With the snows breaking and conditions improving day by day, and with Greengrass but a fortnight away, our minds and our
planning turns to the road ahead, and the pending meeting with Odesia and her
husband Laerch. One pending decision revolves around Zargon, and whether he intends to break his compact with
Perhegan and accompany us on our journey.
In order give him better context to make that decision,
we recount our initial encounter with Kezia in Shadfeld, our encounter with the
witch’s great granddaughter who bore the same name, and the subsequent events
that led to her death. We explain our
meeting with Odesia, the pact made to win her assistance in navigating the
Khedrun Valley, and what I hope to find there.
Zargon explains the details of his deal with Perhegan, as
well as a potential issue with returning to Mirabar. Zargon got into trouble gambling and in order
to avoid being sold into servitude in the undercity of Mirabar, Perhegan bought
out Zargon’s debt in exchange for a year of service at Dagger’s Deep. “How deep into debt were you?” inquires
Audric. We learn that he could owe as
much as 100 gold pieces and begin to discuss how we will confront Perhegan with
potential solutions to the problem.
When we meet with Perhegan with the
question, he replies solemnly, “A set of able hands can be worth more than gold.” Before we can fear, though, Perhegan
continues. “But if Zargon wishes to
leave, can I truly stop him? I won’t
hold a man against his will after his debt has been paid. If it suits everyone to come to a
financial arrangement, I’ll consent for him to depart.” He offers to close the deal for 75 gold
pieces. We agree, and
Perhegan says that he holds no ill will against us, and that he expected such a
thing to come to pass.
Perhegan tells us of his plans to take a wagon into
Mirabar and says that our departure is a convenient opportunity to attempt such
a trip with ample protection. We agree,
settle all our debts, and return to our tents to prepare.
Having spent longer at Dagger’s Deep than we have
anywhere for quite some time, we are sad to depart, but excited for the road
ahead. The road ahead, as it turns out,
is rough and muddy, and travel proves slow and laborious. Several times we must force the wagon back
onto the path when the wheels smash through soft, muddy ruts, though make the
main road at the end of the first day, in the vicinity of Minstrel’s
Glade. The night passes uneventfully,
with no signs of Anaithnid, wyverns, soldiers, or bugbears: a welcome
relief.
We reach Mirabar the night before Greengrass, having
passed several travelers along the road. We decide to pass the night outside the
gates, and in the morning attempt to enter the city. At the city gates, we encounter a welcome
sight—Laerch waves at us from just outside. We bid Perhegan a final farewell amid many
thanks, and he welcomes us back to Dagger’s Deep any time. We thank him in return, and usher him towards
the gates, heading forward to meet Laerch.
Laerch lets us know that preparations have been made for
our journey, and as we walk through the city we encounter the sounds and
smells and general crush of the Greengrass festival, with merchants hawking
foods, music playing, and townsfolk milling about. The walled fortress of Mirabar makes for a strange setting for a celebration of the spring, but the city seems alive with activity.
Along the way, a man with a huge bundle of white flowers walks towards us, handing one to Bonie and tying it into her hair
before moving on to the next maiden. I
watch as she walks through the city streets, and grow concerned as her gait
grows heavy, noting the telltale crease of her brow that signifies
distress. She clings to my arm, and I
sense that she’s overcome with emotion, coming to grips that we’re in her home city 100 years in the past, as if all the events since Malchor’s tower have suddenly
caught up with her, and threaten to overwhelm.
I do what I can to be supportive, not having any words that can relieve
her sudden shock.
Laerch leads us through the streets, and Bonie remains
quiet, not indicating any desire to traverse a different route. When asked if we have any business in the
city, we respond that we don’t, and we’re led further into a
section with several piers, from which extend numerous docks. At one such dock, we meet Odesia, though it takes
us a moment to realize it. She’s dressed
in her traditional Keravelan garb, but we notice that she wears a heavy
shawl to conceal the fact that she’s very much pregnant. She smiles and greets us, and we’re
introduced to a man, Daegahr, who will be accompanying us on
the trip.
Laerch explains that he and Daegahr have been friends for
many seasons, that he knows the river and the terrain, and that it’s actually
Daegahr’s boat that we will be taking.
“How much of this journey is by river,” I ask, “and how much is
overland?” They explain that the first
couple days will be spent on the water, as there’s no great path that leads
upriver, passage by vehicle is impossible and horse is difficult, and Odesia’s
condition makes travel by horseback across dangerous ground less than ideal.
Trying not to be awkward, I inquire as to what villages
or settlements might exist east of Mirabar.
“There’s nothing,” Daegahr replies, “at least nothing within the bounds
of fishermen’s territory.” We learn that
Dagger’s Deep lies about two days along the river, and that Odesia’s tribe settles
perhaps a day from there. The
settlements that we knew—Shadfeld, Carrock—either don’t yet exist or, if they
do, they’re outside the realm of Daegahr’s knowledge.
The boat is smaller than one of Perhegan’s keelboats and
will require four rowers at any time to keep pace. Fortunately, we have enough able bodies. Odesia and Laerch have made every effort to
fulfill their end of the bargain, and all preparations to depart have already
been made. Before we can depart,
however, we hear a voice call out.
“Hold!” is the cry and, accompanied by another soldier, we see Rale Cotchen.
Rale glares at Odesia before turning to Laerch. “Surely you’re not bringing a woman in such a
condition on your journey,” he asks derisively.
“Our business is none of yours, cousin,” is Laerch’s reply, and the
tension rises as we all wait to see what Rale’s intentions might be.
“You have staunch allies,” Rale says antagonistically,
indicating me, Audric and Zargon, but after several long, awkward moments,
Rale turns to his comrade and gives an order. “See that their vessel departs safely,” he
says, before walking away with what seems to be disappointment. A collective sigh of relief washes over us,
and we board the vessel and depart.
Having never been aboard any kind of watercraft before,
it takes some time for me to gain my bearings, but manning one of the great oars
helps and, before long, we get into the rhythm of oaring and propelling the
boat upriver. As we do, Daegahr remarks to his friend, “I know he’s your cousin,
Laerch, but Rale Cotchen is a shit-eating bastard.”
“I’m going to kill Rale Cotchen one day,” is my reply,
and Audric’s stroke falters as he reaches back to elbow me. Laerch looks grim but does not reply. The last group of guards we see before
departing the city raises their axes in farewell, and soon, we are in
the wild.
We pass the day rowing upriver, and the punishment of the
oars sets in on those of us unaccustomed to the labor. It does give us time to talk, however, and I
interrogate Odesia as to the Keravela and what to expect when we
encounter them. “We don’t have
soldiers,” she replies, “so don’t expect to be greeted by guards. Nor will you necessarily be greeted with
trust and welcome. There is a word in my
language: fuge.” She explains that it means ‘to shun’ and is often applied to those who leave or marry outside the Keravela, and while she doesn’t
expect open opposition, nor will she necessarily be welcomed with open
arms. I realize that her offer to aid us, while it
may have seemed superficial, is actually much more complicated.
“Worst come to worst, do we have anything to fear from
the Keravela?” I ask. She replies
that they are generally a peaceful folk, and that as long as we aren’t actively
hostile or rude, we can expect the same in return.
I question Daegahr about potential dangers this far
upriver, and he explains that there are several barbarian tribes that,
while not necessarily friendly to outsiders, aren’t openly hostile, and tend to keep the river valley safe from goblins and
such. “We are traveling early in
the season, however,” he warns, explaining that the first vessels often carry most risk.
The day wears on and even Daegahr and Laerch look tired,
and they explain that we need to find a suitable place to dock and establish
camp. We lean on Daegahr’s experience in
the matter, and he pulls us into what looks like a small forest glade with trees
bearing the first buds of spring. A
small hill provides a decent vantage point and a dry place to rest, and we
begin to gather wood for a large fire.
Watches are set and I deploy a few abjurations to protect
the camp, and we settle in to the sounds of a crackling fire, the river
current, and the occasional call of a beast from the forest beyond. The night passes uneventfully. I do a quick circuit of the camp to check for
signs of predators that may be tracking our progress along the river or that
may have visited us in the night but find nothing.
During our second day, we see signs of fires and
habitation ahead—Dagger’s Deep! Daegahr and Laerch seem caught off-guard, and we realize that we never told them of the
settlement’s presence. Fortunately, the
news is well accepted, as both Daegahr and Laerch seem pleased at the prospect
of shelter and safety along the river.
Our vessel is greeted by Pol Rallinoth and others we have
come to know during our time at Dagger’s Deep, we explain our journey and ask
for news. Nothing ill has passed and a
cask of ale is opened in celebration, and we are glad to be among friends again
for a night. Laerch and Daegahr both
seem amazed at the development. We spend
an easy night in town, with Bonie and I sharing a tent once again in familiar
surroundings, and in the morning prepare for a hard day’s journey ahead. Only the best fishers are known to go further
upriver as the currents are strong. The
territory yields a bountiful catch, but the currents can be deadly.
The river passage becomes more difficult and the weather
thankfully sustains, overcast but visibility is good and doesn’t hinder our passage
at all or make it too uncomfortable. A
few hours into the morning, we see on the north bank an overturned
boat, and immediately I recall the pair of vigilantes that escaped into the
night. Audric seems hesitant to
investigate, but I am eager to have a look and Daegahr consents to pull to shore. As we draw closer, we see piles of furs near the water—seeming to confirm our fears that the men didn’t dock safely
and escape into the wood. When close to
the bank, I jump out and have a look, and Audric recognizes the crossbow bolt
sticking out of the back of the hull.
An arm dangles from beneath the overturned boat, and we right the craft,
revealing the corpse of one of the vigilantes.
We investigate for signs that may reveal the cause of
death—a slit throat, an arrow, claw marks.
It’s hard to tell given the time that has passed and due to the fact that
the corpse is bloodless and bloated, but we discover a crude spear that looks
like it has impaled the man.
Zargon asks if it’s the kind of weapon a Keravela or barbarian
tribe may use, but she says it’s not an implement she recognizes and that the Uthgardt tend to dwell south of the river. The weapon itself looks cruder than any used
by the Anaithnid, hinting perhaps at the presence of goblinoids.
Remembering that the vigilantes had a stash of weapons
beneath the furs, later revealed to be stolen from Mirabar, we search and find
a few in good repair, but can’t account for the entire haul. Searching the riverbank nearby, we find
no trace of trail or clear evidence what may have happened. Zargon finds a serviceable longsword and adds
the weapon to his gear, and as for the body, we drag it out of the river a few
yards deeper the woods before continuing our
journey.
After several more hours the sun begins to set, and we
decide to make camp as opposed to pressing on. We’re all tired and the prospect of rowing
into the night doesn’t appeal to anyone.
We find a suitable campsite on the south bank, and watches are split. Everyone is on edge knowing that
barbarians and worse are potentially nearby.
During the first watch, Laerch and Audric hear something
in the river breaking up the usual sounds of the rippling current, and on the
far shore they notice what appears to be a bipedal humanoid of some
sort leave the water, walk along the riverbank, then disappear back into the water. Audric decides not to provoke the creatures,
whatever they may be, and instead chooses to keep careful watch on them. The northern bank remains silent after the
creatures disappear back into the water, but after some time, the sounds are
heard again, this time closer to our camp.
Audric instructs Laerch to quietly wake the others.
Once awakened, I work a ritual to determine the presence
of hidden creatures and learn that potential enemies lurk to either side of us
along the river. As Audric sends Lume to
investigate, I complete another spell to protect the camp, and then all at once
we hear creatures scrambling along the bank towards us, perhaps a half-dozen approaching from
either side.
A wave of spears is launched into the camp by the
creatures, who are revealed to have slimy, scaly skin. They drip with water, and have
large, bulbous eyes. Both Daegahr and
Laerch are hit by spears and another glances off Audric’s armor. Zargon fires an arrow at one of the creatures
and it collapses immediately, killed by a masterful shot. Bonie and Daegahr, with his crossbow, also
fire, but miss. Audric cleaves into
one of the creatures with his axe, but the enemy does not fall. Selben’s eyes being to glow red, mimicking
the monsters encountered in Shadfeld, and a group of fish-men falls into fits
of trembling and shaking; all five drop their crude weapons and begin to
withdraw.
Audric engages in a furious melee supported by bowfire
from the group but is surrounded by five creatures who tear at him with
claw and fang. I manage to paralyze one of
the foes with magic, but not before Audric falls to a flurry of attacks. Zargon rushes in to support Audric, and with
sword, arrow and magic we try to fight the creatures off, while Laerch stumbles
forward and drags Audric’s body from the fray.
The tide of the battle, however, seems to turn against us
as more blows are exchanged, with our allies suffering the worst. In desperation, I step forward, an
incantation on my lips, and draw a knife across my chest drawing a thin line of
blood, roaring a challenge to a trio of enemies.
The challenge is bolstered by my magic and all three charge towards me,
with only one penetrating the magical defenses bestowed upon me by Audric
and Malar. Bonie and Daegahr join in against the
tangle of fish-men assaulting me, as Selben sees to the paralyzed creature and
Laerch tends to Audric.
Our spells, however, begin to fade and Daegahr is
brutalized by one of the creatures and falls. Laerch is assaulted by another of the
creatures as Selben’s magic wears off, eliciting a cry of horror from Odesia. Bonie nearly succumbs to multiple wounds of
her own but manages to decapitate an enemy before eventually
falling to the claws of another.
Our newest companion however, Zargon, fights like a
whirling blademaster, skewering one fish-man with his found longsword and decapitating
another. I roar in rage at the creature
that struck down Bonie, cursing it with my morning star. Fearing for our fallen companions and nearly
overcome by wounds ourselves, only me, Zargon and Selben are left standing as
Selben finishes off one of the creatures, drawing one of his knives across its
scaled throat, and Zargon removes the head of the last from its body, its headless
corpse slumping onto the wet ground as the head rolls to a stop nearby.
We are victorious…but by a narrow margin, and quickly
begin tending to the wounded. Though
none are beyond saving, Bonie, Laerch and Daegahr remain unconscious as I use
my only curative spell to revive Audric.
We are alive, but not yet out of danger.
Zeb, Selben, and Zargon eye each other warily at the distant snapping of a branch. Nearby, Audric groans in a swoon, unable to repose peacefully for his injuries. Bonie, Laerch, and Daegahr lay comatose amid the others, still as death. Odesia sleeps, her husband's feeble head cradled in her arms and pressed warmly against her body.
ReplyDeleteThe night air that surrounds them reeks of the eviscerated fish-creatures, scraps of scale and gore littering the grounds and overpowering the scent of the wafting campfire smoke. The question of the branch is left unanswered and does not recur.
By their estimation, the party is somewhere near the midway point between Dagger's Deep and the wandering tribes of the Keravela. Odesia has spoken little of her people or family since their departure, though for now there remain more imminent concerns: rest, safety, and salvation for those that still hover in the throes between life and death.