In The Woods

[Jester of the FoS]

It was raining lightly as he entered the small taphouse set on the town's square. Despite its well-travelled firmness, the dirt road was beginning to metamorphose from hard packed grit into sticky mud. A traveller entered, a faint smile gracing his mouth as he felt the warmth spreading from small fireplace. He shook off his cloak, beads of water misted off in a light spray against the heavy logs walls.

Faces turned to looked at him. They were typical of Valachans: dark skin the colour of stained wood and straight black hair framing their clean-shaven faces. All eyes were on him, the pale whites standing out against the dusky skin. He pulled off his cloak; the thick cloth was heavy with precipitation, thin trails of water left winding streams behind him as he moved across the room to a row of pegs set into the wall. After handing up his garment he moved to the nearest vacant table and sat down. He let his heavy backpack drop, the oiled leather was damp but the contents were protected and dry.

The server moved forward and placed a ceramic goblet on the table beside a clay jug of dark red wine. The traveller tossed down a few coins and nodded in thanks. He poured himself a drink and disdainfully sniffed the crimson beverage. Another patron moved across the room and joined the traveller at the table.

"Brother Lochspeare?" the newcomer asked. He spoke only loud enough to be heard across the table but not by the half-dozen other drinkers at the waystop.

The traveller hesitantly sipped his drink and grimaces. His eyes never moved from the cup. "Yes." he replied calmly.

"Do you have it?" the newcomer asked anxiously, sitting down onto a rough wooden stool. "The rest are curious of your progress."

Lochspeare raised an eyebrow. "Why the urgency?" He asked still looking at his drink, weighing the pros and cons of another sip. "What has happened in my absence?"
The newcomer squirmed slightly, his eyes seeking escape.

Lochspeare's gaze slowly rose and he set down his goblet. "Brother Pellion." he spoke firmly. It was a command.

Pellion shivered. "The Fraternity was betrayed. There was a fire. The manor... it is gone."
Lochspeare's eyes went wide and his straightened abruptly in his chair. "Our Brothers? The Library?"

"Fled. And much of the collection burned, but some was rescued -thank heavens for the wards- but a few volumes are still missing."

Eyes avoided each other as the pair drifted off into private thoughts. Lochspeare glanced down at his pack and its precious contents, now possibly more so. "I see." he said eventually.

Pellion rubbed his hands together as Lochspeare picked up the cup and took a long drink. "I..." Pellion began nervously, "the Brothers thought I should come, tell you in person. We do not want word of this to spread too much."

Lochspeare barked a laugh, eyes turned on the pair. "Yes," he muttered sarcastically, "a bonfire atop a hill is the most subtle of things in Richemulot."

"But our enemies need not know it an attack and not done on purpose." Pellion protested. "It was the decision of our Esteemed Brothers that you be told in person, so no message could be intercepted. I am sorry it took so long to reach you, we though you had vanished into the Mists."

"No," Lochspeare said with a touch of irony, "only into Sithicus. It is much the same. My report on the Fey is complete." His eyes gestured to a large bulge in his backpack.

"And on the gnomes and halfbreeds?"

"The gnomefolk will have to wait until I have finished moving through Valachan and have seen all of their ways. I know much of the mongrel-races but my notes are incomplete. Do my Brothers wish me to continue?"

"That decision has been left to you." Pellion stated his confidence returned as he slipped into the comfort his prepared speech. "The rest of our Brothers have scattered but are preparing to reunite at the alternate lair. They have alternate plans for new research but you are free to choose. Continue or return. "

Lochspeare nodded and his head drooped down. He looked at the reflection of himself in the wine, discoloured to a deep purple. He rotated the cup around letting the wine cling to the sides and slowly drip down in thing legs. "Return… to civilization. And a good meal for a change…" He weighed the options in his head.

Pellion sat silently across from him, toying with the silver ring adorning one finger.

"Yes." Lochspeare said after a time. "I believe I have spent enough time wandering this past year. It is time for me to return. My research to date will have to suffice." In a mock toast he raised his glass and then drained it in a single swallow, then winced at the taste.