Mists over the Musarde, Chapter 8

[ewancummins]

Beginning with a summary of recent events, and leading to the current situation of our heroes...


Even with magical healing, Galandel and Jon are too badly hurt to travel very far on the day after your victory over the turnskins. Aidrha adds her herbal remedies to the magical healing of Benn and Dorgio, and soon the two are well enough to travel. During the period of rest, word quickly spreads of your brave deeds, and so you find an impromptu honor-guard of ax-wielding woodsmen waiting to escort you to the Bazaar-at-World’s-End.

Upon arriving in that strange camp-town at the misty border, you have little difficulty locating your friend, Ottokar, who has apparently been doing quite well in swapping goods on the open market. Ottokar and the most of other immigrants agree to follow you at least as far as Sithicus, and perhaps all the way to Pont-a-Museau, the fabled ‘city of great opportunities.’ Two of the single young men have met girls here in Farelle, and plan to remain in the area. Ottokar has organized his folk for travel, and even managed to acquire a couple of donkeys and some small carts to carry supplies for the trek to the ‘Elflands.’

The first leg of the trip passes without any great hardship. Jon has trouble sleeping for the first few nights and seems to be falling ill, but soon bounces back and insists he’s well enough to keep on travelling. One of the young children is nearly snatched by feral dogs, but the child’s mother rescues her with the aid of a big stick. Beyond that, the trip is uneventful. The weather is amenable to travel, warm and mostly dry, and the corduroy logging road remains passable for many miles.

Near the end of October, your band of footsore travelers leaves the narrow logging roads entirely and enters a very thick, deep patch of gnarled old oaks, weeping willows; and stunted, yellowing briars. Galandel leads the way, picking out a clear path through what at first looks like very difficult ground.

One the far side of the thicket, the character of the forest has changed. Here the trees are as tall as any you have seen yet, but they look unhealthy, most are heavily shingled with fungi or strangled with creeping, speckled ivy. Many of the forest giants lean so drunkenly that they appear likely to fall at any moment, to join the rotting hulks of their fallen neighbors. A carpet of moldering leaves covers the moist earth, piled as deep as two or three feet thick in many places, like slimy snowdrifts. Patches of tangled briars dominate the few sunny spots, and clusters of gray ferns and rings of spotted mushrooms grow scattered across the forest floor. Oddly enough, despite the obviously great and recent fall of leaves, the trees here all still carry full, leafy boughs, so that the canopy overhead blocks out most of the noonday sunlight, casting the woods into an early gloaming.

Galandel kneels and surveys the scene. He scratches Baelmus behind the ears and announces to the party-

‘’Home at last…we are in Sithicus, friends. I will take you all as far as the trail to Hroth, but then I must leave your company and seek my own people, who do not dwell in the town. From Hroth, I am sure you will be able to make your way to Har-Thelen, where you should have little difficulty in obtaining passage to your home, on one of the human-owned riverboats.’’

[Adam]

Benn pulls his handkerchief from a back pocket, wiping the little bit of perspiration from his brow. He looks around, trying to look entirely unimpressed. His thoughts flick back to the fairy tales he read in the libraries of Nufrechtenburg about elf lands and their verdant, vibrant forests.

This brown, malignant looking land was definitely not what he expected.

"Thank you for guiding us this far," he says. "We've been well served with you leading us."

[steveflam]

During the trip to Sithicus...

Franz will talk to Jon in private, as much as that can be done amongst traveling companions on the road.

One evening, while the others busy themselves with this or that chore, Franz approaches the lad and sits next to him. Munchen plops down near Jon, looking at the young man and offers a low yip as greeting. "Gut evenink. Herr Jon. I vas vundering if I could talk to you seriously, man to man about somethink I vould like to do viss you, if deiner idea is amenable to you.

As a soldier I haff much experience in battle. This next part do not take in de wrong vay, but you are sorely lacking in dis department, young Jon. I am right, ja? Don't be shy viss me, I haff seen a lot of tragedy in mein life and can accept most criticisms. Now, I vould like to teach you how to defend yourself in a fight, if you are villing to learn." The Falkovnian scratches absently at his bandana before continuing.

"I think we consider each other freunds, no? Good. I haff been viss you now for a few weeks and I am unsure, but feel dot you miss your friend Dwarf Norzak. Tell me about him I vould like to know what he is like, if you are willing."

Franz smiles at Jon and gets comfortable next to the young man.



Sithicus

<Sithican> "Galandel, you aren't staying with us? Why? If you fear the unknown, just look at me, freund. I have left everything I ever knew behind in my cursed homeland to be travel the lands and experience different cultures. Why do you now do the same as I?"

[ewancummins]

Galandel inclines his head slightly, as if to accept Benn's compliment.
He begins to answer Franz's question:

''I have to...''

The elf stops speaking in mid-sentence. He holds a finger to his lips.

You hear the sound of trees shaking, though there is no wind. From a vine-shrouded oak that stands nearby, a whole flock of crows suddenly cries out in alarm, taking flight in a storm of wings.

Silence returns in a few heartbeats.

''We should not tarry here. The border is watched. ''

[Brock Marsh Runoff]

Dorgio spends a good deal of the trip talking with the refugees, trying to learn more about them and their culture. What did they call their land? What did they call themselves? What kind of calendar did they use? What gods did they pray to? If he can find an opportune moment, he'll ask to learn more about the children buried outside Wolutha's castle, and about the Incabulos cult. He doesn't proseltyze to the refugees, but if they ask him about the Morninglord he gladly shares his philosophy over a bottle.


When Galandel announces his imminent departure, Dorgio says, "If you are ever growing tired of this and crave the stink of the city instead, be looking for us at Denys Sancerre's manor in Pont."

<i>But what has even happened to Sancerre?</i>, he thinks to himself. After so much time, who could say what had happened to the Sancerres? And Evie, poor Evie. Dorgio has still not thought of a good way to tell her about Cirdan. And what of Norzak? Perhaps he had already found his way back to Pont. Perhaps.

''We should not tarry here. The border is watched. ''

"Then let us be moving. But watched by whom?"

[ewancummins]

Galandel answers without turning to look back-

''The Tyrant has minions abroad, watchers in the woods. I cannot predict how they will react to a large body of armed intruders, so close to the border. It is best that we get you on the trail to Hroth, and quickly. There are Men dwelling in that town, and also half-breeds. They will help you obtain safe passage to Har-Thelen, I am certain of it.''

The elf continues to stride forward, damp and moldy leaves sloughing off his boots. He makes little noise as he wades through the decaying plant matter. Baelmus walks alongside Galandel, also moving quietly.

[Brock Marsh Runoff]

He nods, lights a cigarillo, and tries to keep pace with the elf. "Be forgiving me, but who exactly is this . . . Tyrant? I had once heard a story that you were ruled by some sort of paladin gone rogue. But that years ago and leagues away."

[Le Noir Faineant]

You all won't fail to see how much Dofur enjoys the journey, even with the current gruesome events.

Lighthearted as a halfling, the dwarf is marvelled by the rich world of the surface, and frequently asks Ben and Galandel questions in his strange dialect, eager to hear stories about the land, the people and the environment to the point of annoyance.




Dofur is visibly sad that Galandel leaves the party.

"Farest thee well, min frende. Micht Ezra bless thy nutsack and each of thy testicles, wherever thou goest."

[Brock Marsh Runoff]

The priest raises an eye at Dofur's odd blessing. "I am saying again, I really need to be trying your smoking herbs."

[ewancummins]

After several minutes more of walking without speaking, the elf says-

''The Black Rose, he is....take cover!''


Dropping to the ground, Galandel slithers into a mass of ferns.
Baelmus crawls on his belly, to hide inside the hollow of a fallen tree.

[steveflam]

Franz does the best he can to hide amongst the bushes and ferns, laying on his chest.

OOC: ewan, I doubt Franz can hide well but give him a roll at any rate I am jammin' tonjight!

[Adam]

Bennedict is likely the last to react to Galandel's challenge before turning off the side of the trail and diving behind a bush.

[Brock Marsh Runoff]

Dorgio stifles a curse and drops to a low crouch, then moves to take cover in the underbrush, preferably close to a tree for additional cover.

[VAN]

Karim passes his time talking with the others, they were his companions now and the fighter wants to know the ma little better. He is also interested in the nature and the life in Sithicus so spent some time with Galandel asking information about his homeland.

When he elf said that he will leave Karim doesn't hide his sorrow.

"You will be missed Galandel, you are a great companion and hope to see you again one day."

When Galandel tells them about the spies around Karim follows Dorgio's lead and drops to a low crouch and moves trying to get cover from bushes and trees.

[ewancummins]

Alain, Jon, and the others hide as they may.

From up ahead come noises; the rustling of bushes, muffled but heavy footfalls, soft sucking sounds, and the clink of metal-on-metal.
Those of you near the front of the group may, through a screen of drooping foliage, catch glimpses of something big in motion; heavy armor plating of alien aspect, and what might be a giant's dully-gleaming shield.