Dolion listens to the conversation between the elf and Zappora waiting for a moment to chime in and impress the young lady. He finds his moment while she is helping her father. ”Kymil isn’t a Brucha elf either. The Brucha are more reclusive and look slightly different. I think he is just a regular elf… well err… I mean common variety elf,” he said with a shrug.
Whatever passes for common among his lot that is.
Ky lets out a silvery laugh and smiles back at his friends.
"And some of my people said that there is little difference between humans! The Brucha are a strange lot...they broke off from the rest of our people centuries ago..."
A faraway look comes over the young elf's face as if he were remembering this far distant time.
Osseus frowns. ”These Brucha, they sound like a… complicated folk. I’d never heard of them until now.”
Bugger it, we could spend all day talking about this kin and that... Pleasant travels to you both, he says to the wagoneers. C'mon you lot, let's make a move on, he says squaring his pack and heading towards the settlement.
Felder pushes himself back to his feet with his walking stick and says, "Indeed, the miles are not growing any shorter. I should like to make the village before sunset."
You leave the tinker and his daughter behind as they give their oxen a longer break after having pulled the wagon on the tiring switchback trail up the Magalies Escarpment.
Less than an hour later you approach a few scattered fields surrounding a small community surrounded by a 15 foot wooden palisade wall. Judging by the width of the walls, you can't imagine there are more than a dozen buildings within the settlement.
The Abaddon Forest looms is no more than a quarter mile beyond the settlement, mist already beginning to settle in for the night, and the echoing of some large raptor birds calling breaking the silence.
Two guards holding spears stand guard next to the partially open gate. They wave to you as you get closer.
"Welcome to the Canton of Velders, travellers, but shake a leg as we're closing the gate very soon. You're welcome to stay the night at Naomi's, she usually has a room free these days, what with the drop-off in travelers from outside. If you're bringing trouble, though, we ask that you turn around and come back the way you came. We've got enough of that without any new trouble from without."
When looking over the dark forest before you, a single item seems to stretch further above the canopy of the woods. It is the remains of some great tree, now looking like a skeletal hand reaching up from the forest into the sky. The tree must have been ancient even before it had died and there are no others like it within sight.
Many call the tree a 'Fey Oak" as the old stories tell of it being planted centuries ago by the elves that dwelt in these woods. It supposedly came from the 'Lands of Fairey" and was brought by the elves when they settled in the world. Stories tell of people who have disappeared near the tree, or of a secret door that opens on the spring and winter equinox. This door leads to a land of Fey and those people who enter the tree are sometimes found many years later...unaged and adamant they were gone just "one short night".
People steer clear of the tree and none have ever thought of cutting it down...it is just too big and too scary.
Kymil bows to the other and moves to take his leave.
"There is someone I have not seen for some time and I wish to visit them while we are here. I can catch up with the rest of you tomorrow. Have a pleasant evening."
With that, the eld heads off into the dark forest, disappearing into its mysterious depths.
The ancient tree is actually from the lands of the fey and was indeed planted by the Eldar when they first arrived in Brun. It housed (or imprisoned) one of the lesser races of fey, the race of nymphs called a Dryad. This one was placed here as a guard and watcher to alert the Eldar of anything entering their woods. Once the eldar had settled into their lives as elves, the dryad was approached and offered freedom, but it turns out that she had thrived in this area and did not see her tree as a prison but rather a home for many local creatures, who had become her friends.
So it was that this particular dryad, called Drosera, stayed behind when the elves migrated south. She still watches the woods and greets those who know her, but the years have been difficult and with the elven magic slowly leaving the land, her tree has taken on a look of death, even though it is still quite alive.
Kymil knows Drosera quite well, as she taught him magic and prepared the young elf for his travels to the Human lands when he came here over 100 years ago on pilgrimage. He visits any chance he gets...which is the first in quite some time.
The wood is much as you remember it, dark and brooding, and while this puts fear into the younger-lived races, you see it merely as a sign of its age and wisdom, in the same way that an old elf can be silent, mysterious, and more than a little off-putting.
As you approach the fey oak, you can see that it still looks dead, although you know better, as it always sends out a few small shoots every spring even though it does not have the leaf coverage that it did a century ago. You stop a respectful distance from the base of the tree and offer your greetings in the melifluous tounge of the faerie. You expect it to take a while for Drosera to answer, she is after all a very old dryad, but when you do not hear from her or sense her presence after 15 or 20 minutes, you begin to worry. Could something be wrong? Could her spirit finally have returned to Fairyland?
Damn weirdo..., he mutters under his breath as the elf leaves on his own errand. Never will understand him.
He addresses the gate person. No trouble from us. Why? What troubles have you struck of late? We might have a solution if we can hit on an arrangement.
You can find us at Naomi's... which is... what building again?
|
After 20 minutes of waiting to greet his old friend and mentor, Ky becomes concerned.
Where could she be? Has she finally taken the sleep that will detach her from the tree and send her spirit back to the feylands? Ky thinks as he looks over the ancient oak.
The tree is fully 25 feet in diameter and rises some 100 feet overhead. While it looks to be dead, the bark is still thick and the limbs supple and powerful.
Kymil walks around the tree again and again trying to discover anything that might be amiss.
The guard points toward the middle of the settlement when Knuckles asks his question. "It's the big one in the middle of the village made out of stone, you can't miss it."
Naomi runs the Shady Dragon Inn? Got it... I'll head over now.
What unnatural acts is he going to perform in those wood? Dolion thought as the elf made a hasty departure into the woods. He turned to the task at hand and walked through the gate of Velders heading toward the Shady Dragon Inn. The thief couldn’t help but look up as he walked in the shadow of three man sized cages, made from cold iron, which hung suspended above the town’s gate. He shuddered, Thankfully they are empty, and picked up the pace toward the inn.
Ky racks his memory to try and discover what this creature might be...
INT:
9Not sure if this is how you want to do checks of this nature or not, but thought I would roll to keep things moving along!)
Felder lets out a sigh and takes his last few steps toward the place where they will, with any luck, find blessed rest. Or just rest. He'd settle for just sitting by a fireplace for a while with a warm mug or bowl of anything in hand.
The village of Velders is very much as you remember it, containing a small collection of single-story wooden houses occupied mainly by farmers and woodsmen. The inhabitants great you with curt nods as you pass them on the way to Naomi's place, but don't seem overly friendly. This is also how you remember them.
The Shady Dragon Inn is the only structure of note in town. A two-story structure, it sits in the shadows of several very old oak trees and looks to be in good repair. A large wooden sign hangs next to the door depicting a the curled form of a sleeping dragon.
A tall human woman (about 5'10") is currently sweeping the gravel in front of the inn with a broom made from saplings. From her solid and athletic build, you would guess that she is not a normal servant. This is confirmed by her confident stare as she evaluates you before waving in greeting.
"Greetings travelers," she states in an unmistakable Gulluvian accent. "Welcome to the Shady Dragon Inn. Looking for a room and a meal for the night?"
Felder clears his throat and says, "Ahh, hmm, I was expecting Naomi, actually. But yes, we do require lodging. Is Naomi still about? Some of us are familiar with her from prior visits."
The tall woman nods at Felder's question. "Yes, she is inside dealing with her oldest child. You are welcome to come in and put down your travel burdens. The beer is cold and the hearth is warm. What brings you to Velders? We don't get the travellers we once used to."
Realizing that he has no idea of how to proceed to save his friend and mentor, Kymil turns back to the town. As he moves away from the tree, he slowly reviews his memories...ah, there! She would know!.
He speeds up, flying through the shadowy twilight to the far side of town and a small hovel set back from the road. He gives a quick prayer to the elven gods as he sees smoke rising from the hole in the middle of the roof.
She is still alive. I was not sure as she seemed old when last I was here. The hedge witch Mora will know what to do...she knows these woods and the creatures within better than any human...and most elves!
He enters the little front garden of the hovel and calls out.
"Mora..it's me Kymil Dawynn. I need your help! There is some sort of blight on Drosera's tree and..."
He stops in mid-sentence as a young woman exits the cottage armed with a broom and a very cross expression.
"Your not Mora..."
"Of course I'm not Mora! Mora has lived here in over twenty years. Who are you and how do you know Mora?"
”Cold beer and a warm hearth sounds good. What do you have available to eat,” Dolion asked. He continues, ”As to our business, we’ve been away for a while and are supposed to meet an old friend here.”
The woman scratches her head at the question about the food. "I think there is a thick venison stew that is quite good, especialy with her rye rolls. Just ask Naomi, she'll help you."
At the mention of the friend, the woman's ears perk up. "Oh, someone here in Velders? Who are you looking for?"
Dolion’s stomach rumbled at the mention of Venison stew reminding him of his empty stomach. ”We’re looking for a less named Bernadette. She hails from Gulluvia.
The woman with the broom shakes her head. "We haven't had any visitors from Guilluvia for at least two week, and no one named Bernadette lives here in Velders."
"How curious," says Felder, stroking his goatee with one hand. "Well, be that as it may. I'll go in and haggle with Naomi over the price of accommodations."
Felder moves to enter the establishment, though he pauses and glances to the team as if to indicate that if someone wishes to stay and keep questioning this lady, he has no objections.
Osseus notes the woman's apparel and demeanor. It seems Naomi has hired some protection. I wonder whom, or what, she feels she needs protection against? Giving the woman an indifferent nod, he moves to follow Felder into the inn, preferring not to risk offending or raising her suspicions with more questions.
The common room of the Shady Room is just as you rememeber it, a fireplace to the right and the bar to the left with a number of tables between them. Access to the guest rooms on the second floor is via an exterior staircase at the front of the building. From the pitch and intensity of the conversation coming from the kitchen, you assume that the innkeeper Naomi is having a heated disagreement with her eldest daughter.
At this early hour of the evening, there are few patrons in the inn: two farmers talking at a single table, and a pair of decidedly non-local young men warming their feet by the fire.
Emmett wasn't a particularly large man standing about 5'10" in his socks, but he was thick like an oak stump, with shoulders nearly wide as a door frame, and moved with an air of near absolute confidence. It gave others the impression that he was larger than he actually was. Knuckles size was jokingly referred to as "Medium Large" by his old comrades.
And so he pointed to the brass keys strung from wooden pegs from one of shelves that numerous bottles sat on, casual and assured as if he was a regular patron who had visited just the other day.
I'll take my room key now then so I'm not tripping over my kit later in the evening then. Naomi should be done by the time I'm squared away and ready for my first ale.
Ky is devastated by the news the old hedge witch is no longer here.
"I ...I knew her a few years ago when I was staying in the area. What happened to her? Has she moved?"
A glimmer of hope wends its way into the elf's thoughts.
Sounds great....loving this so far!! Hope the others are OK with this 'side adventure'...
The thief makes straight for the fireplace and soaks up its warmth. His road weary muscles begin to relax and releases a small moan of pleasure, I haven’t been this warm in ages. He stands there a few moments more and turns toward the young men warming their feet, ”Any news of the road to Guilluvia?”
The two young men by the fire look up when Dolion approaches and nod a greetings. They look at each other for a moment as if needing to decide on something and finally the blond one nods to the dark haired one before turning to the wizard.
"Greetings, stranger. My name is Aiden and this here is Barnabas. Gulluvia is in quite a state right now. The Baroness is cracking down on everyone and she has patrols that criss-cross the land. They scoop you up for imaginary crimes and throw you in prison if they don't like the look of you, and then you have to either pay through the nose to get out or else you get force conscripted into her army."
"We were guarding a merchant caravan out of Gulluvia when we got ambushed by a tribe of aggressive gobbos in the Abaddon Woods. Started picking us off with their black-fletched arrows from blinds in the treetops. We couldn't see a thing. We fought until we were the last ones standing and then just took off into the woods. Luckily they were more interested in what our group was carrying. If they had hunted us down, we'd be goners as well."
Osseus perks up at Aiden’s story, and the priest sits at the table closest to the pair of sell-swords.
”A troubling turn of events, but we’re glad you made it out alive. Whose caravan was it? We can deliver the sad news to their kin when we make Gulluvia.”
The dark-haired young man perks up when he hears Osseus. "You are going to Gulluvia? We are looking to go as well if you will hire us. We could guard you."
DM: Sure no problem.
The elf waits for the woman to answer. He remembers the old witch and suddenly realizes that Mora is probably dead.
"Ah...time. I am sorry...I just did not think. I was thinking in the past and just assumed she would be here. I was hoping she was here...now what will I do..?"
Ky casts his sight back to the forest and the dryad's tree.
Naomi's daughter, a teenage girl with long, black ponytails, comes rushing out of the kitchen and leaves through the main door, slamming it behind her. A few moments later, Naomi herself emerges from the back shaking her head in frustration and holding several plates of food, which she deposits in front of the two men sitting by the fire.
As she is crossing back to the bar she spots Knuckles and waves to him, smiling warmly.
"Glad to see you again, Knuckles, it's been a while. I'm afraid your corner room is currently occupied, but you can have the one next to it. It's still over the kitchen and stays almost as warm at night as the one one in the corner. As for the rest of you, welcome to the Shady Dragon Inn. We've got a venison stew cooking and have fresh bread, fruit, and a few pies left. I brew the beer myself, and there's plenty of that as well. Let me know what I can get you."
The young woman, whose dark red red is piled high on her head held up by countless hair pins, lowers her broom and gives the elf a more thorough examination.
"Are you Kymil? Mora used to talk about you after a few drinks. She said she would get into the most absurd arguments with you on very esoteric topics, but also said you were a good friend."
She then takes a seat on a bench in front of her hut. A small tabby cat comes waltzing out of the door and rubs up her against her leg. She scratches it on its head for a few moments, then takes out a pipe and begins to fill it.
"Now what's that you say about the dryad?"
Ky takes a deep breath before answering the woman.
"My apologies. Yes, I am Kymil...and you are?"
He waits for the woman to answer before he moves on.
"Well met. The dryad I speak of lives in that great oak just outside the town.
He gestures to the distant tree looming dark and foreboding in the early twilight.
"The dryad Drosera lives there, but some sort of evil fungus has attached itself to her tree and she is not able to come out! Can you help us?"
The younger woman takes her time lighting her pipe and taking several long pulls from it before replying.
"I am Lorna. I was apprenticed to Mora, but she's been dead for about twenty years, as I've said. I took over from her as the "wise woman" for Velders, and the people there need as much wisdom as they can carry."
She looks out into the distance of the fey oak and then nods. "Yes, Drosera's oak. That's some bad business. There was some bad business several years back which I thought I had purged from the area, but it seems I did not wipe it out completely. That growth or creature or whatever you want to call it appeared several months ago. I've been trying to figure out what it is, but have come up short so far. Healing the tree and freeing Drosera may be beyond my skill."
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"Glad to see you again, Knuckles, it's been a while. I'm afraid your corner room is currently occupied, but you can have the one next to it. It's still over the kitchen and stays almost as warm at night as the one one in the corner. As for the rest of you, welcome to the Shady Dragon Inn. We've got a venison stew cooking and have fresh bread, fruit, and a few pies left. I brew the beer myself, and there's plenty of that as well. Let me know what I can get you."
Knuckles gives Naomi a snort and a smile.
You still remember eh?.
Experienced campaigner that he was, he was always on the look out for short cuts. Not a smart man, nor even a wise one but Emmett was smart enough to draw on the collected wisdom of sellswords and soldiers everywhere. One such nugget of common sense was picking a room above a forge or a kitchen once summers warmth had started to wane.
As for the corner room, it was where he'd spent nine or ten days a few winters back. He'd walked in on a pub in a shambles, with some poor excuses for caravan guards were giving Naomi hell. They'd also been trappped by the oncoming snow storm, and with nothing to do but drink? The situation quickly slid towards chaos, and the unruly men ever more confident in their bastardry.
That ended quickly once Naomi pulled a butchers knife on the worst of them. Emmett had had enough of the nonsense that was interfering with his drinking, and after a few short very brutal "talks" with the worst offenders, order was restored. He and Naomi came to an arrangement that had the merc become a temporary barman and bouncer in exchange for that corner room, food and drinks until the snow melt allowed the caravan to move on. Truth be told? Knuckles missed those days. He still harboured a notion of settling down to own his own place in the uncertain future ahead. The seventy odd gold coins in his purse was his first steps towards saving for such an opportunity.
What's the problem with "Squib"?, he asked, using Naomi's daughter's nickname. She's sprouted a fair bit. Lemme guess? "I'm sick of this nowhere town and can't wait to not slave away in this damn inn all day"?.
'Squib' was a nice enough (back then) for a kid but she did tend towards fiery outbursts. He spent a fair bit of time watching over her when he was helping out. He wasn't really a "children person" either but had made sure she was kept safe and away from the more unsavoury customers.
Naomi nods sadly. "Yes, every day something different. She can't wait to leave Velders, but where is she to go? Gulluvia is a mess and in the Principalities? I wouldn't send my worst enemy there on her own, let alone my young, impressionalble daughter. No, it's here in Velders she'll stay, unless you know someone who's looking for an apprentice or a wife?"
Felder leans a bit on his walking stick, then looks toward the fireplace to see if there are any empty seats. (At this time in the evening, probably not.) With a sigh he adjusts the straps on his back and then sidles up beside Knuckles with a quizzical look, though he has manners enough not to interrupt their conversation in progress. He does look comically small next to the huge, beefy warrior.