By dawn the winter storm had vanished, howling out into the vast void of the Arcadia Sea. In its place was a bright sky, so blue that it hurt to look at. Tchokito stood on the rocky beach that passed for a harbor in Asleifair, drinking in the growing sunlight. It danced off the still choppy water, occasionally turning the sullen gray into pure melted gold when it caught a wave just right, like a magician flipping mundane coins to reveal a hidden gold crown. His breath still fogged in front of him, creating wispy white clouds that caught the breeze but it was warmer it had been, and the shining sun promised spring. Indeed, by Linnorm standards, it was downright pleasant as clearly judged by the number of people out and about.
Most Ulfen spent winters indoors as much as possible, packed in drinking halls or their homes with roaring fires and handicrafts. Winter was the time for making candles, repairing clothes or sharpening old harpoons. Despite the legends and stories, few Ulfen braved the frecious winters head on, with most staying inside as much as possible. True, trade and life went on even in the coldest times, but for most it was a time of quiet hibernation. Which only meant that once the weather broke, like today, people came out in force.
The rocky strand was covered with people. Children ran about laughing and playing tag, jumping from rock to rock and scaring the ever present clouds of seagulls which rose in the air like everyone’s breath. Dogs chased the kids, barking and snapping. Couples walked along the beach, hand in hand, enjoying the sun and lungfuls of the crisp salty air. Fisherman stared out at sea, gauging how long until it was safe to ply their trade again while wives did the same. A few of the merchants were out selling things to the impromptu crowds, hawking everything from honey sweets to new boots. One man was even juggling and telling jokes, his young daughter collecting a few coins from the passersby. A festival atmosphere dominated, hearts lifted by the hope of spring and fair weather. But the center of attention was, of course, was the Linnorm’s Breath, Kristtór Hallmundur’s ship and supposed ticket to Valenhall.
For one thing, it was the only ship on the water. It was too early in the year for the trading vessel that would crowd the waterfront later in the year and all the fishing vessels were still upside down on shore, covered for the season. It wouldn’t be long before they were returned to the water, for a summer of whaling and fishing but for now, the Linnorm’s Breath had the berths to herself. This was good because she was a large ship, bigger then most of the longships that found their way to Asleifair. Her sail was bright white and flapped in the wind, painted with the rough image of a roaring Linnorm. The prow rode the choppy water easily, pitching up and down with smooth and easy grace, her gunwales newly painted and shining.
Despite the rather romantic and sweeping view however, Tchokito had misgivings.
The ship rode low in the water and the wood beneath the gleaming paint looked aged and water logged. Whatever her past, she wasn’t a new ship, not by any measure.
Still, it looked busy enough. Men and women of all sorts crowded the shore near the vessel,the rickety quay and the ship itself. Some were obviously just onlookers hoping to catch a peek at those crazy enough to set out for Valenhall in late winter, others seemed to be debating entry while a few were already onboard and getting the ship ready for sea. Clearly Hallmundur was a man in a hurry but still without a full crew. Excellent. The captain was visible there, standing at the front of the rough wooden wharf, wearing the same rather outlandish costume as the previous night. Yet, in the bright morning sun he looked smaller and more worn than the imposing titan of sea and spray he had conjured up last night. With a now clear morning eye Tchokito could see the graying hair, the paunchy middle, the slight stoop of the shoulders. He was no more in prime than his boat but both were putting on a good show.
Tchokito eased his way through the crowd and took his place in a rough line of would-be sailors queuing in front of the Linnorm’s Breath. In front of him towered a massive man with legs like tree trunks and arms thick as hams. A wild tangle of yellow hair was tamed into neat braids that spilled half-down his expansive chest. The massive battle axe hanging from his back gave him the look of the classic Ulfen raider, the legendary berserkers who fight fueled by a blind rage.
Captain Kristtór Hallmundur seemed unimpressed however and was shouting angrily at the man, ”No drunks!”
The huge man silently glowered down with a face like a thundercloud but Hallmundur was undaunted, ”I said, no drunks! If you can’t be sober on the first day, Gods above what will you be like a week into the voyage.”
The mountain’s reply was a guttural rumble, ”Ale before a sailing is good luck. I am good sailor. You would skip me, Hjalte Søgaard and choose one of these others? One of these…” he turns disdainfully toward the line of hopefuls behind him. His blue eyes settle on Tchokito and he snorts, ”You would choose this... birdman over Hjalte?”
Tchokito takes the situation in with a glance, looking up at the much taller Ulfens around him. On his right shoulder, Cheok glares at the rude man, Hjalte. On his other shoulder, Tuuli simply looks around curiously, not quite as clever as the familiar and so not able to guess at the conversation.
"Ah, but I am not simply any birdman, my good sir," he says, nodding slightly at Hjalte. "I am Tchokito the Far-Wanderer, who has walked from Minkai to Varisia, sailed from Sothis to Sandpoint, and wandered many ways between. I've fought pirates out to pillage and bands of bandits, faced wolves the size of grizzly bears, and seen the very ice of the World's Crown get up and fight."
"And, you may not know this, but Tengu like myself are good luck. They call us Jinx Eaters down south, for our feathers are black because they drink in the bad luck and leave the good for others. And I should think a journey like this will have bad luck aplenty to need drinking."
The stiff land breeze riffles Hjalte's beard as he stares down at the smaller tengu. Blonde wisps flutter in the wind like a thousand tiny flags. The Ulfen man finally snorts loud enough to make Tuuli jump, flapping her wings to maintain her balance.
"Maybe. Big words for big talk." The berserker finally says, voice still that low rumble. "Maybe birdman do all this. Maybe not. Many men say many things, not all true." Then he shrugs, "But Hjalte need not birdman to eat bad luck. No bad luck follows Hjalte, on sea or land. Maybe bad luck follow you?"
Captain Hallmundur looks intrigued however and idlily waves the larger man to silence. he rubs his stubbled chin, dark eyes focused on the tengu witch.
"Jinx eater, eh. Like the stories...does it work? Or is it just an old wives tale, like cats on board?" The ulfen captain considers this and says, "I think I have heard of you, Tchokito. You sailed with old Bluehair a few years ago, I heard, if you are the same one. He said you brought him good luck."
The Captain turned back to the glowering Hjalte. "Fine, you are hired. You have a strong back and gods only know we'll need that. Keep your head out of the ale keg and it'll be fine. Learn some manners though. This is likely to be a long voyage and we all have to pull together if we want to find Valenhall and return." The big man considers this slowly then turns to Tchokito.
The Ulfen fighter says nothing but inclines is head slightly in apology. That done apparently to his satisfaction, he stumps loudly up the wharf toward the anchored vessel.
"I think that might be trouble." Hallmundur says but adds, "Looks good in a fight though." He turned back to the tengu witch, "So, was allt hat stuff true or were you just pulling Hjalte's beard? Gods know I wouldn't blame you, but I need to know. I only have room for three dozen men onboard and I want to make sure every jack of them is a man worth his-"
"Or woman!" A female voice cuts in from behind Tchokito. Turning slightly he spots a short, hard looking woman, not long out of her teens. She is fairly attractive, if one likes square shoulders and a dark eyes. Her blond tresses almost exactly the same shade as Hjalte's beard, except more neatly woven.
Women signing up does not overly surprise Tchokito. Ulfen society freely allows women to take whatever job or skills they take a fancy too. That said, few go to sea, with most of the martial inclined tending toward the hunt or clan skirmishes. The greatest warriors of the Ulfen might be women, but they are rarely seen outside the borders of the kingdom. The tengu wasn't sure why but maybe the men who too afraid to export them.
"Or woman." Hallmundur says easily, clearly not showing any prejudice. Linnorm lands were too hard and the women too capabel for discrimination to take root here, like Techokito had seen in others lands. "And who are you?"
'Oddný Jógvansson' She says proudly.
"And why do you want to come on this trip?" Hallmundur said evenly, sizing the stout woman up.
The female sailor replied, "Do you know these parts, old man?"
Captain Kristtór Hallmundur frowns at this rather blunt insult but answers, "Fairly well, yes. Why of it, lass?"
She then frowned at his remark but went on, "You know those big white cliffs about ten miles to the north? With the whirlpool at the bottom?"
"Aye, Widow's Leap."
"I've been jumping off it since I was eight. I want to go because I can, old man. Why would anyone do anything?" Her voice is intense, underlaid with a questing, pushing thrill.
Hallmundur raises an eyebrow but then turns back to Tchokito, "And what about you, jinx eater. Why do you want to sail off the edge of the world and past all the maps?"
"That was a good trip, yes." Tchokito bobbed his head in agreement, a faint gleam in his eye. "Truth be told, I prefer to make my own luck. Luck is fickle even to the lucky, after all, but if you know how to seize it for yourself..."
Cheok shifts further up the tengu's arm and interrupts. "Too much talking! Are we getting on the boat or not?"
Tchokito clacks his beak. "That is up to the Captain here, Cheok, so it would be best not to interrupt."
"Why wouldn't he want us? I'm a magic bird. And you can borrow my magic. So of course he'll let us on!"
There's a glint of humor in the tengu's eye as he looks back up to Captain Hallmundur. "My friend Cheok here is still learning patience, I'm afraid."
"Learned it! Don't need it!" the raven interjects.
Tchokito smoothly continues as if his familiar had not interrupted. "To answer your last question, we've been on three continents, or four if you count the Crown. We're starting to realize our journeying days won't last forever, and this may be our last chance to add one more, and one more impressive than the others, to the list."
Captain Hallmundur frowns at the birds on Tchokito's shoulders and says, "I suppose the flock is part of the package?" He grunts sourly but says, "Very well, I won't turn down an experienced seamen with luck. Still, don't expect extra rations for the birds. You'll have to make do on what you can scavenge or spare out of your own. I'm not running a floating menagerie here."
"Go see my first mate, Thirus." he points to a stocky dwarf, dressed in Ulfen fashion, overseeing the loading of cargo near the gangplank ahead. "We'll get you and your gear stowed away. And then wait while I find a few pearls among these clams."
Oddny laughs at this, clearly believing she is a pearl of great price. Tchokito is about to turn down the wharf toward the Linnorm's Breath when he hears a commotion behind him.
The tengu turns away from the restless sea and back toward the clapboard shacks and barns that make up Asleifair's dock district. All the buildings are oversized, designed to take in the massive whale carcasses of the fishing season, making the winding streets look like second thoughts. Down one of these shell laid alleys however, comes an odd trio of men. Two are wearing the silvered insignia of the city guard, the spouting whale and iceberg. The third figure is being half-marched, half-dragged between them, wearing dirty tatters and a leather bag over his head.
The busy crowd parts around them, and the trio leave a wake of silence behind them. Even in a rowdy and free spirited town like Asleifair, no one wants to mess with the Watch or even less, with who is obviously a criminal. They march directly up to Kristtór Hallmundur, cutting past everyone else.
The Captain eyes them warily and says "And what might this be?"
"A gift from Lady Ravn, your patron and master of this city." One of the guards says, giving the hooded man at his side a violent, unkind shake.
"I am always welcome to receive the Lady's generosity," Hallmundur says cautiously but adds, "If I know what it is."
The guard grins a sickly smile, "A prisoner. He was due for the headman's block this morning, but claimed exile instead. You know the law. If a ship is leaving that day, any man can claim passage on it to avoid death. That's why punishment days tend to be slow days at the docks. You forgot to check with the magistrate and now you are stuck with him."
Hallmundur looked to the sky with a suffering look before saying, eyes closed "Stupid custom."
"But custom and law it is." The guard says implacably. "We, and the Lady, must insist."
"At least tell me what he did." The Captain says, a note of pleading entering his voice. "I can't bring an arsonist or thief on board. The men would hang me off the yardarm before sundown."
Grin growing the guard says, "Sorry, can't do that. You have to accept delivery first." he pushes the still silent man ahead slightly. The prisoner is barefoot, his feet bloody and dirty from the march across Asleifair's streets. He stumbles pitifully on the slippery pebbles that make up the beach but no one helps them.
Hallmundur growls but then relents, saying sarcastically "Very well. Give my compliments to Lady Ravn, and my sincere thanks. Gods help me, if he is poxed, I'll have both your hides nailed to the prow, even if Sivenn Blood-Eagle himself shows up."
"No pox. He seems healthy enough, apart from the usual tender treatment." The guard says and then with a theatrical flourish, pulls the leather hood off the man's head. All it reveals is a mop of unruly dark hair, as his head lolls downward, chin resting on his chest. "May I present Fej, condemned on multiple counts of sedition and blasphemy."
Spotting the problem the guard laughs, "Come on Fej, they want to see you!" he grabs a handful of the man's hair and jerks his head up. Revealed is a young handsome man with pale skin and dark eyes. At least, he would be handsome if it wasn't for the massive bruise taking up much of the left side of his face. His eyes are dim and swollen, unable to focus.
Hallmundur looks at him and mutters, "Great, just what I need. A known troublemaker." he glances about, spots Tchokito and barks, "You, Tchokito! You are in charge of this man. Get him on board and cleaned up. For the gods sake, I'm not going to have him smelling things up. And get that face looked at."
He turns back to the guards and said, "Now, if you don't mind, I have a very busy morning." They set off with a grin, heading back to town. Hallmundur, still fuming turns to the rest of the waiting sailors and starts grilling them about their skills, much less charitably then he had been a few moments ago.
"Not to worry, I'm quite familiar with keeping these four fed, even at sea," Tchikito replies to the Captain's statement.
He watches the scene with the prisoner with outward dispassion, even though inwardly he disliked the Ulfen idea of justice. The charges against him were... well, sedition could mean any number of things, and blasphemy... again, against what god? There were a few gods he himself wouldn't mind blaspheming, though he doubted cursing, say, Asmodeus would get you thrown in jail around here.
Cheok eyes Fej warily. The raven seems to be considering just how this human might be useful to him, or if he'll be more trouble than he's worth.
Tchokito looks Fej up and down as he walks over to him. "Well, we can't have you walking around on bloody feet. Let me see what I can do about that."
He murmurs an incantation and lightly touches the man, channeling healing energies into him.
"There, that should do for now. Now let's see about getting you cleaned up, and while we do, maybe you can tell me your side of the story?"
Tchokito has traveled in many lands and seen the worship of many gods. Some have jealous followers who brook no rivals or competition. Others are varied patchworks with dozens or hundreds of competing faiths, jostling for influence. Still others mostly ignore the Gods, except to throw a prayer when they need something. Blasphemy exists in nearly all lands but it takes on very different forms. The Ulfen did not strike Tchokito has a very pious lot. This was after all a land where blood hungry Gorum was considered mainstream. Just what had Fej been saying that had riled up the locals so much?
The tengu reaches into that strange magical well that nestled near his soul and pours out some healing magic on the poor man. A weaving strand of green magic glows in the cold air for a moment and the scent of dry feathers and clean air mingles with sea spray. The swaying man relaxes a bit, hidden muscles unclenching as the pain easies. His bare feet visibly heal as wounds close and skin reknits itself.
"Thank you.." The man mutters, face still downcast. His accent is pure Ulfen and uneducated.
Tchokito leads the man down the wharf, dodging the busy sailors around him. Thrius the dwarven first mate looks up from supervising the cargo loading long enough to wave them up the rickety gangplank, onto the ship. The stocky dwarf gives Fej a dark eye but clearly heard or saw enough to know why the man is coming on board so turns back to his work.
Tchokito and his new charge find a quiet spot near the prow, out of the way of the hustle and bustle. Cheok flutters up to a swining rope near at hand, feet grasping the rough hemp firmly. He turns one bright eye on Fej, as if inspecting a shiny coin or pebble. Sizing up its possible worth.
In the distance the seagulls continue their endless screeching chorus, which mixes with the crashing waves tumbling over the rocks. The wind seems colder here, even just a few feet off shore. The ship creaks in the wind, nosing up and down, like a horse impatiently waiting to be released.
"My side of the story?" Fej says suddenly, still not looking up. "You do not even ask for truth, but merely my side? Is that because you don't think I have truth or because you do not want it?"
The man's face turns toward Tchokito for the first time and the tengu is struck by his bright brown eyes, liquid and warm. "Tell me this then, my healing tengu. What masters do you serve?"
"I am not sure anyone really has the truth, save maybe some of the gods," Tchokito replies, an odd glint of humor in his black eyes. Cheok rolls his head and caws in annoyance, having heard this before. "After all, we are all limited by our own perceptions and perspectives, though I suppose in this instance you should have something close to the truth of your own actions, if not how they were perceived by others. Perhaps this is why I so like travel--by traveling and hearing others' perspectives I can combine with my own knowledge to arrive closer at the truth."
"As for who I serve? That also seems a matter of perspective. Cheok here," he points at the raven in question, who glares back at him, "For example, is quite convinced that he is my master."
"Because I am!" the raven interjects.
Tchokito gives his familiar a slight bow before continuing, "The other three ravens probably think something similar, since I feed them. And who's to say I'm not their servant? Certainly I go out of my way to help them. While we're aboard ship we'll all be serving Captain Hallmundur, of course. As for my own perspective?"
He pauses a moment. "I suppose I would say I am a servant of my own conscience."
Fej grunts in surprise, his gaze shifting from the rolling white-capped waves to Tchokito's face. The man's regular features break into a sardonic smile, "Well said, well said. Clearly we need to hire you at Aslefair prison. Someone of your more...wide-ranging perspective would be a welcome change from the current regime."
He rubbed his face where the still very visible bruise glowered darkly under the morning light. "The guards impressed on me to keep my views to myself and I think perhaps that is wise, on the confines of a ship. The Captain does not seem to share your philosophy." The man pauses and then shrugs, "But in payment for healed feet and an open mind, I will say this. Perhaps in confidence, perhaps not. I serve Milani, the Everbloom."
And then the man will say little else. Tchokito finds the man some suitable clothes and they throw the stained, tattered rags over the side, which are quickly lost in the choppy surf. A bit of bread is also found which Fej eagerly tears into, clearly having not eaten in some time.
They watch a few more sailors pass Hallmundur's muster, mostly human Ulfens but a few others mixed in. To Tchokito's surprise a halfling makes the cut, toting a very large and seemingly heavy bag with him. Despite being far smaller then most, he curses his way through the crowd with practiced ease, the rolling deck second nature. An experienced sailor, apparently.
Back on land, an old bearded man is talking earnestly with Captain Hallmundur. He is wearing stained old robes, and clutching a wooden staff very tightly. Surely this man isn't up to a daring sea voyage? Yet the captain seems very respectful, bowing and listening intently. Indeed, he seems to treat this man with more deference then the rest of the crew put together. What was that about?
That mystery was soon driven out of his mind by a new one however, as one of the last crewmembers came about. She was dressed like any Ulfen going to sea. Oiled leathers, high boots, tightly laced leggings. Her hair was worn in Ulfen style, long braids down her back, and she carried the same sea bag most of the sailors did. She strided with ease on the rocking deck of a veteran sailor. But it wasn't her clothes or her manner that interested Tchokito. It was her face. That smooth skin, the elongated ears...she was an elf.
And not just any elf of which Tchokito had seen plenty on his long travels. She looked middle-aged at best, with a lined face and slightly graying hair. Considering how elves aged she probably had quite the story to tell.
The woman took a place near the prow where Tchokito and Fej sat, and faced outward the open sea. She lifted her hands to the cold morning sky, closed her eyes and said in rolling, melodious Elven.
"Oh, Findeladlara, Guiding Hand. Please watch over this vessel and grant your favor to my mission. Please, hear my prayer and keep these foolish mortals from being as stupid as usual. I do not desire to have to swim home. Only your divine grace, and perhaps some luck, are all that stands between these thick skulled humans and the rocks. Thank you."
Tchokito gives Fej a slight nod. "It is hard to travel as far as I have with a mind held shut. I would have forever found the sights around me pounding upon it had I tried."
He respects the man's following silence, instead seeing to it that his ravens have eaten while keeping an eye on the happenings on the ship. The tengu is a bit surprised at the sight of the elf, though he can't help but find humor in her prayer.
When she finishes, Tchokito speaks in Elven. "I apologize. Had I known you wished to be unheard I would have moved."
The elf glances at Tchokito and mutters in Draconic, "We should never teach any mortal..."
But then she gives the tengu a wry smile and says in Elven, "Your speak our tongue with skill but I detect a hint of an accent. I guess you did not learn in Kyonin? Still, I will note your grasp of my language. Perhaps we will speak of it again." Without waiting for a reply, the elf swept off, moving down the rocking deck with practiced ease.
"You speak elf?" Fej said with interest. "Why?" Then he grins, face still spattered with a few bruises, "Let me guess. Part of not holding your mind closed?"
Time passes as the ship finally reaches a full complement, about two dozen crewmembers. Tchokito doesn't get a good look at everyone but he does not see anyone too exotic added, at any rate. Time enough to meet everyone on the voyage, or so he thought.
Finally Captain Kristtór Hallmundur dismisses the rest of the lingering line and turns his back to land. He strides up the gangplank, symbolically stepping with a loud stamp onto the deck. Back on shore the crowds have not dissipated, indeed, they seemed to have swelled as everyone in town wants to see the ship of fools crazy enough to set out to Valenhall in the tail end of winter. Old men shake their heads, wives wipe away tears and children wave.
The air has gotten colder over the last few hours, the landward breeze stiffening enough to make the sails bellow and Cheok shiver slightly, ruffling his feathers. The ever wheeling seagulls seem unaffected however, screeching their strange cry in an endless chorus.
Hallmunder stands under the mast and shouts, "Attention!" All faces turn toward him, and all eyes fix on the black-bearded seaman. His chest swells at the attention and he seems to grow a few inches. "You are my new crew! Every one of you chosen to be the best! The pick of the Linnorm Kingdoms."
Tchokito had gone to sea with Ulfen before and knew it was customary to do some communal ritual before heading out to sea, especially with a new crew. The tengu had seen joint prayers offered to ocean gods, traditional sailing songs and even passing around a freshly broached keg of ale. Unfortunately however, Hallmundur seems the 'rousing speech' type.
"We are about to begin on a grave and solemn task-" His flowing words are interrupted by a sudden blare of trumpets from shore. Everyone turns landward to see the crowd parting around a small phalanx of heavily armed men. Large men carrying heavy axes and pikes, dressed in royal colors could only be one thing, housecarls of King Sveinn Blood-Eagle.
The soldiers march directly down to the dock, cutting through the throng as easy as a knife through whale fat. Upon reaching the rocky wharf they spread out, creating a cleared space where the gangplank still rests. A blond haired man strides toward it, a head taller then ever the imposing housecarls. He is dressed in fine, white clothes that glitter with gold trim. Jewels are woven into his long and fine beard, flashing in the winter sunlight. He bears a sword and shield on a wide belt, all chased with ribbons of gold and silver. A wide smile with even white teeth glows nearly as much as the metal. Behind him a royal blue cloak flutters like a flag in the breeze.
At his side, is a shorter man with a trumpet who promptly gives another triumphal blast. Then, popping the trumpet under one arm bellows in a loud voice, "Here ye! The tale of the mighty promise of this ship has reached the ears of King Sveinn Blood-Eagle! He wishes to send his blessings and hopes with you." A short pause and then, "The words of the King are not just empty mouthing's however! He also gives you a great gift, the finest warrior of his court, the bravest man at his table, the canniest sailor.. Øybiorn the Gold!"
The glittering man raises a hand and gives a single, formal wave. Then, without further ado, strides up the deck of the Linnorm's Breath as if he owns it. When he reaches the deck he turns dramatically, cloak whipping about.
"Good people of Asleifair!" Øybiorn shouts, his voice a rather unimpressive high-pitched squeal. indeed, his words are mostly lost in the waves spattering the rocks and the screaming gulls.
"As you see, the royal eyes see all and the royal ears hear all! This expedition is in safe hands and you will see all of us again, bearing the many treasures of distant Arcadia. Keep your eyes to the west and wait for us!" Then he turns back to the ship, glances up at the sails and shouts, "Now, shove off! Let us pit ourselves against wind and wave!"
Everyone stands in utter, disbelieving silence. It had all happened so fast!
Also, Tchokito might not have been an Ulfen but he had lived here for some time, traveling up and down the coast for adventure and discovery. Never once had he heard of Øybiorn the Gold. While everyone is still speechless, the newest member of the crew gazes over the other men with a speculative eye. He does not look overly impressed with what he sees until his brown eyes fix on Tchokito.
He lets out a laugh and says, "This is no Ulfen! Why are we letting foreigner on board for such a critical voyage?" The ship rolls slightly in a patch of rougher surf and the man nearly tumbles over the side, a hand gripping the handrail.
He laughs, trying to cover his awkwardness, "Well, let's hope it smooths out when we get going!"
Smooths out? Had this man ever been to sea before?
There's a bit of a gleam of humor in Tchokito's eye as he responds to Fej. "I speak many tongues. You might even say I collect them."
"Including Raven!" Cheok interjects in Common. "The most important one!"
"Not that you need it," the Tengu responds to his familiar.
Anything further he was planning on saying is cut off by the arrival of the royal party. Tchokito eyes the new arrival carefully.
Trouble! Cheok mutters to Tchokito while glaring at the noisy man. For his part, the witch bows slightly to Øybiorn.
"I offer some skills that are unusual amongst Ulfen," he states in response to the probably-rhetorical question, keeping his opinion of this 'gift' to himself. Perhaps Sveinn needed to get rid of this man for some reason?
Fej shrugs and is about to say something on the issue of languages when the arrival of Øybiorn the Gold firmly derails everything.
The glittering Ulfen looks down at Tchokito with easy-going condescension. Despite being tall however, the tengu's quick eyes note he is slightly portly and lacks the sheer musculature of, say, Hjalte. This is not someone used to earning his way, whatever his sheer size might indicate.
"Perhaps." Øybiorn says with obvious disbelief. "And perhaps you will not survive the crossing. I hear the Arcadia Sea is not for the faint of heart!" Then he turns back toward Hallmundur and says, "Well, when do we leave?"
Øybiorn had been aboard for mere moments and had already broken several cardinal rules at sea. He had not addressed the captain by rank, he had not asked for permission to board and clearly felt no need to consider himself an equal to his shipmates. Worse then all of this put together however, was that he was giving orders or at least implying them. Ulfen ships did not have the same rigid hierarchy that Chelix or Ablsom vessels did, based on rules and regulations. No one was flogged on an Ulfen ship. But that didn't mean the Captain was no less master on deck, subject to no one or anything. Indeed, custom and law clearly indicated that even if the King himself was onboard, Hallmundur would have authroity over him.
Indeed, by a strict definition of the law, Hallmundur could declare Øybiorn a mutineer and throw him overboard. All eyes swung back toward the Captain.
The seamen stood there, oddly silent, face unreadable. His dark eyes turned from Øybiorn, to the crew and then back. Then, with a faint shrug, he said, "All hands, make sail! Thirus, figure out the work crews and get them to work. I want to be out on the breakers before the tide turns."
And then the deck was a blur of confused motion. And confusion was the right word for instead of the usual orderly commotion of a well oiled machine, this was the real chaos of a ship without hierarchy. granted most of the men and women knew what needed done in a general sense. Sails adjusted, lines taken in, anchor raised, but no one knew who was supposed to do what. For a short time every hand is tripping over each other or literally jostling at the same line.
Thirus however proves to be a capable manager of men. The stout dwarf strides the deck, bellowing orders in a voice loud enough to make ears ring. He quickly sorts the hands out by rough estimates of skill. The best are sent afloat to adjust the sails. Those with less skill are sent to handle the lines and stays. Further down are merely strong backs to hoist the anchor and perhaps man the harbor oars. Those with zero skills are sent below to sort and stack the baggage.
Finally Thirus stumps up toward Tchokito and Fej.
He points at the bruised former prisoner with a meaty finger, "You. What experience do you have at sea?"
"None." Fej says promptly, "I am a candlemaker's son. Worked on the fishing docks of Karlsgard for a time."
"Perfect." Thirus grunts, face half hidden under a wild black beard. "You'll go below and stack gear."
"And if I refuse?" Fej said, mildly.
"Then I'll crack your skull and then you'll go below and stack gear." The dwarf growls and takes a step forward, picking up a heavy belaying pin with practiced ease. Fej frowns but says, "Fair enough."
"And what about you?" The dwarf asks Tchokito bluntly, taking in the tengu and his small flock of crows. "Ever been to sea before? Don't lie, you'll only get yourself and others hurt and then I'll have to deal with that."
"I have a couple years' experience as a sailor," Tchokito replies. "Call me, perhaps, a deckhand of middling skill. I know my port from my starboard, but my experience is mostly with Chelaxian and Andoren light warships, so I might need some instruction on the differences in rigging for a longship such as this. Rigging is what I was best at when I sailed before--as you might imagine, a small, light person such as myself does well at climbing and tying ropes."
He hesitates only the briefest moment before adding, "I do also have skill with magic, for healing, defense, and even offense, if required. Nothing for weather or ropes, I'm afraid."
"I keep watch!" Cheok interjects.
The tengu nods slightly. "And Cheok and my other raven friends are good lookouts, though what catches their eyes is not always what would draw the attention of someone like me or you."
The raven familiar preens himself proudly a bit at this statement.
"Hmmmm." Thirus said tapping the side of his blunt nose with an equally blunt finger. The dwarf made it look easy but his task, turning a random assortment of seamen into a functioning crew, was not. Even this one interaction was complex. Not only did he have to completely judge Tchokito's skills based on a brief glance and a few sentences (some of which may be outright lies), he had to consider them in the context of yet other unknown sailors abilities as well as the needs of as yet untested ship. The tengu did not envy the Mate's job.
"You'll be a top man then, at least to start." The dwarf said firmly and gestured aloft, "If you can handle a Chelish rig, you'll be fine here. Just listen to Tarvok up there," Thirus pointed to s slender man sliding up the mast, "He'll keep you in line."
"As for the birds, just keep them out of the way. Magic types are always brining some creature or other on deck.." he stumps away, still muttering about druids until he comes across a man coiling rope lefthanded which soon earned his ire.
The next few hours aloft were an education. Thirsu had been right, his former time on a Chelish ship made the Ulfen vessel comparatively simple to understanding, but that didn't make it easy. Luckily Tarvok proved to be a skilled instructor, patiently explaining tot hem (repeatably) just how things were supposed to go). The stiff landbreeze made things tricky but for all his faults Tchokito had one great advantage over the others, experience aside. He has zero fear of falling.
The view from the tops also gave him a wonderful view of the ship below, and the work being down below. Captain Kristtór Hallmundur stayed near the stern, deep in talks with the same ragged man Tchokito had spotted before. What was this ill-kempt man's role exactly, and why did he have the constant ear of the captain? Curious.
Øybiorn , alone of the crew, was given no role and merely stood around looking foolish. He did his best to put a brave face on it, shouting encouragement and useless bits of 'advice' to the others working near him. None of the men working with Tchokito exactly knew the man's story but they indicated he had powerful friends in Karlsgard. The tengu didn't know the Linnorm Lands had empty headed nobles, but he supposed all lands had useless people.
Finally all was made ready, and Hallmundur gave the final orders. The anchor was raised and the oars splashed into the water. A bald man at the prow heaved a great drum and set a steady stroke beat. Between the wind and the rowing, the ship was underway.
The crowd on the beach, who had watched the preparations with great interest, began to cheer and shout, some waving hats or cloaks as impromptu flags. Children ran up and down the beach, throwing stones as if to hurry the Linnorm's Breath on her way.
The riggers were called down to the deck, even as the ship started to roll over the cresting breakers off shore. As his feet hit the deck, the tengu noted, with some amusement, at the other sailors around him going through the usual personal rituals and superstitious habits. He heard foul prayers and sacred curses. he saw some men hopping on one foot, while one determined sailor circled the entire ship and knocked the rail every foot or so with a worn knuckle. It all seemed a bit silly to Tchokito but then again, he drew on a magical source and no idea how, so what did he know really?
They were truly making way at sea by the time Fej emerged on deck, covered in sweat and glowering. The man was muttering about tyrants when he splashed a bucket of seawater over his head. He stood next to Tchokito and they watched the shore slowly pull away and the crowds melt to a thin line of flesh colored blur.
"I don't mind the work, Tchokito." he said shaking his head, "But they treated us like dogs down there. Pointing and grunting and even a few kicks for the slower hands. Despicable." he paused, clearly cutting himself off mid speech and said instead, "And how was your time as a servant of the ship?"
Cheok caws rudely at Thirus's back as the dwarf walks off. "Behave yourself, Cheok," Tchokito murmurs as he makes his way towards Tarvok. "It's time for you and the others to stretch your wings and see how things look away from shore, don't you think?"
The familiar mutters darkly to himself as Tchokito speaks with the other three ravens, but he willingly takes off with them and flies out ahead of the Linnorm's Breath--as much to get away from annoying people as to actually keep watch.
The tengu, for his part, does his work dutifully, listening carefully to Tarvok, but he makes sure to keep an eye on the rest of the crew as he does so. He wonders, not for the first time, how long out from shore it will be before Øybiorn gets put in his place. Probably as soon as the coast is out of sight.
He has no ritual of his own to go through, and murmurs no prayer aloud with the others. The most Tchokito does is to briefly close his eyes and think, Desna ward these wandering feet, as he ponders just how much could go wrong with this crew.
He gives Fej a slight nod as the man approaches him, and listens impassively as he complains. In response he says, "I found it much better than being press-ganged by pirates, though I suppose you might find little difference thus far. There is quite the difference between working by choice and by force. The trouble aboard ship, of course, is that bad work can kill us all." He pointedly doesn't look at Øybiorn as he says this.
"By choice." Fej scoffs, eyes still fixed on the slowly retreating shore. "An illusion for most, friend Tchokito. Perhaps you are that rarest of things, a free agent, but most men are not. Sure, these sailors may think they are free, free to choose what they will but they do not. Why are they here? For money, for glory, or to escape a life behind. Those motives are not freely chosen, they are put on us by society and custom. Yoked as surely as any ox."
"You call them free, I call them slaves of society. Would you say a bird is free to migrate? No one forces him and yet...he could no more refuse to do it, then a slave is forced to dig a ditch. We are all captives, Tchokito, I am sure of it." He takes a breath and says, "Now, on language-"
But is cut off by a string of curses from the stern. Tchokito turns to toward the stern where a small jumble of farm animals is being herded together. In order to provide fresh food for at last part of the trip, a few chickens, pigs and a pair of goats have been brought aboard. To Tchokito's concern he sees Cheok resting on a line just above the chicken crates, a large egg in his beak.
"Give it back!" A crew man shouts, shaking his fist at the raven, just out of reach. "Damn crow, give it back!" He jumps but Cheok merely sways back a step, still gripping his ill-found prize.
The other crewmen curses, draws a knife and hefts it in his hand. "Crow stew tonight, I think?"
Tchokito sighs and strides sternwards, though a corner of his mind finds it amusing how Fej is . "Cheok! How many times have I told you not to steal from people? We're all very impressed by your cleverness, but I'd rather you not be at risk from cleavers. Perhaps if you put it back we could work on practicing some magic?"
The tengu hopes the temptation of working on his greatest goal will coax his familiar away from his 'showing off'.
Cheok eyes Tchokito for a moment, then tosses the egg at the crewman who'd suggested crow stew while flying over to Tchokito. The tengu sighs as his familiar settles on his arm.
"Obviously I'm going to have to keep you busy," he says. "Just so you know, this isn't a reward for your behavior. If you keep this up I'll stop helping you with this entirely."
Cheok caws a raucous rejection of this though. "Without me you don't have magic!"
"I can live without magic for a while if I have to, Cheok." Tchokito sighs. "Cheok, I want to be your friend, and I want to help you, but you have to not make enemies of the people around us. Not everyone is going to be so tolerant of you."
The raven ruffles his feathers. "Well that's their problem!"
"No, Cheok. You can't just do whatever you want and expect people to deal with it. You have the intelligence of a person, that means you have the moral responsibility of one, too." The witch fixes his familiar with a stern glare. "You have to think about other people, not just yourself. Would you want someone to steal your food?"
Cheok grumbles incoherently, but doesn't have an argument against this. Tchokito holds his glare for a little while before softening his gaze.
"Now, then, let's go over a basic light spell again. Remember how I told you it feels when I'm meditating in the morning? Let's see if you can feel that."
The two fall silent for several minutes, Tchokito reaching across his connection to his familiar trying to help guide the raven to how the magic 'within' him is stored, Cheok trying to sense the reaching and follow it.
Afternoon passes to evening as Tchokito does his best to distract Cheok from thievery with magic. The tengu has more time then he expects as Thirus is busy sorting the crew into shifts, gangs and work teams instead of actually having them, well, work. The time will come when idle hands will be drafted into some needed labor but for now, things are rather easy onboard ship. Land is turning into a faint brown line topped by a hazy fogbank, and the sea around the Linnorm's Breath is active but not too difficult to handle. A steady breeze from land makes their course out to sea simple, and only a few of the rolling waves have white caps. Tchoktio has survived worse.
The sun is just starting to tinge orange for sunset when Thirus finds him and says, "Captain wants to see you at the stern, Tchokito." The dwarf pauses, squints at the bird and says, "I understand it is an animal, but there will be no thieves on my ship. I'm putting it under your responsibility. If I catch it snatching eggs again, it'll be your problem, not mine." The dwarf stumps away.
Fej, who has watched the afternoon's magic lesson with considerable interest remarks in a low voice, "What a delight."
Tchokito makes his way to the stern of the ship, which is where the Captain seems to consider his own. As the tengu arrives he sees the Ulfen seaman is not alone. The halfling is still fussing with the rudder, tools scattered around him in a hemisphere of potential. More interestingly however is the mysterious dirty robed man is also here, and Tchokito gets a good look at for the first time.
The human man is rail thin and, frankly, rather unhealthy looking. His skin is grimy and lined, with a decades worth of grime worked into every pore. His feet are splayed and calluses, speaking to a lifetime in the backcountry with boots or sandals. But more troubling is the look in the man's filmy blue eyes. They are of hunger, of crazed devotion, of a fire unsated. They are not looking at Tchokito, or the crew, or even the ship. They are fixed on the distant horizon, as if the man is trying to will something into being or as if he can see something no one else can. Both worrying prospects.
Captain Kristtór Hallmundur is standing behind the man, a speculative look on his face as well. Perhaps he too sees the robed man's strange look. He does note the approaching tengu however and turns to face him.
"Ah, master Tchokito. Thank you for joining me. How was your first day at sea? I think she is a fine ship, wouldn't you say? A few chips to sand and lines to mend, but overall, she will do nicely." The man pauses and then goes on, "Thirus tells me you have some skills in the arcane arts?"
A tremor seems to pass through the robed man, who is still looking away, but it is hard to tell. Maybe it was just the breeze.
"Cheok is more than an animal, which is why he should know better," Tchokito replies to Thirus, giving the raven in question a severe look.
Cheok's response is to take off and go sulk on the mast.
The tengu walks over to Captain Hallmundur, noting the robed man near him. Tchokito warily hopes the man is fervently dedicated to one of the more benevolent gods or causes of the world... or at the very least that he does not hold too much sway over the captain.
He voices none of these thoughts as he gives the captain a slight bow. "It has been much more pleasant than the time I was captured by pirates," Tchokito replies in response to the Ulfen's first question. "The company has, on the whole, been enjoyable, and the ship trustworthy. She seems to have many stories before her--perhaps someday you might share some of these tales, Captain?"
The tengu is quietly glad that most humans find his expressions difficult to read when Kristtór asks his last question. His eyes flick only briefly to the hooded figure. Tchokito was aware that there were those who viewed magic... dimly. The question of how much influence the hooded man had on the ship seemed suddenly much more important.
"I have a small amount of skill with arcana, yes," he replies carefully. "It has been useful for protecting myself in my travels, and aiding others. It is a useful tool, but one to be careful with... much like a blade, I would say."
"That is the idea, sailor." Hallmundur says when Tchokito mentions stories, "To sail off the edge of the map into legend and myth. To live forever! I know you are not Ulfen, Tchokito but you must have some of that spirit in you, to make this journey. That desire to see past the horizon, to step on new land. To boldly go where no one has gone before. That is why we are all here, so I hope."
Another twinge from the robed man.
Hallmundur gives an approving nod when the tengu mentions he has 'a small amount of skill'. "Good, good. Then maybe you will appreciates the solution to our obvious problem. I assume you know the problem this mission faces?" Without a pause the Ulfen seaman goes on, "Azlant. Whatever happened to it, it wasn't neat or clean."
Yes, that would be a problem. The issue to sailing to Arcadia isn't the distance. Chelish, Andoran and Ulfen ships easily travel farther distances along established trade routes (if not so far from land). Isn't navigation either, the stars are easy enough to follow. It isn't even lack of charts, which can be overcome by luck, seamanship and sheer grit. No, the real issue is the scattered ruins of Azlant.
The robed man turns around at this one word, tearing his gaze from the horizon. Fiery eyes fix on both of them in turn, dirty face drawn into a strange, haughty sneer. Then he opens his mouth, words tumbling out in a rapid, barely discernable spatter.
"Time is the substance from which I am made. Time is a river which carries me along, but I am the river; it is a tiger that devours me, but I am the tiger; it is a fire that consumes me, but I am the fire."
With that he turns back toward the rolling seas, ever outward.
Hallmundur sighs but says, "Quite." He turns to Tchokito, "Whatever happened, it left a thousand, thousand island, reefs and rocks between us and our destination. No one has, or can chart them, but plenty have died there."
The robed man speaks again, not looking back this time.
"O, I have suffer'd
With those that I saw suffer: a brave vessel,
Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her,
Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knock
Against my very heart! Poor souls, they perished!"
"Which is what I am trying to avoid." Hallmundur says evenly and then waves a hand to the robed man, "Tchokito, meet Cleric Eliyyah, the last cleric of the Azlanti god of discovery , Elion."
"They who deny God have not seen Him" Is all Eliyyah says in reply to this introduction.
"And he is my, or should I say 'our', secret weapon." Hallmundur says grandly.
Tchokito relaxes very slightly when it's clear that Eliyyah is not one of those sorts of zealots. This is minigled with surpise at what he is.
He gives the robed man a slight bow. "I imagine your tale is a unique one indeed, Cleric Eliyyah," he says, "I hope it is good fortune for both you and us that you are among our company."
The tengu turns back to Captain Hallmundur. "I do hope to travel where few have gone, and fewer still returned, Captain." He didn't add that he hoped the Captain's reliance on an individual whose mental stability seemed questionable risked that, thankful again that humans are rarely good at reading tengu expressions.
Looking again at the cleric, he asks, "From the Captains words, may I assume you know a route through the ruined remains of Azlant?"
"Fortis fortuna adiuvat." Eliyyah says grimly in old Azlanti, mud spattered robe waving in t e breeze. A quite unpleasant reek of body odor and rotting leaves fills Tchokito's nose. Maybe a few nights at sea will wash the smells off him. Odds are it'll rain...eventually.
The Captain nods, "Well said, sailor, well said."
When the tengu attempts to engage the cleric again, the man actually turns around. His eyes though are roaming, unfixed. He raised a hand dramatically, fingers clenched into a tight fist.
"I am the prince who decides the destiny of rolling rivers. I keep on the straight and narrow path the righteous who follow Elion's counsel."
The Captain eyes this warily and answers, "I believe so, Tchokito. I have been studying Azlant for years, finding any sailor I could who tried to brave it and even searched old libraries in Karlsgard." Tchokito didn't know the Ulfen even had libraries let alone old or venerable ones. Curious. If he survived this journey maybe he would seek them out.
"And, a few weeks ago, I heard rumor of this 'crazy man' wandering the shores and cliffs up north. They said someone was raving about Azlant. So I went." Now Hallmundur's eyes are also fevered, revealing his own frenzied views. Was tchokito on a ship of fools? "And, after much searching, I found him. Alone, staring west. It took a long time, but between his ranting and my research, I found some truth."
Eliyyah ignores this story, still staring out.
"It is said that on the larger Azlant islands, there were items of magic and power that could, if heeded, direct one to the next items. Sort of like, a magical compass, or so I imagine. I think they were used as wayfinders for travelers when Azlant was whole and solid ground. Now the way is over water but they should still work, or so the rumor goes. They could help one thread the passages and reefs. At the very least, it would provide a constant guide. Eliyyah here says he can find and use said devices."
Silence as water laps against the ship's hull. "And I want you to go ashore and help him, when we reach our first island."
A gleam seemed to spark in Tchokito's black eyes. "You are asking me to step foot on the ruins of Azlant and seek out ancient magic there? I did not think you had enough time with me yet to know me so well, Captain."
The tengu laughs briefly at his own joke. "I will, of course. Cheok and my other raven friends will likely be of assistance in scouting for these wayfinders."
In truth the idea does excite him... though he does wish it were with more sane company. And with less chance of shipwreck on uncharted rocks. But he'd known a journey to Arcadia like this would be dangerous, so while he saw many things he could worry about in this plan, he did not voice them.
"Good, good, you encourage me!" The Captain says, grinning openly. "If the rest of the crew has your sprit and zest, we shall make short work of this journey. Discovery and bravery, that's the ticket."
He slaps Tchokito on the shoulder in a hearty fashion, enough to make the tengu wobble slightly.
"I have been a stranger in a strange land." Is all Eliyyah says but he does glance toward Tchoktio and make eye contact. The blue eyes seem sharp all of a sudden, like shards of ice. They seem to look right through the witch, slicing his skin as easily as a razor knife. And then they are gone again, searching the flat horizon.
Hallmundur shrugs, "I don't expect you two to go alone. Gods only knows what the islands are like these days. Quite apart from monsters and all that, the ground will probably be uneven and overgrown. Pick a few out of the crew to go with you." The Ulfen pauses, considers and then adds, "Just...don't tell them ahead of time. Let's keep this between us until the time comes. I would hate to build up hopes if it all turns out to be nothing and we have to resort to blindly groping our way through all of Azlant."
His voice becomes stronger then and he grips the rail, "Because I will, if I have to." His gaze also seeks out the unseen land beyond his sight, and the two of them, Hallmundur and Eliyyah standing side by side, makes Tchokito's feathers ruffle. Birds of a father, the humans always said.....
"Dismissed, sailor." Hallmunudr says softly, "For now."
The next few days pass in relative calm as the crew finds their sea legs. Thrius does his best to pound the assorted conglomerate sailors into a cohesive set of seamen, not mean feat. The dwarf is talented however and soon has the men and women pulling together as one, mostly. He has one bit of grit in the system however.
Øybiorn the Gold.
The useless man had only grown more troublesome over the past few days. He was never given jobs, no work stations and consistently got in the way. It was like having a very annoying passenger. He liked to shout vague encouragement or corrections to the sailors, who routinely ignored him. Øybiorn also got seasick and anytime the waves picked up even a little, saw him at the rail heaving his guts out. The Ulfen noble always tried to laugh this off, but he wasn't looking very healthy. Tchokito was surprised the man had not been put in his place yet. Ulfen captains were usually very rigid about such things. Rumor was Øybiorn was very well connected at court but that didn't seem like explanation enough to the tengu.
Dusk was turning into night a few days later, when he and Fej were finishing coiling up the day's cables and lines. The Milani man was still sour about being ordered around, which only led to Thirus giving him more tedious and nonesstinal tasks. The witch was debating if he could, or should help, when Oddný approached. The woman daredevil was a poor sailor but was learning quickly, proving to be both intelligent and brave if more then a bit self centered.
The woman, little more then an outline in the gloom (fires were strictly prohibited on board ship), strode up tot hem. Without preamble she turned toward Tchokito and said in a suspicious, quick voice, "I heard some of the others talking. They said you've been around the world, birdman. Is that true?" Despite her tough talk there is a strange catch to her voice, a very well hidden core of vulnerability.
"They also Golarion is round, like a ball. Is that what you found? There is no edge?" Her voice changes slightly, growing softer, pleading, "Is that true, there is no end to the world?"
Tchokito holds his expression steady as Eliyyah gazes at him, trying to not let the unease touch his face. He gives Captain Hallmundur a small bow when dismissed before returning to his duties, thoughtfully considering who he might wish to come with them... and hoping that they weren't going to resort to blindly groping.
And if they found some fascinating Azlanti ruins while they were at it? All the better.
"Azlanti means powerful magic?" Cheok's question broke the tengu from his thoughts.
A sparkle of humor touched his eyes at the similarity between his and his familiar's thoughts. "The Azlanti did have powerful magic, yes."
The raven ruffles his feathers excitedly. "Then maybe there will be something for me!"
Tchokito just chuckles at this.
When Oddný approaches him, it's all Tchokito can do to hide his surprise. "I have not personally been around the whole world--you might say I am on this ship to complete the circle. I have been from the eastern edges of Tian Xia to, obviously, the western edge of Avistan and beyond. But the old tales of my parents' homeland speak of sailors finding Arcadia to the east, while we sail there to the west, which I think is good enough proof that the world is round, yes?"
Oddný smile sat this and her voice recovers some of her usual vigor and bravado, "But you haven't actually seen it? You don't really know?" The blond haired women straightens slightly at this.
Fej laughs softly in the rising dusk, "I think they know Oddný . A cleric told me they figured it out centuries ago, stuff with shadows and math. They seemed quite sure."
Tchokito had heard the theory of course. Many times during his long travels he had encountered natural philosophers, sages and other academics pontificating on the subject. Complex analogies, descriptions of sails vanishing over the horizon and intricate mathematical treatments of paces and lengths of shadows. Frankly it seemed overly complicated to the tengu, who thought the obvious answer was easy enough to see.
Oddný dismisses all of this learning with a flick of her strong, wiry hands. "But that isn't the same as knowing, as seeing it." She strides away, the deck thumping under her boots.
Fej snorts, "Well, it must be nice to know everything all ready. I wonder why she cares though. She doesn't seem the type to make maps."
The next day dawned bright and clear, without a single cloud to mar the rising sun. Yellow light danced over the ocean's surface, which was still as a mill pond. Only the barest breeze wafted the ship forward, the pace achingly slow. Thcokito could hear Hallmundur and Thirus debating if they were going to use oars after breakfast had been fully served. One one hand it would speed them up, on the other hand, it would do no good if they exhausted the crew this early.
Fej, of course, had an opinion and he expressed it while they ate soft cheese and still fairly soft bread. They were only a few days from shore and rations were not bad. Few people were excited for when it would be just salt pork and hard tack. At least the ale would keep.
"They should hold a vote." Fej said, eyeing the whispering Captain and his First mate. "They have sailors on the vessel and their views should be heard. What do you think Tchokito. Doesn't that sound fair?"
Then, from high on the mast a shout rings out, "Land ho! A few points off starboard! Land ho!"
Everyone jumps up and stares out over the glittering sea. A few even run over to the rail to get a better view. On a Chelish ship such actions would earn a whipping but Ulfen ships are run far differently, whatever Fej might think. Tchokito strains his eyes but can only see, maybe, a blurry line of gray on the horizon. Land yes, but not detail.
Still, perhaps he would be ashore soon.
"Perhaps she does not wish to sail off the edge of the world," Tchokito murmurs to Fej when Oddný stalks off before he can respond. "Fear often hides behind bravado."
The next day, when Fej asked his question, Tchokito takes a moment to think. While it was true that he himself was not particularly fond of being ordered around, he also didn't want to shipwreck. Voting was a fine idea in many cases, but in this situation... well, he didn't want to give a vote to those who had no clue what they were doing.
"I did enjoy my time in Andoran," he says aloud, "But even they had captains for their ships. In times of danger, whether from foes or weather, there is no time for voting and no room for confusion. And a crew unaccustomed to listening to their captain in quiet times may be too slow in these times. So I see no trouble with letting the Captain choose here."
The call from the lookout draws Tchokito's attention, though quickly his thoughts go to what has occupied him often of late--who will come ashore with him. The struggle is that, while he has seen something of how the other members of the crew handle sailing, he has little idea of who can fight should the need arise.
Though they are mostly Ulfen. The answer to that is likely all of them, to a greater or lesser degree.
For now, however, he calls to his familiar. "Cheok, would you like to go take a look at the shore first?" he suggests.
Fej seems unconvinced by Tchokito's argument, saying, "Those who would give up essential liberty, to purchase a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety." He is obviously ready to enter into a heated debate but the land sighting distracts both of them thoroughly.
As the tengu surveys the slowly approaching land, he ponders the looming question ahead of him. Who to take in his landing party? It was a grave question that very well might make the difference between life and death. The trouble was...he barely knew any of them. The witch considered the little information he had picked up over the last few days at sea, snatched between work and sleep.
Obviously Captain Hallmundur was not in the running. If the man wanted to go ashore, he would have said so and taken command. While such a move would be highly unusual tot he point of unheard of in Chelish or Androan ships, it was not strange for Ulfen captains to lead such parties. Still, clearly the Captain wished to remained aboard this time.
The same consideration went for Thirus Undershale. The stout dwarf looked tough enough, and wore a heavy cutlass at his belt, but no one sign of weaponry. The ship probably needed him aboard however as standing off shore in unknown waters would require his skills.
A obvious contender was Hjalte Søgaard, the looming man who he had met at the docks. According to him at any rate he was a famed brawler and warrior who had participated in plenty of scraps and small fights both at sea and on land. Nothing very definitive however, certainly nothing proven. He was large though and well armed, points in his favor.
Oddný was another possibility. The wiry woman was strong and brave enough, that was sure. Even better she clearly had some desire to explore and seek no ground, a trait Tchokito valued. From the few stories he heard of her, she apparently was a highly regarded hunter and tracker back ashore. Tchokito had noticed a bow with her stowed gear.
Fej was a consideration. At least he had the courage of his conviction and would probably get along with Tchokito. A friend might be easier to get along with then a stranger. Then again, maybe he'd demand a vote on their course of action? Worse, he is unarmed and, as far as Tchokito knows, unskilled in combat. The man, at least, had never mentioned anything.
The elf was exotic and tempting but, Tchokito didn't even know her name. Elves were supposed to be famed warriors and fighters but the tengu knew such stories were exaggerations. Besides, he wasn't sure he could rely on her. She was armed however, with both sword and axe.
Øybiorn the Gold could be dismissed.
As for the rest of the crew, they seemed the usual rough mix of Ulfen sailors and fighters. Plenty were comfortable with an axe or knife, and strong enough to kill a man or beast with their bare hands. Few were real raiders, as their forefathers had been, but plenty dangerous enough.
Tchokito regretted not having had a chance to get to know the other members of the crew better... though with that in mind, he wondered just why the captain had assigned him the task of deciding who came with him. Though given the circumstances of putting this crew together, it was quite possible that Tchokito himself knew the crew just about as well as anyone else on board.
A troubling thought.
Regardless, the time had come to make a choice. He had to make a choice with the information he had, not the information he wished he had.
With that in mind... he was leaning towards Hjalte and Oddný. Between the two of them, he felt fairly confident at least one would be a proficient fighter if the need arose, and Oddný at least seemed likely to be a good scout. And while he suspected they would be at odds with each other... to be perfectly frank, he wasn't sure there was a pair from this crew he could call upon who would not have some friction with one another.
Tchokito sighs aloud. "Why did I get myself into this again?" he murmurs to his familiar.
"Because you're crazy," Cheok replies promptly, "But maybe there will be strong magic for me?"
The tengu chuckles quietly at this as he walks over to informt he captain of his chioce.
The land drifted every closer as Tchokito made his way back to the Captain. The wind had picked up slightly, pushing the boat along with erratic little bursts. Slowly the distant island resolved from a thin gray bar on the horizon to a dark shape, rising above the blue water. It was not a very large island, perhaps a mile or two is diameter, the shoreline rounding away from them in a rough circle.
Cheok finally decided it was close enough and took off with a flap. "Strong magic..." He said hopefully, a bit of wind lifting him quickly above the mast. Tuuli, Lyn and Sade followed after him with less fanfare, circling up as if they were hawks on land thermals. Soon they are mere black pinpricks and then vanish out of sight, flying toward the island.
"To fly....it would be a wonderous thing." Oddný said, watching the vanishing birds with an odd longing.
"Seems a long way to fall, to me." Tovak said, dropping down on the deck with a loud thump, bare feet hitting the boards hard. "I'll stick to ropes, if I have to go up."
Tchokito found Captain Hallmundur at the stern as usual, surveying the approaching land like everyone else. His intent however was nothing compared to the savage intensity of the man next to him. Eliyyah was still as a stone, and Tchokito wondered if he had moved an inch for the last few days. His face was fixed on the distant island as if he were a dying man and that was the only oasis. A torn and hungry look. Worse, he was muttering softly under his breath, a rapid, repeating chant too quiet to make out.
Was he really going to have to trust this man?
"Ah, Master Tchokito. I assume you are preparing for...what we discussed?" The Ulfen man said, vague with others in earshot. Upon hearing his selected names he nodded, "Fair choices, I think. I'd go ashore myself and be done with it, but these are unknown waters. Speaking of which, leadsmen!"
He shouted to a sailor hunched over the side with a line, plumbing the depths.
"Plenty of water under us Captain!" the man shouted back.
Hallmundur nodded, and the ship slowly worked toward the shore.
Time passed and the island slowly grew in shape. It became a jagged ridge of stony hills reaching toward the sky and a set of gravel gray beaches. As far as Tchokito or anyone else could see, they saw no signs of life or movement ashore. Just waves endlessly lapping on the rocks.
Tchokito got no flashes of concern or fear from that strange link he shared with Cheok. That bond could be troublesome and hard to pin down, but if the raven felt in danger the witch could feel it. Today however, it seemed as calm as ever. Whatever surprises the island had in store, they didn't register to Cheok.
Soon enough his little flock came winging back, black leaves on the wind. They settle in the rigging, cawing loudly. Cheok scuttles down toward Tchokito and reports in.
"All rocks. Just rocks. No trees. No people. No magic!" he says, obviously peeved at the last. "Rocks."
"A disappointment, but perhaps it is the case that the magic is hidden?" Tchokito suggests to his disappointed familiar. "If not... we shall have to hope the captain's navigational skills are up to the task without his plan. If what we seek is there, it will take a thorough search. How large was the island?"
After Cheok answers, the witch focuses a moment on his magic, then calls out to the other three ravens. "Come, friends. Here is food as thanks."
The tengu takes out some of the assorted snacks he keeps on himself for just this purpose and holds them out as the three (and Cheok) swoop past and take their rewards. That done he turns back to Captain Hallmundur and murmurs, "It seems what we seek is not obvious from the air. Likely we will have to search carefully for it."
Tchokito wonders just how much the Captain was relying on Eliyyah, or if he suspected all along he would have to press on without these ancient waymarkers. He just hopes that, if the island is as barren as Cheok says, it is not too serious a blow to their chance of crossing the ocean alive.
Cheok brightens at Tchokitos's words. "Hidden magic.....strong magic?" The raven takes a sideways hop down the line, closer to the tengu. His tiny bright eyes, so like Tchokito's own, flash in the bright morning sun. Black feathers ruffle with a soft sibilant rustle. The others push in as well, seeking Tchokito's food. They squawk and whistle in agreement with Cheok's words.
"Rocks. Rocks! No food."
The question about size makes Cheok pause. The concept of units of measurement often confounded the raven and the others could not even begin to grapple with it. It was not that animals were inattentive or inexact. Tchokito knew that a cat calculating a pounce or a wolf contemplating a hunt knew exactly how much energy it would expend versus how filling the meal would be. They just did not consider it in light of abstract units of measurement. Animal simply did not think that way. After mentally pondering it for a few moments Cheok ventured.
"Not big. Cross it in easy morning." So, a few miles perhaps. Maybe more if the raven meant 'flying' over it instead of walking. Even now his friend sometimes forget the tengu was not generally airborne. Still, it was not an overly large island.
Hallmundur nods, "Still, not all hope is lost. It could be in a cave or buried in some ruins. I just hope it is still useable."
Eliyyah suddenly stirred, apparently hearing the whispered conversation. "Ideo credendum quod incredibile."
The Ulfen captain frowned and then shrugged, "The Gods will provide, Tchokito. Gorum owes me one."
Then he turned to the crew and raised his voice, "We had made our first landfall! A first step to our greater glory. We shall pass through ruined Azlant and the wonders therein. Tchokito, I ask you to take a few ashore and explore, and to see what might be found."
Taking a breath he adds, "Oddný. Hjalte. You are to join him and keep him safe. Master Eliyyah will also go ashore for reason which, I hope, will become clear. Much...may depend on him."
Clearly the seaman is hoping his mysterious words will keep the crew happy but Oddný is less then impressed. "The crazy man and the sage?" The wiry woman snorts, "Hjalte is all right, I know he won't run but the others? Cayden Cailean's left eye, they will probably wet themselves if we find some monsters."
Eliyyah tears his gaze away from the now quite close shore. Those strange flaring eyes fix on Oddný who, despite her bold and brave stance takes a step away from the dirty and wild cleric.
"Hoch klingt das Lied vom braven Mann,
Wie Orgelton und Glockenklang;
Wer hohes Muths sich rühmen kann
Den lohnt nicht Gold, den lohnt Gesang." Even Tchokito has no idea what language that is and hew knows many.
"Great." Oddný says, rolling her eyes. Hjalte just laughs, a booming rolling sound like trees falling down a gravelly slope.
"Hjalte will keep you all safe, birdman and crazy man alike." The Ulfen warrior said.
Then a new voice broke in, "Excellent!" Øybiorn strode toward the middle of the assembled sailors. "A fine group we shall make, exploring new lands and perhaps discovering what happened to mighty and ancient Azlant! Come, fellow sailors. Let us seek our destiny!"
A long moment of silence and then, to Tchokito's surprise Hallmundur shrugs, "Very well. You may go on the landing party."
Maybe he is hoping the blond man will die some horrible, exotic death on the island? Or maybe Hjalte will just get bored and push him off a cliff?
"If there is hidden magic, we might get lucky, but we also might not, Cheok. It's hard to know what might be left after so long," the witch cautions his familiar.
Tchokito is... less than surprised to find Øybiorn pushing himself into the landing party, though he rather wished Captain Hallmundur would finally reign the man in. Perhaps he expected the nobleman to overstep himself badly enough that his fall was blatantly his own fault. The tengu tries to convince himself that another sword-arm will be useful if they do encounter danger on the island, but from Cheok's description, their most likely dangers will be boredom and getting on each other's nerves.
He does, however, take a moment to marvel at the fact that Eliyyah knows languages Tchokito himself does not. Perhaps it is ancient Azlanti? Or some other forgotten language?
"Come, you four, gather whatever you need. We'll be a few hours at the very least--the island isn't large, from what my raven friends say, but anything of use to us will likely be hidden. As far as they could see it is a barren rock, but if there are some monsters hiding there? Well, perhaps they shall find out that I've survived my years of journeying through more than just swift feet." There seems to be a bit of a glint to his gaze as he says this last bit.
"Gather at the boat. Once we're all there, we'll row over to the island," the tengu continues firmly. He wasn't quite sure why Hallmundur had put him in charge, but with this group he knew that he would have to fight (hopefully only figuratively) to retain any semblance of authority.
"Barren rock?" Oddný says with disappointment. "I thought this was Azlant. All the temples and magic and stuff. Piles of treasures and monster."
Øybiorn looks a bit concerned at this, glances at Tchokito and then says, "I am sure we will bravely face whatever we find. Ulfen never flinch from danger! Now, to the boat!"
The four of them climb into the whaleboat, which is slowly lowered into the water. Not all Ulfen warships carry such smaller vessels but clearly Hallmundur expected to run across unknown and dangerous shores where a smaller boat to at least scout is useful. It was one thing to run a ship aground a wide sandy beach on a known shore for some raiding, quite another to explore the rocky inlets of broken Azlant or distant Arcadia. Cheok and the other ravens circle overhead, creating a rather worrying omen for many of the crew.
There are no waves or calls as they drift away from the Linnorm's Breath, which is slightly concerning. Tchokito wonders if it is because the crew is so new and raw, or because Azlant is considered a cursed shore. Or maybe they too are hoping Øybiorn never comes back.
Hjalte and Tchokito rows them toward the shore, with Oddný keeping watch for reefs, sandbars and other dangers. Øybiorn doesn't even offer to take a turn, not that they would trust him with an oar. Finally, after an hour or so of heavy work the bottom of the little boat scrapes on the rocky shore. They all step out, avoiding the small waves as Hjalte heaves the boat out of reach of any shifting tides.
The land ahead is a low beach of rocky gravel and sand, gray as a seal's hide. Past the beach the land rises in low rocky hills that hide anything beyond. It takes Tchokito to notice one very odd thing. There is no plant life. At all. Not a speck of green visible anywhere, not even up past the surfline. Choek had been right. All rocks. Still, not a single plant?
"Hey, look!" Oddný calls out pointing slightly up the rocky beach. There, just visible past a rolling rocky hill is a paved, stone road leading up into the higher ground. "A road should make it easier."
Tchokito eyes the road and the island with a narrowed gaze. "Yes, this is Azlant. Any treasures that survive after so long will be either well-warded or well-hidden," he states, in answer to Oddný's earlier statement. "Or perhaps in this case, inherently dangerous. It is not natural for there to be no life here. Wind and wave should have brought seeds to these shores and pounded stone to soil enough for them to sprout. That they have not suggests lingering magic that is hostile to life."
"This road likely leads to our goal, but let me examine the area for a moment first." The witch chants a brief spell, and his eyes take on a faint azure glow. He focuses his gaze on the surrounding area and particularly on the road.
Oddný frowns at Tchkito's brief mention of ecological succession and geologic theory. "What do you mean? I thought the Gods put all the plants and dirt and stuff?"
Hjalte sniffs the air and shrugs, "Not all islands have plants, birdman." But then the hulking man narrows his eyes, "But no birds. Strange."
And that was true. Any islands of any size off the coast was usually dotted with seabird colonies, the safe area making perfect nesting sites. No desolate island, no matter how rocky or forlorn was free of the screeching multitudes of gulls, terns and albatross. Here though, there was nothing.
Tchokito reaches out into that strange power of his, that reservoir of magic that is gifted to him through some unknown connection. Around him the world fades somewhat, growing a bit dim as if seen through a very thin veil of oilskin. The mundane world falling back a bit, to highlight possible magic. From long experience Tchokito knows if there is any magic about, it will glow like a firefly in the dusk.
And..it does? Sort of? There is a very faint aura of magic...everywhere. Like a light dusting of glittering power spread over a table. The ground, the rocks, even the hills, all cloaked in a very dim halo of arcane power. It is very old, very faint and very strange. There is no identifiable spells or enchantments as he might find normally. But whatever was here was still here...somehow. Transmutation, perhaps? It was hard to tell. It doesn't seem to be doing anything, at least at the moment.
But his discovery is sensed by Cheok, always on the alert, "Magic! Hidden Magic!"
The others glance at the raven's sudden babble but cannot make sense of it. Then, to everyone's shock Eliyyah steps forward and says, in cracked but clear Common, "It is here." And he points a dirty, finger toward the road.
Tchokito is glad enough that Eliyyah's declaration removed the necessity of explaining the issues with Oddný's question. That could be a long discussion for a later time.
"There is magic here--very old magic, as one would expect from Azlant. It does not seem to pose a present danger, but we should keep a wary eye out for anything more out of the ordinary. Particularly if you see engraved patterns, as they might be magic runes. Now, let us follow this road, as Cleric Eliyyah has said. It should lead us to our goal."
Tchokito strides confidently towards the road, though he remains wary of anything out of place. As he does so he says to Cheok, Yes, there is magic here, but it is old and faded. We should be careful with it. It could be unpredictable. But it must have a source here somewhere.
"You are too timid, master tengu." Øybiorn the Gold says, sniffing, "I would say cowardice, if I did not have every confidence in the Captain in selecting a worthy crew and landing party. An Ulfen never hesitates to go where he wishes!"
He points at the road dramatically, "Forward. Ever forward! Without fear or worry!" A pause and then, "Hjalte, lead the way!"
The big warrior shrugs and the party makes their way up the beach and toward the road. All is silent except for the endless crashing of the waves on the gray shore and the clatter of round stones under their feet.
Tchokito only notices the barest trace of driftwood and seaweed wrack cast up on the shore. Far too little of it, but even the sight of a little organic remains comforts him. At the very least, it makes it feel like a real beach.
They reach the road without incident. It is well paved with smooth gray stones, sunk deep into the earth. Along each side was a narrow stone gutter, worn from endless years of collecting runoff. The road is weathered and stained but still very serviceable, leading up into the rocky hills at a gentle gradient.
Glancing behind them, back over the water, they can just make out the Linnorm's Breath a low gray shape in the blue water, bobbing in the gentle waves. It is a reassuring sight, despite having only been their home for a week. When they step on the road, they ship vanishes from sight, hidden by the rise of the land. it is like a lifeline sinking below the waves.
They climb up the slope, keeping to the road. On each side the rounded inclines of stony hills spill out, tumbling down toward the lapping waves below. There are signs of old rockfalls and landslides in the past, but nothing inhibits them. The day grows hot and bright overhead, with the sun rising quickly in the east. There are no clouds and the sky is like a blue bowl over them, flaring intensely with heat.
Ahead of them they slowly crawl toward the crest of the main ridgeline, which hides the interior of the island from them. Only Eliyyah moves with speed and surety, like a man returned to his homeland after years away, where he knows every rock and crevice. He marches ahead, eyes forward, shoulders straight.
Rocks ahead. Cheok sounds merrily, flying overhead, able to see farther. I wonder where the magic is hidden...under the rocks? Inside them?
Inside them? What did the crow mean?
Tchokito reaches the crest of the hill and is suddenly stopped by a very strange sight.
A forest.
The landward side of the hill is covered in a growth of sweeping trees, getting taller the farther downhill on goes. Towering trunks with sinuous sweeping boughs, densely covered with leaves. They lean out over the road, which plunges steeply and is soon lost below. But the tengu has no eye for the road at the moment for he is marveling at the trees themselves. They are all made of stone.
Every trunk, branch and leaf is solid rock.
All rocks.
Anger sparks in Tchokito's eyes at Øybiorn's words. He does not mind the accusation of cowardice--as a tengu traveling in many lands, he has been called worse--but for the Ulfen to so quickly go from accusations of cowardice to commanding another man to go in front sparks a hint of genuine anger at Øybiorn.
"I am, as you have so keenly observed, not Ulfen," he says aloud, his voice smooth in spite of his anger. "Forgive me for my ignorance of your ways, but does not the mightiest warrior among you usually take the front?"
His barb thrown, the tengu falls in behind Hjalte, eyes darting back and forth in search of danger or clues as to the cause of the island's sterility.
He comes to an abrupt halt when he sees the petrified forest, before he can respond to Cheok's unhelpful comment. The witch's mind staggers at the thought of the power required to cause petrification at this scale--assuming that is what happened. Hurriedly he casts detect magic and scans the area for active effects.
After a moment of concentration, his anxiety eases just a little. "Whatever magic caused this is not currently active," he reports, stepping towards one of the trees. He begins to examine it, seeing if he can determine whether it is a petrified tree or if it was created out of stone from the beginning.
As he examines the stone tree, he calls up to Cheok, "Whatever magic caused this has faded, but the source is likely up ahead."
To the rest of the group he says, "The magic here is mostly faded. Whatever did this has departed... or lies dormant ahead. Let us keep moving forward, but be wary of waking it."
Øybiorn frowns for a moment at Tchokito's reply and, frankly, looks shocked anyone would call him out for his blatant hypocrisy. Finally he merely gives a condescending smile, "How little you know of battle and danger then. The strongest and bravest are often forced to take the rear, to protect against creeping dangers behind. It is not a wanted task, and I would prefer to lead the vanguard, but I would not question another's honor or courage. Only those beyond reproach can take the rear."
The argument peters out when they find the trees however."Source..." Cheok echoes with eagerness and replies, "We can turn things to stone? Useful."
Tchokito is not the only one amazed. Hjalte looks with confusion at the petrified forest, squinting. "Is it real, birdman? Or does Hjalte's eyes fool him?"
Oddný looks more with wonder and awe then fear. "Have you ever seen anything like that before, traveler?" She says to Tchokito, a slight mock in her voice, "Maybe there is more to see then you know and your theories?" But it is not unkind, more of someone trying to find a known point of reference in sudden confusion.
Øybiorn merely shrugs, still at the rear.
Eliyyah scans the trees with approval and a total lack of surprise. Had the man known what was here? Has he been here before? And did it matter considering he was as mad as a hatter. "Azlant."Is all he says, voice sober but calm.
They descend the hill as a group, sticking tighter together. There is a bit of nervous tension in the air but also mixed curiosity and amazement. Everyone is, apparently, unsure how scared to be. Cheok and the other ravens settle on a stony branch and, when they do suddenly become rock, everyone relaxes. Stone trees were fascinating but perhaps not dangerous.
Tchoktio steps right up to one of them, which looks like a mighty fir tree and examines it closely. One thing becomes instantly clear. This is not the work of a mortal artist, no matter how talented the ancient Azlants might have been. The stone tree has every detail of a real, living tree. Tiny curls of bark, knobs of old growth, swirls of color. Stony moss still clings to the underside of the boughs. Peering closer Tchoktio can even see tiny pretified insects frozen in place. Every detail, solidified in an apparent instant, with no warning.
And he glances up to see dozens, hundreds of other trees. An entire forest, turned to stone. What had happened here? What mystery of Old Azlant lay in these trees? Who could say and that was not his errand here. Still, it did worry him. Would it happen again? His arcane knowledge was frustratingly useless here.
Ahead of them the road wound through the trees, curving slightly with the uneven ground. It seemed to be going someplace, anyway.
Tchokito notes Øybiorn's swift reply. Perhaps he had a courtier's quick wits with words, then. Pondering whether his inclusion on this journey was more or less likely to be an attempt at being permanently rid of him based on this evidence was quickly driven from the tengu's mind by their discovery, however.
"This is the sort of thing I travel for, Oddný," he comments as he finishes his examination of the tree. "To keep seeing things I have never seen before."
There's a spark of excitement in his eyes as he rejoins the group. "Azlant indeed. Magic on this scale would be unimaginable even for the greatest of modern archmages. Whatever caused this was a power not to be had in our age."
Realizing his familiar was probably listening in, he adds an aside to Cheok. "And I doubt we'll be able to claim such a power fully for ourselves... but perhaps there will be something that remains. At the least knowledge to be had."
Tchokito returns to the road and starts continuing down it. "I suspect that any answers to this mystery will lie ahead. Come, let us press onward, and see if we can find what we seek here."
Oddný seems to consider his words but says nothing, just peering up at the strange canopy overhead with obvious wonder. The others accept his words easily enough, for there isn't much to argue with. Obviously someone turned these trees to stone and that wasn't something one saw everyday.
Cheok swept from tree to tree, staying close, while the other ravens wandered farther afield. The black shapes moving among the immobile branches was an odd sight, as if the birds were flying through a field of tall tombstones. Cheok took a firm grip on a rocky branch near Tchokito.
"You think they were once trees?" The raven says with obvious surprise, clearly not having considered that. Tchokito figured that perhaps birds saw the world differently then he and these did not seem a marvel of themselves. But if Tchoktio said they were magic, his friend was deeply interested.
"But why turn them to stone?" The raven turned a beady eye on a stock-still leaf near his head. "Is it stone all the way through?" Before Tchokito could stop him, the raven pecked at the leaf with sudden speed.
There was a cracking sound as the thin and brittle rock gave way under his blow. In an instant the leaf had fully broken in two, only a small bit quivering on the rocky stem. With a tiny clatter the rest fell to the stony ground. Then something very odd happened.
Cheok gave a angry squawk and hopped back as a strange shape issued from the broken leaf. Filmy and semi-transparent, like wet silk, it turned and twisted. No, more like a bit of solid fog. The shape of a life and the barest suggestion of green, of life. It wavered for a few moments in the air and then gradually dissolved into nothingness.
No one else in the group noticed, still considering the strange forest and, as usual, ignoring Tchokito's 'pets'.
"What was that?" Cheok said curiously, and hopped up to more leaves.
"They were almost certainly once trees," Tchokito informs his familiar, wondering again at the differences in Cheok's thinking in spite of his growing intelligence. "As for why, I suspect it is more of a side effect of..."
He is interrupted by the raven's impulsive experiment. While his first instinct is to make certain Cheok isn't harmed, and his second to reprove the raven, the phenomenon that follows the stone's breaking arrests his tongue before he can speak. He wracks his brain for what this could mean.
Stooping down he examines the broken leaf. "I'm not quite certain, Cheok. It's almost as if something is... trapped within the stone, somehow... perhaps it's been used as a form of stasis? Some Azlanti who knew of the coming destruction and sought to preserve something? Or something more sinister... a side effect of drawing on the power of the land, perhaps..."
Tchokito is much to caught up in theorizing to realize that he's stopped moving in front of the humans and started muttering in bird sounds.
Tchokito glances around and sees everyone, except Eliyyah, is staring at him. The looks are like one gives a wandering and mumbling beggar in a busy street square, a combination of concern and pity.
"Tckokito...are you talking to that bird?" Oddný says carefully.
Hjalte waves a meaty hand and replies obviously unconcerned, "Yes. Bird man talk to birds. All witches do it. Hjlate has seen many. What does bird say, bird-man?"
Øybiorn merely mutters to himself, "The man is obviously mad."
Part of Tchokito's mind is already focusing on making sense of what just happened to that leaf. It had been very strange and yet, a memory stirred...
The tengu witch has traveled far and wide, and had seen many things that have caught his curious eye. He recalled a small town alongside the Path of Aganhei, that trading route that surmounted the Crown fo the World. The town hadn't been much, merely a waystop for passing caravans that eked a living out of a few nearby boreal forests and a lake. Tckkito had been part of a fairly large trading caravan at the time, little more then a passenger really.
Still, he had been intrigued when the townspeople had asked for help. Apparently the local graveyard had become haunted and the restless dead a danger during the cold nights of winter. The caravan happened to have a cleric of Pharasma, who agreed to help. The somber woman had invited Tckokito along to witness her attempt to rid the townsfolk of their undead problem, and the tengu, as curious as ever, tagged along.
It had been a bitterly cold night, with no wind or hint of breeze. It should have been perfectly quiet in the small graveyard, midnight under the distant stars and racing northern lights. And yet...the ground had trembled uneasily. Quivering, like a nervous dog. The cleic had nodded and knelt to pray. Tchokito had no idea what was said, promised or asked for but after a long silence a wind arose, a cutting breeze that seemed stronger then it should, and scented with petrichor.
A low sigh had filled his ears, the graveyard grew still and a thin mist had risen over the now still dead. It had been tinged with faint colors and rustled like a sheet in the wind. Then vanished.
That was what the leaf had looked like. Like the fragments of a suddenly released soul.
Tchokito turns and looks up to the others, even as his mind turns over what he'd seen. Did this mean that all that had turned to stone here were still 'alive', in the sense that their souls had not been released to the Great Beyond? That was typical of petrification.
He had to set such thoughts aside for now. He'd rather not have another 'we must drag him off to the cleric!' episode, especially since in the current circumstances it might not be so gentle.
"I can speak the tongues of birds, yes," he says to the trio of Ulfen. "For both better and worse, they do not see the world as we do. For example, Cheok here initially looked at all of this about us," he gestures at the petrified forest, "And summarized it as 'rocks'."
The tengu caws a laugh. "After all, to a bird, what is all this but a lot of inedible stone? Hence why there are limits to my feathered friends' scouting abilities. We shall have to find out what is ahead for ourselves."
As he walks back to the road, he does say one last thing to his familiar. "Be careful, Cheok... but whatever magic remains here would likely be in buildings like we saw last spring."
The raven needs no further encouragement, taking to the air as his master hopes Cheok will be careful and not get himself hurt. He wasn't sure if his familiar really remembered when they'd been clambering around in those old Thassilonian ruins last spring, but it seemed likely given the raven's obsession with magic (even though the ruins had hidden only a few trinkets). The historian in him winced at comparing Azlanti and Thassilonian architecture, but to a bird, what would the difference be?
Tchokito monitors his link with Cheok as he rejoins the little group, not sure if he's more wary of feelings of fear or excitement, though he does know the raven has a well-developed sense of self-preservation that usually wins out over his curiosity and hunger for magic. Aloud, he says only, "If there is anything large or especially flying coming towards us, we can trust my ravens to warn us, but more subtle dangers we shall have to rely on our own eyes to spot. For example, magic capable of turning us to stone just as this forest was petrified. Come, let us keep going."
"Always careful."[/b] Cheok replies, nimbly dodging the stone branches that create a strange immobile net above Tchokito's head. [i]"Magic is dangerous....but useful."
Oddly wise words from the raven. Maybe he was growing up?
Øybiorn says, "Sounds like a poor scout. Not recognizing danger. They didn't see anything odd about an entire stone forest?" The blonde haired man snorts to himself but then grows silent when no one else backs him up. Tchokito guesses this is more due to distaste for Øybiorn then a great liking for Cheok.
Eliyyah is waiting impatiently along the road, looking ahead. When the group starts moving again, he eagerly sets a quick pace.
The road winds through the bizarre forest for awhile, curving slightly over an uneven set of low rolling hills. Around them the stone trees loom close, often leaning out over the road, like forbidding statues guarding the way. Despite their apparent benign appearance, Tchokito can't help but feel he can suddenly sense the souls trapped inside each one. It was not an image he wished to imagine. Dying was one thing, it happened to everyone eventually. Even his own story would, eventually, come to an end at the Boneyard. But to end up writhing inside a stone version of himself for untold centuries?
He shuddered.
Ahead, the road rises again up to another crest. Tchoktio quickens his pace, curious to see what lies ahead. Around them the forest starts to fade away, the trees becoming rare up the rocky slope. His hopes for something interesting rise when he spots Eliyyah, ahead as always, standing at the summit of the road. However mad he seemed, the cleric at least seemed to pause at strange sights.
And the sight when the witch crested hill was quite strange.
The hill was bare on top with no trees, stone or otherwise and offered a board view from the summit. As his eyes adjusted to the sudden light after the gray twilight of the petrified trees, Tchoktio started at a distance and worked his way in.
In the far distance he could see the endless rollers of the Arcadian Sea, slowing moving toward him. They had, apparently, reached the far coast or at least some of it. He guessed anyway for he could not see their ship from here, so at least they had no gone in a circle.
In front of the water stood a wide bowl of land, filled with more stones. This time not the twining, organic shapes of trees however, but the blocky squares of man-made structures. Tchokito can see buildings of all kinds, ranging from small shack-like hovels in the streets, to mansions to swaybacked warehouses. At the far end of the rocky town, near what he images is the beach, a large round building. The road they are standing on seems to lead toward it.
To his surprise however there is something even more interesting closer at hand. Tchokito and Eliyyah are not alone on this summit.
A few feet off the road is a circle men, seated around a burned out campfire. There are tents, pallets, even a small pile of firewood near at hand. A few of the men sit on pulled up logs, others casually on the ground. All are dressed in Ulfen war fashion, with ornate helmets, war belts and heavily armed. Axes and swords hang from their belts, and shields sit near them.
And all, of course, are made of solid stone.
Near them a rough runestone stands, dull and dour in the bright sun, all colors washed from the gray rock. Cheok sits on it and says, "All stone." His usual chipper voice sounds doleful and somber.
The witch is a bit surprised at his familiar's remark. While they'd been traveling together for many years, Tchokito had gotten accustomed to Cheok's usual brash mannerisms, so hearing this relatively introspective statement was something out of the ordinary. Perhaps there was hope for the raven yet.
Tchokito shivers when he sees the petrified Ulfens. He had already suspected from the lack of erosion that this petrification did not date back to the time of Azlant, though with the power of the magic involved he had not been certain. Now, however...
...he was fairly certain this had happened recently.
"This is why I suggested caution. I have no desire to end up like them," the tengu says, nodding at petrified Ulfen. "This is beyond my skill to undo, much less prevent. On that subject, allow me to check for active magical effects upon them."
Tchokito casts detect magic and observes the petrified people.
As he makes his observations, he agrees with Cheok. "Yes, it is a tragedy that this happened. Magic is dangerous, as you said, when it is not carefully controlled. All power is like that, I think."
When he finds no evidence of active magic, he waves the others forward. "There is still no sign of present danger, just lingering traces of the power that did this," he said. "But see here, there is a runestone. Perhaps it will tell us something of how this happened?"
The tengu walks over to read it himself.