"But I doubt it. Anything nice here is probably more trouble than it's worth. Like a wild rosebush. Pretty, but not all that nice to touch."
"Except you can cut the thorns off a rosebush, with patience, precision, and persistence. So too shall we prune the Wild out of the Fey."
As the capitalist's fellows begin volunteering their services and unique talents, feeling pressured, he offers himself up also.
"Any difficulty present in the iron mines or foundries?"
Alexander looks slightly uncomfortable for a second. "Begging your pardon Ma'am, but technically speaking, I'm still in charge of this Fort. I've been instructed to help you as much as I can, and don't take this as pushback, just a reminder. I'll get all my men at the briefing, but we've all started seeing and hearing things. I think it's the water personally." Turning to Ranveer and Angus,
"Yes, he took his book with him. And I wouldn't say anything he did when he got back was of his own free will. Seemed dazed, dreamy. Like a concussion. An' I've got some notes on the missing men, you can have them. Feel free to look at his quarters if you want, no one really wants to live there anymore."
"Iron mines've been closed for a bit. It's not safe to bring in the workers until we get some more data. Maps... they're no good here. Not until we figure out some more of the rules of this place. I'll let you get settled. This way to your barracks."
Median sighed. Politics. But he was right. She had been demanding things that were probably beyond her reach.
I ask your pardon. It was not my intention to command you. Only to ask the people under my authority to remain within the walls for now, and to request information from you. I didn't realize that everyone was seeing and hearing things, and I completely understand if you can't have everyone at the meeting, or if you prefer to have it at a different time.
... as they thankfully got past that awkwardness and moved on she thought
No maps... how were they supposed to explore unexplored parts of the place if they couldn't figure out what had been explored? Ah, well, perhaps everyplace was unexplored then, which just made the job that much more impossible. Hooray. She wondered if they had antagonized the fey enough that the area was cursed... killing trees that could be living beings... ugh. What an utter disaster. She'd be surprised if the whole place wasn't trying to murder them right back. And everyone vying to profit from all of it. She wondered if that is what her former self would have been focused on as well.
The idea to search the barracks of the missing man was a good one, but she left it to the others. Arriving at the barracks, she quickly claimed an area and stowed her stuff, needing to lay down for just a moment. Wouldn't it be nice to wake up from a bad dream and find out that she wasn't in charge of all of this, and she could just do some research in peace?
Ranveer listens to Angus' take on the potential scenario of the missing scout and nods, offer a hand clasped bow;
"Ah Sahib, I had not considered this. When the mind or spirit is weakened, that is when evil gains a foothold. An important reminder indeed... Dhanavāda."
At Alexander's behest he hefts his kit and follows the man, keen to get unpacked.
"Now I have no wish to undercut your authority Madam Zeroux, but if the men have not been seen inside the fort, how would searching inside it be of much help. They are out there in the wilds. Now, I have no objection to searching their quarters, but if we wish to find them we must at least establish the beginnings of a trail outside of the wall."
I understand you are eager to help the missing men, Lionel, but you can search for them outside the walls in three hours after we have our planning meeting. It isn't as though they were lost just this moment and time is of the essence. We don't need to risk losing anyone else until we have a plan to move out together.
Lionel nods, "Understood. My enthusiasm to explore the wilds of the fey is a great factor in my presence here. Though I see the value in the personal information of the scouts, I want nothing more than to fling myself into those forests that the primeval would consider ancient beyond measure. My excitement gets ahead of me, it might seem."
"No offense taken, Sergeant Singh. Most of us here are men of science. We felt much the same as you. But what makes an iron will back home might just be someone's undoing here. Iron's too brittle you see, doesn't flex enough. So either your mind is tough enough to take the strangeness here, or it snaps." He shows everyone to a small building, with two large rooms for bunking. "Ladies on the left," Alexander says. "We've noticed bad things tend to happen to the buildings that ladies sleep on the right side in. They have a tendency to burn down. Dammed if I know why." He heads out, letting you get settled. The LTC, who was looking remarkably green up until now takes the opportunity to sit on his bed, and try and regain some semblance of composure. You have 3 hours before you have a meeting. What do you do?
The Most Honorable and Distinguished Gentleman Chantal Dupoint insists on accompanying anyone who goes to the missing scout's room.
It seems to be covered in a thin layer of dust, which has an almost opalescent sheen to it. If you ask, that's apparently just the color of dust here. Testing determines it to be in fact, normal dust.
The scout had a small shaving mirror. It seems to have had a blanket thrown over it. On the ground is a masterwork straight razor, and a masterwork pair of boots. Other assorted items are lying around, but nothing of particular interest, unless you find used clothing fascinating. The room gives off a general sense of unease, and unless a DC 10 will save is passed, you take half the penalties for being shaken while remaining inside it.
Margarette looks over the barracks with a small smile, then picks a bed and checks it thoroughly, before sitting down and pulling a canteen from her pack to drink.
”Hurry up, and wait. Glad to know the empire never changes, even when on an entirely separate planet. At least there is tea. I wonder if the locals will tell the truth or if we’re in for an entertaining evening of fairy tales and rumor? What do you think, ladies? Will they shoulder blame themselves, or will eldritch forces fey and weird beyond mortal ken be responsible for the stagnation?”
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"Definitely eldritch forces" Median says from the bed that she has claimed, and is currently resting in.
"Sorry. Probably could have gotten the meeting time moved up, but travelling exhausts me... or maybe leading does that. Either way, I wanted a chance to wind down first."
Sighing, she then addresses the central issue.
"... Also, honestly, are you saying you don't believe that there are eldritch forces? My impression is that they have walked in here and offended those very forces right and left, and that those forces are fighting back in their own way. ... And why else were we given power to negotiate? I mean, pointless power that the Queen may or may not honor, but still... why was it even mentioned, if they don't believe that there is actually some opposing power at work here?"
During her speech, Median remains resting on the bed with her arm thrown over her face, knowing Margarett won't mind if she doesn't seem alert and attentive. Plus, it was easier to face these theoretical issues without the distraction of sight.
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"I believe there are organized peoples here, but that they are wholly responsible for the failure to thrive of the local garrison? I doubt that. It's almost always someone who thinks they know best, without knowing much at all, ordering his men to cut down the trees and wondering why the druidic orders and the tree lovers hate him."
She rolls her eyes before following her friend's example.
"Honestly, I fully expect to be told the project is over budget, men are missing, large swaths of planned construction is not completed, and it is all the fault of the missing men who were led astray by forces unknown. It will be a pleasant surprise if any of the errors to date are bluntly stated, with remediation successfully underway. Remediation not being 'I told some privates to wander the camp with hatchets in case of trees.', to be clear. You know how the game is played by the middling managers at Got, and the army isn't any different in their games. Someone, somewhere, must be found to blame for failures, that promotions might continue to flow."
She shrugs elegantly.
"It's why I thought I'd been volunteered, honestly. Mar's make good sacrifices for the empire's excesses, and we tend to fix things before we get blamed." For a moment she sounds bitter, but then her tone turns wry. "I'm sorry you were voluntold instead and it's your reputation on the line, but I would be a liar and a poor friend if I didn't admit I was somewhat relieved. Maybe the director expects this to turn out better than my first impression. What do you think, Chantal?"
Lionel easily shakes off the lingering fear in the room as he looks around the room for anything of interest.
Ranveer also locates a cot of his liking within the barracks, and removes some personal effects from his pack.
He removes his munitions bandolier, armour and weaponry as well as his khaki tunic. As some of the others move to investigate the missing scout's accommodation, the Sikh soldier affords himself some time to mediate on divine matters and his quiet devotions pertinent to their situation;
"ਗਾੜਹੇ ਗੜਹਾਨ ਕੋ ਤੋੜਨਹਾਰ ਸ ਬਾਤਨ ਹੀਂ ਚਕ ਚਾਰ ਲਵੱਯਾ" (Gare garan ko toranhar su batan hin chak char lavayya)
"Strong forts may be seized and the whole world may be conquered merely by a single threat."
Cassius does not help investigate, staying inside the barracks with Ranveer and the LTC. "I bet y'all soldiers both got tales to tell of your exploits. I'd love to hear a soldier's thoughts on what our strategy should be movin forward. You think military power'll be enough to solve our problems?"
He lays down on his cot and lies back unconcerned, as if on vacation. "I think we c'n buy em off. Everyone wants somethin they don't have or needs somethin done that don't no one wants doin. What's that fer y'all, Officer Singh, leff-tenant kernel?"
The American winces after experimenting with pronouncing the F in lieutenant, deciding to not try it again.
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Chantal, who was on her way out to join the group checking out the empty barrack looks over at Margarett. Her expression, as usual is hard to place, but you get the feeling it's the same look she'd give to a particularly interesting beetle. "I'd prefer it if you did me the courtesy of using my title, Viscountess. I do not pretend to know the director's intentions, having only met the man a handful of times. My path and the Wardens path diverged years ago." Her tone is perfectly measured. "I would assume that the Director picked Lady Zeroux due to her seniority, and wide breadth of... knowledge." Smiling slightly, she leaves the room in a swirl of fabrics, leaving behind only a trace of a flowery perfume.
==
Angus, Lionel, and Chantal head over to check out the room. It's unsettling atmosphere isn't enough to deter them. The Most Honorable and Distinguished Gentleman Chantal Dupoint lifts the blanket on the mirror.
The masterwork razor appears to have been dropped, or more accurately based on the trajectory, thrown, embedded slightly in the ground. It has a silver handle.
Under the mattress, a few crude sketches can be found. One of them shows a grinning, well dressed man, with the smile going far beyond the edges of his face. The eyes are disconcertingly detailed compared to the rest of the picture. Another shows a tall woman, adorned with a crown of flowers, sitting on a throne. On the opposite side, a man in much the same situation. The art is too crude to make out any key details such as bone structure, expression, or clothing type. There is a drawing of a strange, long armed creature that looks rather reminiscent of a satyr, if it had the teeth of an eel. And finally, there is a map of England with rough flames drawn over it. This paper looks as if droplets of water had damaged the paper, perhaps tears?
As you continue to take apart this man's room, the sense of unease continues to grow. Chantal covers the mirror again with the blanket, and casts detect magic.
"Mon Dieu! The air itself is magic here! It will take me a minute or two to acclimate, tune out the background radiation. Bear with me gentlemen." She concentrates. "No, no residual magics here. That in itself is not so strange, residual fades quickly, and he has been gone for some time. What I find odd is that this oppressive atmosphere has no..." she trails off as she looks at the mirror under the blanket. "Hm. Divination."
==
Lieutenant Coronel Fitzgerald looks at Cash with his grey eyes. He seems to be recovered from the portal sickness "I am here to do a job Mr. Haigh. My superiors ordered me here, so here I am."
"Do I believe that military might alone can solve this issue? Of course it will be. Nothing can stand against the fully mobilized English army. It will just be a question of how much of our attention it will require and how long, as opposed to if."
"Mr. Haigh, why exactly did you leave London? This is not a mission for socialites, or those who want to ingratiate themselves to lesser nobility. It's incredibly dangerous, borderline suicidal. Very little glory in it either. So what brought you out here I wonder?"
==
Alexander is standing on a makeshift podium. A small crowd has gathered.
"First up, I'd like everyone to welcome our newest members to Fort Woodburn." There is a dull cheer, and a smattering of hellos.
"As you know, we've been stagnating recently. These fine folks are here to help us expand. With the valuable knowledge they bring back, we'll finally have the information we need to plan a way forward, to continue to expand for Queen and Country." He begins addressing you directly.
"Don't think we've just been sitting here either. We've got scientists and arcanists of our own. It's just that... well they aren't really able to do much in a fight." A few stereotypically educated looking people shuffle their feet abashedly.
"We use standard Wardens communication policy here. I'll go over it for the soldiers." He clears his throat.
"We have a few alchemists here, who have a portion of their daily extracts put aside for communications purposes. As you may know, an extract is imbued with a small bit of magical energy, and each alchemist can only sustain so many at a time. When they're consumed, a talented alchemist can identify the fact that they have regained the resources needed to create more." He hands you 4 potions of cure light wounds, and several labeled bottles.
"We've got a spreadsheet, so we can identify who's given who what. You've got a CLW potion labeled emergencies. If you drink that, we'll try and send some backup after you. Emphasis on try. Use it only as a last resort please. This polypurpose panacea labeled dead means that you are in a situation you do not expect to survive. If you drink that one, we will assume you have perished. And finally, this crafter's fortune extract will let us know you're on your way back."
He salutes you. "Any further questions or information we can help you with? I look forward to working with you all."
Back at the tent:
Margarett, that woman seems determined to hate you. Also, she clearly knows something is up with me. Two possibilities occur to me in that regard. One: She is the presumably evil person who tempted my original into creating me. Two: Could she and I have been, uh, in some sort of relationship that I do not remember? There was nothing like that in the journals, but it seems the only other explanation, and it would also explain the bitterness that I feel roiling from her at every turn. Or, perhaps three... both, although that downgrades any theoretical relationship to a very selfish level. Do you... know if I was seeing someone? Obviously if it were a woman I would have kept it to myself, but surely as a good friend you may have seen the signs.
I hate to assume that she is evil, but she isn't playing this game like she is testing me. She's playing like she is trying to tell us that she knows.
She also runs through some of the things she wants to say at the meeting (including the mapping information) to make sure she won't embarrass or reveal herself with what she says.
_____
Later, at the "meeting":
Median is displeased that what she asked for and this very-public morale-boosting speech are not at all similar. She attempts to hide her annoyance however, trying to back Alexander up with the message of hope for his own people while not being rude about what they had already asked for.
She settles for
"Thank you. We are glad to be here, and look forward to making some progress in this area."
Then, turning to Alexander, she asks
Where can we meet?
Assuming they have a private area to meet, Median addresses the mapping problem.
"So, in your speech, you mentioned sending backup if we were in trouble. Are your alchemists able to pinpoint the direction that one of their extracts is in? You mentioned that maps were "no good here" ... so how have your scouts been getting around, and what kinds of notes do you have about the missing men with regard to where to look? Is there a process that works, like certain landmarks that you might see, even if they used to be in what seems like a different direction? How have your scouts found their way home?"
One of our directives is to explore the unexplored areas of the feywild and provide an intelligence report. Do we need to just consider anything outside the walls unexplored?
Cash quietly smiles as the LTC lies. "A very professional answer, sir. I commend you for so thoroughly settin aside wants and desires in the name of Empire."
He sits up for the officer's reply, fumbling in a bag for his journal.
He does not find it before Fitzgerald starts levying accusations of Cash as simply a member of the idle rich. This takes him aback but also leaves him chortling.
"Clearly, you have not heard of me, LTC. I have spent a lot of money, my money, helping fund excursions into this realm and have seen scarce profit. I believe in this mission, so I have continued despite the loss. That being said, a man has the right to check on his investments. That I feel constitutes reason enough, even if 'twere the whole reason, which it ain't.
"Similar to you, sir, I was invited, ordered by my superiors. There's more I c'n tell you on the matter of my being here if'n ya has the interest, but I'd appreciate an equal and further look into your reasons in exchange."
He stands, pulling out a gleaming revolver with a pearl handle and loading it with six bullets. "And if'n ya doubt my combat skills, rest assured, I am quite capable. Pugilism is a passion of mine, and always has been. Thank God I'm finally livin where it's legal.
"I also fancy myself rather the skilled marksman, or shootist as they call it out West. I'd love to give ya a demonstration, take some target practice together. What would you say to me gettin my man and him throwing plates fer us to shoot?."
After the LTC accepts or denies the offer, Cash turns it over to Ranveer as well. "You look mighty capable with that rifle in yer hands, and I'd love to see what you can do with it."
----
"Is there an existing dossier on the elves and fey y'all've encountered? I'd love to study up on our neighbors, esspecially ones more frequently seen and interacted with."
Lionel listens to the speech, nodding to the crowd when Woodburn mentions the new arrivals. He never enjoyed crowds.
He livens up a bit at the meeting after, though he stays mostly quiet. Rather, he tries to remember anything he's read about the denizens of the Fey Realm, whether contemporary or historical.
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”Median, if she hates me it is only because she cannot be me no matter her accomplishments. I can respect that, the empire can be cruel. It’s fine, I offered her a chance to behave informally, she declined, and so now she gets to be a talented but common servant for the rest of our time here until she shows signs of thawing. It’s simpler, if not what I prefer.”. She sighs and sits up.
“At least we now no longer need inquire of her opinion than Cash would of his manservant’s outside their respective areas of expertise. Truly, a shame that her arcane insight is so easily done without. If she decides to level accusations or spread rumors we simply hold to the truth, you are under orders of the office of the wardens. Hopefully, some time here will have her mellow, but we can do without if not.”
She looks over at her friend a moment and shrugs.
”Still, she’s right to stay moving. We should be about our business. If nothing else it will let them tell us delightful lies. I must admit, the idea of you and poor ms dupoint being involved previously will at least make it easier to hold my smile for this performance. Oh don’t scowl. It is much more likely to have gone in the opposite direction than you worry. She would have been corrupted by you, if anything, not the other way around. Just imagine her on her knees begging for your academic insights. If it troubles you, she wouldn’t have been the first or the last, and you likely told her no. You wouldn’t even help me with history of alchemy, and we’ve been friends forever.”
She heads toward the door.
”You have this, just keep breathing.
At the meeting, Margarett takes extensive notes, and asks for an accounting of individuals within the walls, events, and supplies. She assembles a ledger, timeline, and dossiers accordingly. Looking over it at the end she remarks.
”This isn’t going to be a short visit. I think we’ll want to focus on establishing the logistics to support ourselves here. Right now we are dependent on the door, and entirely ignorant of what lies beyond sight of the walls, not to mention these sapling incursions. Pavement, plowed fields, and a secondary set of signal towers and walls all seem reasonable goals for the settlement, but that will mean quarrying and tilling and other such resourceful occupations and we do not know how or where to do such things. We will need to survey, in force, and hopefully among these less militant members of the community their will be the knowledge to build what must be built here. The ledger is a start. Thank you, sirs, for your diligence in assembling it.”
Ranveer listens to the interplay, then nods graciously at Cash's question;
"Indeed Sahib, as a trained soldier I am well versed in the use of firearms. Although the breech loading rifle is a newer innovation to me. Up until recently we soldiers of the British Indian Army still shot muskets, but yes I am a decent shot."
He smiles broadly, before continuing;
"However as a true Sikh warrior, I am also well-versed in honourable ways of hand to hand combat. Blades, shield, chakram... but Sahib Cash, it is the courage of my people that is the true weapon."
”We should have ample time in camp to look over things, and less distractions as well. Thank you again for your excellent notes. Shall we make a start of our reconnaissance now or in the morning?”
Margaret rides a summoned Mount casually, discussing with her companions as they move through the wilderness. ”The only concern is the door. It will be a challenge getting enough trustworthy bodies to man the fields, and figuring out how to transport product back without clogging the portal. Still, those difficulties are manageable, and just look at all this open space. So much room for growth here. Now I wonder what that is?” she points her pony at another new plant.
Chantal does not volunteer any information about the mirror.
"I cannot say Mr. Elphinstone. I have not been searching the camp for magic. I had assumed it would be more magical, but this? This is almost overwhelming. A novice would be overwhelmed by all the background noise. Imagine if you will, spending all day staring at a Wothlytype photograph, and then suddenly looking at one of that Monet fellow's new paintings... no I don't suppose those would be public yet." She trails off. "The divination on the other hand. Someone or more likely something has been using this mirror to sense something about this room. I'm sorry I can't be more specific, but the effect is not currently active, merely idling like... a horse waiting for it's master to return." She nods at that explanation, and re-covers the mirror. "If I had to speculate, which you do seem to be demanding of me, I would say it was probably an ambient effect of the magical energy of the divination. That or this room is directly above something important, or below it, or two ley lines cross here. There are plenty of reasons for an uncomfortable feeling to manifest in a room, no monsieur?" She looks at you with her almost oceanic blue eyes, a small smile playing around her lips. "I'm sure you know of what I speak. Perhaps you felt similarly in... India?"
Addressing Median, Alexander looks a bit sheepish. [b]"No ma'am, they don't really have a way of knowing where you are. Just that the potions have been used. Much more useful when we were working out of London, and Ratcliff knew where to send his men to back us up. Best we can do is listen to your plans about where you're headed to, and send some folks in that direction. Which brings me to your next uncomfortable question. Maps. We got 'em, but they... aren't great. Even when there aren't big changes in the land, there are always little ones. We chart a course, and we never quite hit the same landmarks, even assuming they are there." He brightens a little bit.
"We've had some recent luck though! A patch'a land outside the wall we portioned off with fey iron and salt, and so far it hasn't changed at all, even when the land around it changes." He slumps a little bit again. "Still can't ever use it as a good landmark though. The pacing's never quite right."
He passes you a dossier, labelled Missing "Didn't want to give you this at the public meeting. Folks around here been a bit glum recently, didn't want to remind them of the missing."
"Mr. Cash was it? I do indeed have a booklet of the information we're allowed to give out about the fey we've run into. Apparently, one of 'em had a little chat with the Queen, God be with her, and that's been classified even to us. Musta been might important, but you can have all the files I have. Made a copy of 'em and everything. I just ask that if you think you're gonna be captured by the fey you destroy them. Best to keep it bit secret what we do and don't know about them."
"Most of the men we've sent Northward by the way the sun rises have come back unscathed. West's been less lucky. I figure you probably want to get your bearings from the North, eh?" He shakes Median's hand. "Lemme know if there's anything else I can do for you ma'am." He's quite obviously not bothered by her sex and position of authority, his smile is genuine. "I just ask you tell me when, what direction, and how long you think you'll be gone. When d'you think you'll be headin' out?"
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So far, the Wardens have been approached by no less than 4 elves. The first introduced himself as Celinin, saying that he had grown tired of that name and that he was fine if the English took it. He had an archaic manner of speaking, but learned quite quickly. His title was apparently dragonslayer. From him, we learned much. Apparently fey can not lie, although members of the unit that we stationed him within reported that they do seem capable of lies of omission. He was a mighty warrior, and skilled tracker, although he reported that he was far mightier and more skillful back home. This aligns with information gained later in this document. He was happy to teach and assist in many things, including several mundane activities that he found fascinating, such as sweeping, and many fascinating activities that he found mundane, such as assisting with the creation of magical items. Due to his assistance rendered in the thwarting of the Gammorites (AKA the False Church), he was granted an audience with the Queen. Following the audience, he was granted citizenship, and allowed to return to the fey. We have not been in contact with him following his departure. The nature of his business here claimed to be sport and entertainment, although that can be widely interpreted as an almost-lie.
The second elf that came into Warden custody was very strange. Apparently, they desired to experience what it would be like to be in human custody. After appearing in the London branch of the Wardens, they requested they be put in a cell, and treated as a prisoner, and that no matter what they said afterwards, were they to be released before, "The moon and the sun kiss, and the lands are cast into darkness," which was interpreted to be a solar eclipse. For the first few days he gladly answered questions, although he seemed avoidant to anything with too many specifics, or making any concrete statements that couldn't be interpreted in several ways, often mutually exclusive. Of particular note is that he refused to give us a name, but seemed to instinctively recognize any term that was used to refer to him. After the first month passed, he became listless, and began to beg to be released, saying that he had made a terrible mistake and that he was dying. Per the elf's previous request, release was declined. This was both in an interest to see what would occur following, and as a precautionary device, as to avoid breaking any promises made with the fey, as they appear to take those very seriously. We observed the elf trying repeatedly to walk into the door, apparently trying to move through it, to no success. They occasionally attempted to conjure magics, although they seemed dissatisfied with the result. After two months, the elf had stopped responding, although he continued to breathe and eat, and on the 6th month to the day that he had entered the cell, he was discovered to have disappeared. Due to the rapid decrease in weight resulting in an abnormally light state, and the reports of tricks of the light making the elf appear transparent, it is assumed that he perished in some way, perhaps from lack of exposure to some sort of nutrient from the fey.
The third and fourth elf we met was in the feywild itself. They arrived at the same time, a male and female. They requested access to our fort, but we refused to grant it. We asked for their names, but they refused to give them. When questioned about their desire to enter, they responded that they half remembered that when they used to be in England, they remembered halfbreeds, and wished to test if they could still mate with humans as they used to. After discussion, we declined their invitation. Of note here is that those who had spoken with both Celinin and these pair determined that Celinin despite his eccentricities, had a much firmer grasp on human etiquette, especially after being told. That evening, a man and a woman both reported having vividly realistic dreams of a carnal nature with said elven individuals. This was approximately [dated about one month ago]. Interestingly, the female staff member was the only who had expressed an interest in attempting the experiment. It is unknown whether the male staff had any interest, but presumed. The female staff member reported that she had missed her period cycle, and reported back to the Wardens headquarters in London for monitoring.
All of this had been transcribed in the same hand. However a loose sheet of paper in a completely different style that is dated for two days from now had been tucked into the center of the dossier. It only says this on it, "Met Puck" There are a few drops of a reddish liquid on the page as well.
Cash whistles as he goes thru the documents without further comment. The document from the future dripping with blood or rust does make him chuckle. "Y'all seen this one? Looks like we've a date!"
He tries to scrape the red off with a glass finger, seeing if it'll catch beneath what serves as his fingernail. "And it looks like it goes well."
From nearby Angus, Ranveer takes in the dossier and eyes the images presented;
"These fey are most peculiar Sahib. Fair or foul that is the question."
Prompted by the images the Havildar poses a question to Alexander;
"Sahib Alexander. Perhaps you can tell us more of the fey in battle. It would be good to know how they fight."
Median listens to Alexander and thanks him for the documents and information, not pleased that they are still stuck without a direction, but relieved that Alexander is being open with them.
Median takes the documents from Angus
"Wow, Angus, this is good stuff, thank you... and okay, I'll go and check out the mirror straightaway."
Median takes the "Puck" document back from Cassius, folding it carefully and putting it in her inner vest pocket where it wouldn't be crushed.
"We do indeed have a date, so let's be on the lookout, but also let's be careful of that. If it is blood, it could be very valuable to us...."
"... not in a monetary way," she adds, remembering who she was talking to.
Really, she had no idea of the particulars, but she had read enough of her own research to know that blood could be used for all sorts of magical things.
She leaves the other documents (including the ones from Angus) for the group to examine as she excuses herself to go look at the mirror.
Think about when you want to do our first excursion and what you want to accomplish. I think we should stick to daylight hours until we figure out an acceptable navigation method, but I am open to anyone's ideas about what direction to go and what to attempt first. I'll be back shortly.
She leaves, headed over to see the mirror that Angus mentioned. If anyone follows her, then she pulls out her spellbook and goes through the motions of pretending to cast from it, and if she is alone, she doesn't bother, but either way, she casts detect magic and concentrates to see if she can tell the exact enchantment on the mirror.
As Median heads off to inspect the mirror Margerette calls to her.
"Just bring it along, we'll need to sortie in any event."
She then turns back to her companions, and pulls a piece of paper from her bag and starts sketching.
"LTC, you seem familiar with the military procedure, would you feel comfortable leading a squad in reserve in a quartering maneuver through the area around the FOB to test this method while we sortie?"
She waits a moment, but the LTC is wordless and simply nods, so she continues.
"With the observation that land can be exempted from the obscurement with some of the traditional methods, I think if you were to have your squad cut a path with a plow, filling it in with Salt, and put up a set of fences on either side with baling iron it might be possible to eventually stabilize concentric circles about this hill, and perhaps even reach that bit of the river there. That would then let the river secure our eastern flank. We might need to replace such barriers in the future, but this is a simple test. If it turns out successful we can always send for masons and ironworkers and lay a more forceful wall. If the gentleman is agreeable, they could start from the south and curve to carve an attached field from the burn to the river such that we might establish some form of local agricultural experimental zone if the process of plow and fence results favorably."
She grins a moment then continues.
"Of course, we might not be able to guarantee the land stays stable, or any produce is edible, but surely we can begin by this ordinary method to impose some mundane order in this area. If nothing else, the fence we lay will serve as our own paths to follow, and fields are easy enough to convert to other tasks."
She turns to Alexander as another private runs by with an axe speaking slightly louder as the private sets his legs and looks down at the ground.
"I'm sure you have some likely folk in need of an afternoon's entertainment that the LTC and Gentleman could offer instruction to?"
At his nod she continues, while behind him the private begins hacking away at the quicksprouting sapling.
"If nothing else, you'll at least be able to hear yourself think if this proves successful in keeping the trees out." she adds wryly.
"As for the rest of us, once Median returns I propose we set out to the North with the intent that we will be gone three weeks from our departure. We should press during the first week, then take stock for two days, and then turn back. If we run into this Puck fellow of the amusing divinations, let it be far from here and in an unexpected direction, one with less friendly fire considerations. If we have difficulties on the way back, well that's why we have weapons training."
Margarette looks into the sky and shrugs as she judges the time.
"Half a minute to noon and it might as well be half a minute to midnight, if what you said of the time slip was true. At least we have watches. We shall have to take meticulous notes." She sounds disgusted with the capricious nature of time in this place. With a sigh she pulls her watch from her sleeve and examines it, then notates her sketch of the local environs and her proposed adjustments and route, before duplicating it for each person present.
"Sometimes it is more important to be doing than discussing. This feels like one of those times. If you disagree, please do so quickly. If we are agreed, let us set about it, each to each and a goal to reach."
Lionel grins at the prospect of finally settling out. Before now he’s been cordial, but his voice is something resembling giddy as he says, ”I am far beyond ready to embark into the wilds. I must warn you all who have not dealt with the more magical side of the wilderness before, there are times when you frankly cannot force it to play by your rules. I am aware that our mission is to make this place civilized, but I would think that whatever rules it does play by, if they exist at all, are so unlike what you expect as to be maddening. There are times though, that when mired in the mind-numbing wildness of the wilderness that one must lean into it. All that is to say, that I cannot promise genteel manners or civilized virtues from myself. One must think like the hunter to become the hunter, and the hunters here may be unlike any others.”
"I hope you don't think you'll be getting rid of the Lieutenant and myself that easily did you?" Chantal says, accompanied by a now all too familiar small smirk. "No, I'm afraid the two of us will be accompanying you."
==
A little bit of blood will come off under Cash's fingernail.
==
"I'm sorry Sergeant Ranveer, I never met Celinin, and he's the only pointy ear we've actually seen fighting. Word is though that he fought Florentine. Apparently he could see magics like a mage without needing to concentrate."
Median's detect magic:
First make the DC 10 will save or be lesser shaken
Round 1: There is the presence of magic
Round 2: There are 2 auras, the strongest is moderate
Round 3: Knowledge arcana + spellcraft checks, 1 for each aura.
Doot
When Median first entered the area with the mirror, she could tell what Angus had been talking about. The area did feel very strange.
It wasn't anything that could interfere with her focus though, so she sat down in front of the mirror, making sure to get the spellbook out and to go through the motions of casting from it, and then she concentrated, trying to glean everything she could.
She could tell there were two distinct auras, so she started with the stronger one and focused, trying to get a clearer picture of what this part of the magic was designed to do.
After taking the measure of the stronger aura, she changed her focus to the fainter aura, trying to figure out what that one did, and how the two interacted.
Ranveer acknowledges Alexander's words with a head bow;
"Thank you Sahib. Is this Florentine present in the camp? It would be useful to speak with them."
At Angus' comment he smiles wistfully;
"Indeed Sahibs. While we Sikh's did practice hunting in our past, it was to hone the skills of warfare. We should ware provoking a tiger for mere glory. "
The stronger aura comes from the mirror. It is a divination effect. It appears too powerful to identify at this moment. Of particular note is that the enchantment on the mirror does not seem to be currently active.
The second aura is located everywhere within the 60ft cone, and everywhere you might look. It is in the universal school of magic, with some slight hints of transmutation. It also is not currently identifiable with your current knowledge.
Cash approaches Alexander quietly for some less important questions.
"When we arrived you said y'all'd lost an hour fifteen, but have you ever gained time? Have the hands on your watch ever spun backward? And Mr. Alexander? Have you ever been out beyond the walls?"
Median took the extra waterproof bag she always carried in case of water hazards and placed the mirror carefully inside. Wrapping the rest of the bag around it, she then slid it into her pack between her two blankets, so it wouldn't get broken. She'd need to study it later, but divination and it being inactive were at least some clues. She'd have to consult some of her journals... maybe they would go over the possibilities more, but divination definitely sounded like it needed to be kept in a sack for now.
Then she went back to the meeting without comment. All these people with egos the size of houses, not wanting to be "left out" of anything. It was exhausting.
When she got back she looked at Margarett and said
[b]"Did I miss anything? Are we ready to head out, or is there more to cover?"[b]
This item was probably moved to it's current location in a trunk, instead of a backpack. While it will fit, it is somewhat bulky, and will have an increased risk of being damaged.
The Most Honorable and Distinguished Gentleman Chantal Dupoint nods at Median when she returns. "I am able to depart at your convenience Ms. Zeroux.
Median tells Margarett about the two different auras, one on the mirror and one literally everywhere.
"... I mean, I think it is this whole place. We're breathing it in, every moment. I'll have to look more closely though. As for the mirror, she points to the new lump in her pack. I'll show you when we stop to take readings later."
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As you exit the threshold of the rough fort, your compass's spin about aimlessly for a second, before re-calibrating. A strangeness to be sure, but there are bound to be countless more oddities in your travels to come.
Chantal is dressed sensibly, eschewing flowing dresses and veils for trousers, and a wide brimmed circular hat. Around her neck is a chain that leads to an amulet engraved with various mystical symbols. LTC Fitzgerald is in his military attire. He has a large machete on one hip, and a pistol on the other.
The air itself here seems to be energizing, making any who breathe it want to exert themselves physically, and granting an almost preternatural heightening of the senses. Those who frequent coffeehouses back in England would liken the experience to drinking too many cups of coffee.
The trees are closely packed, but not too difficult to traverse. They seem to be in the height of their foliage. Interestingly, there is no leaf-litter on the ground, or evidence of any of the plants here ever having experienced illness or winter. Bird song can be heard, but no birds can be found. Attempts to triangulate on them will reveal that the sound seems to emanate from the leaves of the trees themselves. No other living things can be seen, excepting the plants.
How much time passes as you head North? It is hard to say, the sun doesn't move in the sky. Those of you who have traveled far North in the past have seen the endless sun Iceland's summer months before, but even then it moved slightly in the heavens, rotating around a slight point. This sun remains stationary. After about 3 hours you see an impossibility in the far distance; the sky is black. More than that, you can clearly see the stars and a crescent moon in it, although no constellations are recognizable. Likewise, you see something else of interest, a tiny, winged male figure that can only be described as a pixie, sprawled out on the branch of a tree some 30ft away, fast asleep.
The moment Lionel steps out and breathes the air he smiles. He insists on taking the front of the line so he can make sure that their path is clear and privately, so he can see the Feyrealm in all it's wild beauty without having to peer past anyone.
"Oh yes. This is it. This is where I'm meant to be."
As they see the pixie, Lionel says quietly, "There's one of the natives up ahead. I can try to speak with it unless anyone else desires to more strongly."
Pleased that someone was thinking about communication rather than conquest, Median responds
Go right ahead Lionel. If it doesn't speak our language, try to keep it talking. If I can get enough of a sample, my traveler's translator will kick in, and I'll be able to understand.
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Margarette smiles and nods.
"I think that's a fine idea. Good to see you in your element here."
She glances over at the constellations and her smile widens.
"Ah, how convenient it must be to study the sky like it is a painting, with no concern about the light from our observation. It certainly puts some of the old theories of the cosmos into a different perspective. I wonder if that implies a twisting of space, much like the portal, that must therefor circle the world upon which we rest? Was our own humble Earth thus once?"
The American does not dress for wilderness expedition the way one would expect. No loose and flowing garment, no pith helmet or pick. He doffs his suit but still wears a shirt and waistcoat, the crisp and starched top again tailored to reveal his glass arm. His trousers, too, are of a fine cut, neatly pressed and a warm grey. The most practical part of his outfit are the boots he wears, except that around those, he wears spats! And not a sensible cover to keep water or bugs out of his boot either, but little exact and white things, pressed and ironed like the rest of him.
When the road narrows, Cassius keeps a tight and ready hand on his pistol, expecting ambush. As the party stretches out one by one, he keeps to the back, not out of cowardice but knowing others know better where they are going.
He restrains from out and out volunteering himself to negotiate and interrogate the pixie when sighted, wanting quite badly to observe from a distance, the fairy and Lionel both.