I can barely hold myself from burning them out with acid! It is his fault. Despicable, weak! If it was not for him, she would still be alive!
Does not talk to me. Plans something, I know, I know. I must collect forest herbs and make a hiding place, and hide my charms. He is a coward, but he can steal and run away. I will punch it out of him.
Everything hurts. How could he? How? He would never have the courage to confront me on his own. ...He says his name is now Stag Lord. He says he will not let me die or let me go. He says he is not my son anymore and I should not call him so. Like I ever did anyhow...
He told me to pack my things, We are going to leave. He has his own people and a fortress now. I am hiding the charms in my herb cache. I probably shouldn't, I won't escape. He won't let me.
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Well, I'm never took those *what's going on in your head* classes at Pitax Academy, but this seems like a straight forward tale where the mom died in labor and the father blames the son for her death. Then years of bad family upbringing finally made the butcher pay his bill.
It's really, really sad. The Father really could have --should have-- done something else.
She gives a pause of silence/mourning. One thing bothers her though, and she opens her mouth before thinking of the stinging ramifications to Ekun. Yet again, Linzi opens her mouth and inserts her foot.
Ekun, you are a father. You have kids right? Could you ever dream of treating your teenage son so badly? Splashing ACID on his face?
Ekun frowns as he tosses the loose stone off into the woods. "I was a father little one. No longer...." You notice a thin trail of a wet streak on his face from his eyes down to his chin line after watching the image and reading the note. He grabs his pack and begins to head back down the trail. "There is nothing here but long forgotten memories." His voice a bit sour and down.
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Linzi sees that she asked the wrong question.
Wait! Wait! I think there still is something here. The Herb racks. We should check out the shed again. There's a secret compartment- it has bizaaro dad's stuff in it.
Linzi tries to get to the collapsed shelter and see if there's an herb cache that she can find.
She's obviously flustered and blames herself.
Dang! I can't see anything in this shelter!
Oh Ekun, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry I even said anything.
Pyros listens silently as Linzi reads the hidden notes. He shakes his head. ”Little wonder the Stag Lord wanted this place destroyed.”
I don't think I really understand what's going on. - said the witch, visibly confused - These are... Memories? The child... Was it the Stag Lord? Are these notes from his father?
She walks slowly for a moment, touching the notes.
Daddy issues, huh? - she completes, going towards the shed to search for the charms.
"It looks as though the...memory or pain of what was done here is somehow bound to this place. The father's maliciousness created the monster that is the stag lord today." Faerin says solemnly.
"I am sorry for your loss Ekun."
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Finding nothing more at the well, you continue up the hill towards the house. As you make the final switchback, you see the remains of a lean-to and more overgrown racks. Again the air grows chill and you see the apparition of the older man appear. This time he looks older, late middle age. A second figure approaches him. This figure is much larger now and wears a helm made entirely of some huge stag skull, complete with an immense set of antlers.
"Boy! What took you so long? I told you to prepare for the ritual." The old man shouts angrily.
The second figure approaches and says, "You will never give me orders again!"
"What...? says the old man in shocked disbelief.
The helmed figure moves up to the old man and knocks him to the ground.
"Come on, old man! Summon your power against me! Or perhaps you'd like to try the acid? I am not your slave anymore!"
"Not your toy!"
The man step to the side and delivers a vicious kick to the prone man's side.
"Not your son!"
"Enough, I...." The old man mutters in pain.
"Get up, I will not kill you. Your powers will be of use to me. From now on you will do what I say. Speak when I say. Disobedience leads to punishment. Always!"
With that, as before, the figures fade from view and the air returns to normal.
It seems our Stag Lord really does have daddy issues. What a shame! At least this definitely explains his interest here. - Shayn says while looking around - What I don't understand is this phenomenon. Is this some kind of apparition? Illusion? How are we seeing this story of the past?
She scratches her chin, genuinely curious.
The information is golden, however. This was not a good father, and if this old man is still alive somehow, it hints that we might be able to use him.
"A monster whose abuse tempered and cultivated a bigger, stronger monster, one that eventually established dominance over him. " Faerin says without a hint of irony.
" If the father lives, the Stag King will have broken him, letting him letting him live solely for sport."
She was also more than a little perturbed at what could possibly cause the visions they all shared, perhaps the actions of some sort of witness.
Ekun crosses his arms as this vision finishes. "Who knows how old this vision is. The father is likely dead by now if the Stag Lord rules this region."
"These visions...fel like the work of someone who either knows about or witnessed this all happen...like maybe one of the Fey." Faerin says as they move closer.
"But, why would the fey care about this stag lord so much to leave his past visions about?"
Faerin picks up the potion bottles, studying each one in depth for a moment, popping the cork on each and taking a whiff.
Shayn approaches Faerin and pronounces some words as she analyzes the potions. Her fingers move in a coordinated dance, and her eyes gain a brighter tone of blue; she finally, then, faces the two vials the half-elf couldn't identify for some seconds to try to determine what they are.
Noticing the necklaces are also magic, the witch approaches and tries to identify them as well.
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I am very glad we looked for these things. Good eye Ekun.
Did anyone want me to tell them what the Charm necklace with the small bones and the necklace of clovers do?
Linzi pauses for the briefest, just assuming the others want to know.
Well, the Charm of Fate protects it's wearer from bad luck and foul magic. We should give that so someone who's up front should get that!
The Fortunate charm is good for those that do lots of things! Kinda like me!
She says with a smile.
"I agree, being able to withstand magic is important to our front liners, especially since most spellcasters prefer to target fighters." Faerin says thoughtfully. "And our good luck charm could always use a little more luck." she finishes with a grin.
While the others are looking over the magic items, Pyros inspects the area, just in case they missed anything.
"So these are the charms her was referring to, the ones he hid before the Stag Lord took him." Faerin says as she pieces things together.