[Pathfinder] Journeys.

[Gainsdalf the Whey]

Bronan starts forward to bash the cultist's skull in, but stops when the armored man emerges and does it himself. When beckoned forward, he hefts his shield up and does so very cautiously, not trusting this man and his magics. He looks the statues up and down as the door slams shut,not surprising the Brobarian in the least. This was a cage, a cage meant for a fight in which two parties entered, and one party leaves. He stands silent looking on as the others ask their questions. When they are finished, he steps forward, and in a voice that rings with challenge, he speaks.

 

"How much do you squat, bro?"

 

Once answered he nods, not giving away what he thinks of the answer.

 

"Now, what is this place and what does this all have to do with me?"

 

He was obviosuly expected, few in the lands could carry that weight that he had for the distance he did. That means something here was designed for him, his people, or someone like him to have to prove themselves worthy to access long ago.

[The Most Loathed]

Elora stands, mouth agape, and simply asks his name and his story.

[cn3wton]

The man sits back in his chair as the group each takes their turn asking what they will.

 

"Friend?! You call us friend? When you send skeletons against us, I do not feel so agreeable. Where is the woman you stole and why all this death of innocents?"

 

"Am am sure it must seem as such, but know you where never in true danger from me. The loss of innocent life was not my doing , and I stole no one."

 

"How did you expect this, reunion to play out? Is this my introduction to my life before my last visit to the Halls of Mandos?"

 

"Not like this, never this..."

 

"I will not be your pawn. If I was then, I will reckon with that in my next visit to the Halls. But now? Now I am here for myself and with my friends."

 

"I would argue that we are all pawns, though you where never mind."

 

 

“Admirable theatrics. But you knew we would make it to this point. The graves, the strength test, the fountain, now the statues… You were expecting, if not downright inviting us. So this is the point where we finally come face to face, you’ve played with our minds and done your little mystery act. It all boils down to this and you probably expect us to ask all the wrong questions. Who are you, why are you doing all this, what’s going on…. Or maybe you want to explain it all anyway. After all, you have summoned us here. All the way from Harglenn. You’ve gone to great lengths to get us here. So, get on with it and get ready to throw down after. No words can wash away your actions or make me want to spare your evil existence. If I fall in the act, so be it. It will be a fine way to go, fighting and between my real friendsâ€

 

"There is not trickery here. Indeed this very place was built for you a very long time ago. We have never seen eye to eye you and I. We will indeed fight, but not for the reasons you believe."

 

 

"How much do you squat, bro?"

 

The man lets out a laugh that catches the group by surprise. It echoes through the room. "It has been a long time since I have stepped upon the fields to test myself. Though I am sure it is at least ten more than you!?!?" He laughs again.

 

"Now, what is this place and what does this all have to do with me?"

 

"I will explain all shortly, this has everything to do with all of you."

 

Elora steps forward, the last of his group asking the name of the mysterious stranger. He leans forward and smiles. "You can call me Rurik, and I do bellieve it is time to tell you my story."

 

As he rests his elbows upon his knees he speaks to the group. "I must keep this short. I once fought with your ancestors, your past selves, or whatever you would call it. I do not have the time now to debate, or pursue this track of thought. We fought a force that sought to tear open a hole in this world and claim it as their own. You see their world was, is, dying. Their solution? To take ours. We fought them, and won. But at a great cost. Hundreds, no thousands where lost. My sister among them." He leans back, one arm on his lap the other holding his hand to his forehead.

 

"Our lands where destroyed and defiled, so we traveled across the great sea in hopes to start again. I was chosen as king and ruled for a time. Though the enemy is ever present in my mind. Desperate I knew they would try to claim this world again. A comrade from the battle shared this. A man some know as Death, caretaker of souls."

 

Rurik stood, then stepped down from the platform. "He would make me a vessel for the spirits of the willing. Interred here would be an army capable of crushing our enemy when they returned. I had but one condition." He looks to his feet "That my sisters spirit be placed in my care." He sighs. He obliged, and many sacrificed themselves upon the altar to protect the future of this world."

 

"I watched her live and grow old over and over again. Protecting her. In the village she lived happily." 

 

"I was betrayed!" His voice changes suddenly, though his mouth moves it seems as if it comes from all directions. Just as the dragons had before. He clutches his left eye. 

 

"Someone revealed the location of this place. And sent those cultists, those who seek to destroy this world. They came, using some foul magic to mask their presence. Once I discovered them it was too late. I could not touch them. They had some sort of power to keep me at bay. Their leader seemed to be the source so I was able to kill those in the village. But I was too late..."

 

"You killed her!"

 

He drops his hand, his left eye now engulfed in red, streams of red spread across his face. He raises his fist into the air and a wave of bone rises from the floor. Violently throwing Elora, Flo, and Bacon to the sides. He lowers his hand and a large wall of bone bursts from the ground, seperating Bronan from the rest. "There is not much time left. This place was built to test you. I have failed my own test, by killing the leader I have corrupted my power. It spreads now. And I will not see it fester and destroy the others as it consumes me."

 

He turns to Bronan as he begins to remove his armor, revealing his bare chest and arms. "Our contests of strength once shook the earth and where the stuff of legend. I would see it so again. I am sorry my friend, but I cannot fight it any longer..."

 

"DIE!"

 

Below the catacombs burst with movement. Undead begin to claw their way up to the the heroes level. Only Flo, Elora, and Bacon stand in their way. Preventing them from reeking havoc on the outside world.

[The Most Loathed]

Elora sees the undead rise yet again.

"undead, why did it have to be undead?"

She begins and eerie chant that seems to crack through the feral needs of the undead, giving the section to the left of the leading wave a short pause. They are quickly overtaken by their bretheren and crushed. The pitch and chant changes and a section on the leading wave on the right pauses and is crushed. 

 

As the wave crests again she draws a single arrow and drops it into the throat of one undead, not killing it but pinning it to its neighbor. She draws breathe, throws the bow to the ground, regrips her staff. Elora releases a feral roar you would have never believed that she is capable of and races into the quickly closing lead rank and swings with wild abandon, heedless of the scratches and bites she may take. She forfeits herself body and soul to defending humanity.

[DarK_RaideR]

Bacon stands up and inspects the bone wall seperating them from Bronan and the man introduced as Rurik. He then turns around to see more undead rising up from the ground. "Of course" he sighs. The gnome's movements are tired and slow as he pulls out a small crystal lens out of his pocket. He brings it closer to his right eye, much like one would do with a monocle, and focuses his gaze on Flo. The distortion is dizzying, making the elf appear huge, taking over all of his field of vision. Bacon feels the first signs of a headache before the rush of magic washes them away. When he finally removes the lens with relief, the world returns to its normal state of existence. Well, all of it except Flo. His trinket has done the trick, increasing the most capable fighting member around in size and strength.

 

The sorcerer tosses any remaining Adhesive Spittle gums he finds in his robe, pinning the undead on the spot and buying everybody some precious time. He then returns to his trusty spear, only this time he grabs and wields it like a staff. With the knowledge and tired resignation of a veteran, he starts swinging it around, splintering little bone but being annoying enough to keep the dead at bay. The receipt for his attitude is quick, as clawing on his back gets the blood flowing and reminds him that this is still a situation that might claim his life. Snorting in frustration to swallow the pain, he keeps bashing around. Hopefully, Bronan will get the best of Rurik, a defeat that will also banish the dark magic holding the restless dead together.

[Terinatum]

Flo listens, realizing she may indeed be right about her past life being connected to this… man? Rurik seems more than that now, she thinks as though she would know there were differences. He startles her when he yells and grasps his eye. She focuses on his eye, but something is getting in her vision. All she hears for a moment was Rurik scream in anger and something else entirely. She moves to get to Bronan, but gets tossed back by the ground losing its form yet again.

 

Zombies! "Arrrrrrrrrrr…" Flo kicks one that fell forward immediately, being shoved by its own kind in an effort to get to the living flesh. The body almost evaporates, but manages to create havoc for five of them behind it. She gets her footing and decides it's way too late for a bow so she musters up herself as scoops up handy rocks. She twists out of the way of an arm reaching out for her and spins around to regain her vantage point. She feels extraordinarily dizzy from the move and has to set her feet to regain her composure. She throws the rocks in hopes that they keep them away long enough.

 

The world spins uncontrollably and Flo can't defend herself. A grossly decaying arm swings out in front of her and she takes the hit with no dodge. So much for my nose. The blood is instantly all over and she swings wildly to get the zombies away from her. The world comes into a strange clearness, but her brain was still playing games with her. She looks out to the enemy and seems suddenly huge in comparison to just moments before. Bigger? Means stronger, yes? Magic! Thank you!

 

She dives into the wall of zombies and smashes everything she touches. No one is getting to my friends. They had already gotten one of her party, she was not losing another. A bone, or two, break easily under her foot. She grabs one smaller enemy and chucks him into the fray of enemies, knocking down several. The horde, yes horde, still streams forward and Flo is losing some ground. Even being stronger, the tide was not in her favor.

 

She shoves two zombies out in front of her and kicks out with her left foot, jamming it into the ribcage of another. Several cracks come from the effort and she decides it's not something she has to pay any more attention to. Her vision shifts again, but the dizzy part is not present. She is thankful and she back hands a part of the body she can't identify fast enough before it explodes from the force. Gunk flies and she manages to get some in her face and mouth. She spits without thinking and her nose flares in anger. She can't see for the mist has taken shapes to disorient her. She sees her brothers playing without her in the trees at home. She rips the head off an undead and again is assailed with grime. I couldn't have been more than 50 when that happened?  She feels a hard punch in her leg near her knee. She looks down to see a zombie partly trampled still fighting.

 

The vision shifts and Flo is assaulted with pain, in her heart. Her father's body lays before her as it did two decades earlier. His mangled body was scavenged and nothing but rags were left. His ears had been cut off and his hair as well. Trophies. She fights with more vigor, trying to ward off the memories. She pounds a zombie down to the ground. And screams in frustration and anger. Her own pain be damned, she was in the mood to deliver some more.

 

She tackles two at the same time and bashes them repeatedly with her bracers. She comes up with one in her hands and flings it out away from her, catching another two that were headed toward the Bard. They all fall in a heap, but Flo's attention is drawn quickly away. Three more hands are grasping for purchase on her in any way possible. She feels her muscles screaming from the torture of combat. She begs for more time and kicks something that feels rubbery and smell revolting.

 

The noise is already deafening so why can I hear my own voice? Flo senses more time being altered. She hears herself singing to a potential season-mate, but is denied. She hears herself crying in shame that she was not chosen that year or the three before that. Don't show me weakness already. I need to kill. She slices though a stomach with her whole arm and rips out its guts. She wraps it's guts around its comrade and yanks them both off the ground.

 

She gets hit in the arm and she knows that will be tender for days. She heads right for the assailant and drives her whole body into it and pushes it back into far too many others. She tries to keep her friends clear of the mess, but there was no telling how well that was going She could see Bronan occasionally, but the Bard and Bacon were hopefully behind her and defending themselves as best they could.

 

How much longer does this have to last?

[Gainsdalf the Whey]

Bronan doesn’t recall the battles of old, but it just sounds right. He nods as follows along as Rurik strips off his armor. For Bronan it is only a few straps to release the breast plate from his torso. He tosses it and his other things to the side. He stands ready, bouncing back and forth in anticipation, the entire time getting amped up and moving in the void that gives him that extra strength, that extra bit of pop in every movement.

When the man yells die, Bronan charges in to meet him and the two hit with a sickening thud as if a giant and swung an entire carcass at a solid surface. As they clash, a flash of a memory enters Bronan’s vision of them having this exact same impact, but in the middle of a group of laughing people in a clearing outside some small town. Just as quickly as it flashes, it is gone.

Being heavier and stronger, Bronan continues forward after the impact. Rurik knows he doesn’t have the advantage in the regards and ducks down, grappling Bronan’s legs and twisting his body, sending Bronan flipping over him and slamming into the ground. Bronan uses his momentum pull Rurik along with him and try to get on top, but instead of resisting Rurik allows him to pull him a long and even throws himself further forward, tearing out of Bronan’s grip and tumbling out of reach. As he flies past, another vision flashes and disappears of the same position from the past, this time on a rocky outcrop by a campfire. Both quickly recover and begin circling each other, looking for an opening to attack.

When Rurik closes his eyes for a moment and shakes his head against whatever corrupting force is taking over, Bronan attacks and lands a hard shot to the man’s jaw. He spins around Bronan and lands a shot to the kidney of his own, but pays for it as Bronan pivots the other way and send a kick to his gut, sending him sprawling backward.

This continues for a few minutes, the men sweating and maneuvering around one another, each landing their share of the blows, but Bronan landed more as he takes advantage of whatever internal struggle is going on. As it continues, the character in Rurik’s eyes begins to fade, more and more often being filled with the rage and look of some other being, someone other than the man they had spoken to before the battle erupted. By the end, they are both bruised and bloody from various blunt force wounds. Bronan has one eye swollen shut, and a broken rib. Rurik's nose is broken along with 2-3 of his fingers.

The fight gets taken near the chasm as they battle. The two grapple, trading blows and head-butts. With his back to the chasm, Bronan shoves Rurik away to take advantage of his reach, but the man quickly gains his footing and attempts to close the distance by tackling Bronan. The Brobarian instead drops backward, plants a foot in Rurik’s gut while grasping his hair, then flings him over toward the chasm. As the man rolls and skids toward the edge, Bronan is sure he is going over and scrambles to try to grab him before he goes. He’s not fast enough though, and as he reaches the edge, Rurik is just reaching the end of sight as he plummets into the darkness below, screaming with rage.

[cn3wton]

With the final blow a sense of clarity fills Rurik. As his weight falls over the edge he feels at peace. He lets himself fall. He smiles when he sees Bronan attempt to save him. His friend was just like he remembered, no, stronger than before. There was no saving Rurik however. The corruption could not be stopped. It would fester until it consumed him, and Rurik had no desire for that to be his legacy.

 

As he begins to plummet the skeletal barricade falls and the waves of encroaching undead recedes. The group rushes over to the edge just as Bronan attempts to reach out. The blue orb rockets from the ceiling after the falling form, pursuing it into the darkness. 

 

Rurik slams into the ground with bone shattering force. Lying there in his broken body the blue orb halts at his side. It begins to shift and expand, taking the form of a woman. She takes his hand in hers.

 

"Sister..." Rurik's eyes shut for the final time. His body begins to rapidly decay, drawn through his body his essence is drawn, coalescing into his sisters palm in a brilliant green orb. Once his body is nothing but dust the woman stands and she too returns to her orb shape. And together they begin to ascend. As they do thousands of other essences begin to rise from their slumbers, finally released.

 

The group stand as silent observers, the orbs begin to flow together in a fascinating display. The two orbs, Ruriks and his sisters hover before the group. "Follow the golden eagle friends, though it may take time and you may face many challenges know that fate will lead you where you are needed." They pause for just a second before the group letting the words sink in, before joining the ever expanding streams of brilliant light. Slowly the flow begins to taper off and the glow winks out far above them.

 

Silently the bar slides from the doors as they swing open, allowing the group to exit. They make their way through the halls once again, taking it all in with a fresh new perspective. Until finally they stand once again before the two statues holding the great burden Bronan had once carried, atop it a golden eagle is perched, its wingspans as wide as Bronan is tall. It quickly soars into the sky, flying West.

 

Authors note

 

To most the tales of these adventurers ends in Harglenn. Many have sought to assume the roles of these heroes, and it has taken me much time to discover the true path.

 

It is in my humble opinion that it is in the stories untold that you can learn the most truth. I walked these ancient halls in hopes of catching but a glimpse of a story. Though as I exit, finding a large golden feather at my feet, I find that maybe this story has yet to truly begin. And that I am but a small part of it.

[cn3wton]

Years passed as each member of the group began to follow the Golden Eagle. At times they would find themselves reunited upon the path, and at others they sought solitude. To seek answers; settle old scores. The world has changed and not for the better. War rips many nations apart. Disease and famine cuts through the countryside like a scythe through wheat.

 

This is not a coincidence.

 

The heroes aid those they can, and when all seems lost their guide returns. Though after nearly 5 years many begin to doubt their quest. And how could they not when things seemed so grim.

 

They have traveled very far, over snow topped mountains and through forests few dared tread. It is in one of these forests that we begin the next chapter of this tale.

 

It had been four days since they had entered the forest. The path they followed shot straight forward ending upon the horizon. Though each step brought more of the same. The trees grew progressively larger as they went; wildlife seemed to flourish. The songs of birds set a steady rythm to their march. The eagle stayed close now, flying just ahead and perching upon high at night. 

 

It was hard to believe that anything secret could lie upon the path, for not once had it forked or turned. As the group began to fear that yet another day would pass with the sign of a destination the great trees seemed to just end. The great eagle dove forward into an immense clearing and began to circle. 

 

Within the boundaries of the clearing a rather large town stood, neat and orderly made up of buildings of numerous material. At its center upon a hill stood a modest castle, made of a deep dark stone unlike anything the group had seen before. Their where no other visible entrances to to the town extending to the perimeter of the clearing, and a large gentle river flowed beneath a river not a hundred paces before them, with a great bridge spanning it.

 

It was here that the great bird circled. And as they approached they see a man seated upon the grass. He watches as two children play in the river, flowing as gently as a stream. When they grow near the man stands and turns, the golden eagle dives to him and perches upon his arm. Even from a distance the mans smile is warm. He turns his head to the great eagle as if he is whispering to it. It then spreads its great wings and for a moment it appears as if they belong to the man himself. And with great speed the eagle flys, disappearing into the forest.

 

"Welcome friends, this has been a most anticipated meeting." His smile grows even wider. He is a man of average build. His hair is long and dark, cascading down his back with only two large braids falling upon his chest. He is clean shaven and of a medium complexion. His pupils light gray. He wears a simple tunic and breeches, his feet bare.

 

"I am certain that you have many questions, and I shall answer what I can soon. My name is Hon'ga; I am the man you seek."

 

The two children break from the water and run to the man. They appear to be twins, a boy and a girl. The boy steps forward and points to Bronan "Want to wrestle mister, I may be small but I can take ya!" He puffs up his chest as he says it with a wide grin. The left side of his face is marred with a dark red birthmark, seeming to sprout forth from his left socket. The left eye itself red with no pupil, the right pupil a brilliant green.  

 

The girl steps from behind the man and grasps her brothers wrist shyly, taking great care to keep Hon'ga and her brother between them, her bright blue eyes stare out from beneath her hair. She pulls his arm back, obviously wanting to return to the water.

 

"Ok sis, maybe next time mister." And together they return to the edge of the water.

 

Once out of earshot Hon'ga speaks to them again. "They more than anyone deserves a rest. What more could I offer to them than a peaceful childhood? I'm afraid the corruption has left its mark however, and it may never vanish." A woman crosses into view, flanked by two female warriors. Her beauty staggering, not just her physical appearence, no. It's as if you feel compelled to stare, that your eyes themselves betray your mind just to get another glimpse of her. 

 

"Perfect timing, everyone this is my wife Claire." Hong'a says. She smiles and bows her head slightly in greeting. 

"Children it is time to return home, we will speak later travelers."

 

She moves to the side of the river and proceeds to pat the children dry before pulling tunics over their heads. They then take her hand and begin to walk down the road towards the town.

 

"I should be getting along too, there is a tavern in town that you can call home. The owner already expects you. Just follow the main road in and you can't miss it. Theres also a small market you can visit. The local blacksmiths can help you with any gear, and there's even a local shaman who can sell you some of his creations. Feel free to look around." He begins to turn to catch up with his wife but stops. "Oh and dinner's at seven, at the big place on the hill." He smiles then jogs to catch up.

 

The group gathers themselves and heads into town. They are instantly shocked to to see the diversity within. Orcs, elves, dwarves, and many more races seem to be going about their daily lives. 

 

This is definitely an interesting place.

[Terinatum]

The tall elven woman, young, but slightly weathered, watches the crowd with ease. Her copper hair flies free in the steady wind provided by the plateau town of - Well, she actually can't remember. She fiddles with a wooden trick box whilst sitting on the rooftop of the tallest building in town. It isn't much of a town compared to some she's been through. It actually reminds me of what happened in that first town years ago.

 

Flo shakes her head to clear the sad view from her inner eye. There was nothing she could have done different to change what had happened. She still thinks about the people in that town. She wondered if anyone won her friend's hand in marriage. What is her name? Damn this mind of mine. It's good for so little these days.

 

Before the familiar rant of needing more rest and better food, she rolls over onto her stomach and slips back down the pole the puts her in the under-roof. Too many jobs have been a waste of time and only a few adventures actually spark a smile anymore.

 

"I could use a dose of the Boys and the Bard," Flo whispers under her breath. It had been too long. And I'm almost positive I saw an eagle the other day in the fields, taunting me. Nothing to be done about it now. Except go look for the eagle, Flo. She wipes her dripping nose on her sleeve before remembering the ache of her broken nose. Ahhh. I wouldn't have this if the others were around. They would have had my back. And I wouldn't have two breaks now. Indeed. It had been too long since she laid eyes on her friends. Far too long.

 

She wraps up the gift for the guild members that are sure to be on their way now and waters it just in case. The mumbling creature sounded horribly uncomfortable, but it would live to hear the verdict of its transgressions. She had only meant to drop by and pay respects to the Master Rogue, but this story caught her ear and she was hooked. It turned out more horrifying than intriguing. Another desperate attempt to take from those who have so little already. Not her style. And the little boy left to die after this thing came and went was severely sickened. He will live, but his dreams will ever be haunted. She got the Master to help the family resettle in the next tent town, lower on the plateau. She hopes it's enough for them, but there's just no way to know.

 

She chides herself for caring so damn much for these people. They are all cowering inside their little worlds, hoping the big things pass them by. Flo is convinced they will be in for a rude surprise come one morning.

 

The sun is down and the bright moon just outside the tavern window promises an easy travel night. Flo is packing the last of her rations and her new outfit. Her gear is worn, but serviceable. She smiles as she wraps the old bow in its winter cloth. She doesn't wear it when she runs. She relies on her sword and her hammer, if it's needed. Running with the moon definitely cuts down on unwelcomed encounters. She checks the room for any forgotten items and then turns, leaving a room she's only known for three days. The bartender downstairs gives her the evil eye and she walks out without a word. He will not like the verdict either. She grins as she picks up her pace and trots out of town.

 

The openness of the road pleases Flo. She likes this part of traveling. She cannot recall how many towns and mountains she's seen, but it doesn't matter really. She will always want to see the next one.

 

"Alright, Eagle. Where are you at? I'm coming friends." 

[DarK_RaideR]

The years had not been kind to Bacon. The otherwise cheerful gnome was by now more dour, serious and pragmatic. The spark was gone from his eyes, ground to dust by the grim reality of this world. It had been replaced by something else, however. There was a steadiness in his gaze, a certain determination, though nobody could tell as to what. His appearance had changed significantly too, reflecting the change that had taken place. Gone were the flowing, colorful robes he used to sport. They had been replaced by comfortable clothes that still retained a degree of comfort: beige pantaloons, a pair of sturdy boots and a dark green vest that left most of his chest and arms exposed. The tattoo on the left side of his chest was now visible to everyone, a dragonscale with writing in the Sylvan language around it to commemorate the group's victory over the Wyrm in Harglenn and celebrate their friendship, built and tested under that trial. It was not the only one on him now. A strange pattern of tribal art made to resemble leaves covered his shaved head. He hadn't told anyone, but his hair was lost during the time he and his friends had been separated, claimed by a freak disease that also left his body wracked even after recovering. It was one of the many things he didn't like talking about. The years between had been rough and he had spent most of them either in seclusion or deep in the forest with the fey folk, withdrawn from the eyes of the world.

 

Once inside the city, Bacon immediately feels out of his waters. Maybe the long time spent in the woods got him unused to civilization. He skips the ideas of visiting the market or inns, something his former self would jump at the opportunity to check out, instead heading for the local shaman's lodge. Discussing magic might be something he can use to socialize and learn the local news. Once that is done, he intends to connect with the local community he feels closer to: if there's any group of fey residing in town he'll be lucky, otherwise he'll have to hang out with his fellow gnomes. He never was the industrious type himself, but it'll have to do. As a last resort and a place to get his mind back together into a peaceful state, he will leave the town behind him and head for the edge of the woods

[Terinatum]

Flo couldn't really believe what she sees as she follows the eagle through parts she has never stayed around long enough to 'see' what was happening. Her senses are so over-worked, she feels numb. Vermin lie dead in the gutters and along the road. Some eaten, most just left to die. Too much competition, she supposes. Must be they feel that way about cats too. She counted 4 dead cats within the space of a few blocks in the last town she went through before entering these never ending woods. It was nice here. For now.

 

As Flo follows the bend in the path, she sees Bacon and Bronan after she jumps into a low squat when she hears the sound of footsteps. Her heart beats faster, but it is tempered too quickly by the condition of her friends. Time apart had not been good for them this last time. She plainly sees the affect of all the social grievances that Bacon has experienced. He wears it on his face. Bronan is harder to read now. Maybe it's just been awhile since she had seen him. She gives each of them a warm hug.

 

They fall into a relatively quiet march through the woods. Trying to up the mood a bit, Flo ponders aloud, "Perhaps good wine will await us wherever we are headed."

[cn3wton]

As the group enters the city Bacon and Bronan seperate from Flo for a time. 

 

As they walk, a gnome and a giant of a man, they draw little to no attention. A strange sensation indeed. But when looking around it seems to be the norm in this strange place. A refreshing change to be sure. They stop to ask for directions on occasion, and find themselves along a path leading to a small hut on the outskirts of town, a large tree hangs above casting an even larger shadow across the eaves and on the ground before the small home.

Two figures before the home in the center of a large dirt circle, worn by thousands of steps. As the adventurers grow closer they can make out the form of a man and a woman. Each have cloth wrapped about their waste and carry wooden staffs. Sweat drips down their naked skin. 

 

The man is clean shaven, even his head. Strange tattoos with the appearence of scales cover the back of his body, a strange mix of dark shades. The woman has long red hair that falls freely down her back, she bears a slight resemblence to the female warriors from the bridge. Both breathe heavily, their muscles prepared to strike at a moments notice. 

 

Quickly they both dive towards one another, a series of blows are exchanged and deflected. Each handling the weapon with expertise. They pause for just a moment before beginning anew. Bacon and Bronan stop a few meters away. Again the two attempt to outmanavuer the other, aand again they end in stalemate. As they prepare to enter the fray once again the mans eyes dart back to the onlookers, providing the opening that the woman needed. She whips forward putting all of her force into the swing, the man tries to recover but is to late. The staff strikes him first in the side, then she swings the staff around her body stopping it just shy of his ankle.

 

"Well now that wasn't very fair..." The man says between panted breathes, nursing his side with his free hand. The woman laughs.

"You should know better by now." she smiles then moves in, the two embrace quickly. The woman nods her head towards Bacon and Bronan "Best get to work husband."

 

She enters the hut while the man moves to the group. "Hello friends it is good to see you. It's not often I see new people so you must forgive my surprise. Though I must say your unexpected arrival did cost me."

"Oh really?" the womans voice comes from within the hut.

"Ah yes, and that will surely cost me more!" The man says before laughing. Grasping his now bruised side in the process. "But where are my manners, please come in. My name is Kadra, and the lovely woman who bested me is my wife Orithia."

 

As they move to the entrance of the hut Kadra places his hand on a large wooden carving, a sign of relief spreads across his face as the bruising upon his side begins to quickly dissappear. Orithia appears, now wearing a cloth robe with a thick colorful belt. Kadra grabs a similar garment from a peg beside the door. The main room looks similar to any normal hut, a small fire burns at the far end with furniture here and there. The right room holds a bed and a few chests upon the ground. 

 

Kadra leads them to the left, through a passage blocked by some sort of hanging adornment. The two men push these aside as they enter. Inside the room are numerous other carvings, various plants, and many colorful liquids in jars filling the shelves.

 

"What can I help you with my friends?"

 

Meanwhile, in the market, Flo searches for any sign of guild activities. She is not shocked to find little evidence of their presence. While she notices no official signs of figures their to keep order, she is quite sure it is unneeded. While certainly larger than she had at first estimated, the town seemed to be quite a peaceful place. Almost like a refuge. 

 

Certain that there would be no contacts here to locate she enters the market. After a time she is approached, she quickly recognizes the figure as Claire, Hon'ga's wife. "What a surprise to see you and your friends out already. I was certain that you would be tired from your journey." She moves closer, so that only Flo could hear her words. "I would ask that you not make trouble. Thievery will not be tolerated." She smiles "Though I am certain that will not be a problem. I shall see you at dinner." She turns and walks away. How had she known what, or who Flo had been searching for? Quickly she realized there was much more to that woman, and this place, than what was seen on the surface.

[Terinatum]

The human male that greats them with no surprise is, at first meeting, not pretentious which lends a piece of relief to Flo's wavering disposition. I want to be happy, joyous, free… unsure that will come about again in this life, she swallows her openness and keeps her senses sharp.

 

Flo smiles absently at the family and tries not to stare at Hung'a  as he speaks to them at the bridge. Flo is far from a parental age so she is a bit perplexed why the playing children have such a pull on her. Perhaps it's the innocence that she has not seen in years. When did this decline actually start? She tries to recall events before she met Bronan and Bacon and the others, but nothing really stands out. Again she curses the fact that they may have been unwitting pawns in a catalyst that is now grappling this world.

 

The three friends move along into town after being invited to an evening meal. Flo feels the need to find some manner of familiarity. She leaves the boys so she can "look for some clothes and wine" in the market. They seem to walk off together which makes Flo feel good. They do well when they spend time together.

 

She doesn't search for any guild evidence at first, but admires the town as a creature of its own. The whole area seems like a gentle moving tapestry. It's not slow moving or static, but smooth and it possesses a sense of right that feels warm on Flo's skin. All of it rings so vivid on Flo's senses. She takes in the beauty of the architecture, bridges, and other engineering features she comes across, although admittedly she lucky to connect anything with important knowledge she has gained thus far in life (engineering: 6). So she studies the buildings and how they shape the movement of the people, the animals, and even the weather.

 

Soon enough she comes across a clothing and fabric shop which takes her no time at all to decide on a closer look. Some of the materials are fresh, some worn or aged, but they all seem worth some coin. But how much? Flo lingers her eyes on a wool vest that is thinner than one would think, but the warmth it can hold close to the skin is unmistakable. She eyes the shop keeper, intimating she would like to take a closer look and see if her hunch is right.

 

While she waits for the keeper to finish with another onlooker, Flo inspects the market with a more professional eye. The common symbols near booths and along building foundations are nonexistent. Very unusual. Even for such an out of the way haven, you'd think there would be some rules in place on the other side of the law. But… As Flo looks around a little closer, she realizes the lack of security and risk are both lacking. Now that's curious. She turns back to the shop, checking to see that the vest is still there, when she notices a familiar face coming toward her. The human woman from the welcoming.

 

She starts polite conversation, but her stride tells another story (perception 21). As she slides up close to Flo, all becomes apparent and mildly impressive. So you know me. "I am ever grateful to partake of a lovely market place such as this. It's divine. I am happy to have the chance to look about before we break our fast together this evening." The woman moves along with a smile and no fear of Flo's actions. She is a confident human. It was refreshing and a bit unsettling. Am I that transparent when I do look for my guild? Better step up my skills, before I bring trouble to the one door I wish never to disturb with conflict.

 

The shop keeper comes into view with the vest in hand, inviting Flo to examine the work more closely and perhaps find a price that would benefit them both. Hum. "Let's see what there is to see." (appraise [value] 13, sense motive [hunch] 10, diplomacy [simple aid]19)

[cn3wton]

After an insightful trip to the market Flo makes her way to the inn.

 

Making her way to the main street she once again is amazed by the diversity in the town. Upon the main road numerous merchants work to construct displays, unlike the more permanent structures she visited earlier. Flo cannot believe her eyes, it is organized chaos. No fights over territory break out, and vendors even share laughter and light conversation as they move to construct their stands. Those who own permanent shops along the main thoroughfare are seen sweeping or tidying their already well maintained establishments. It is obvious they are all preparing for something, and at the speed they are working it must be soon.

 

Finding the inn proves easy, as it is marked with a sign in the shape of a large axe resting upon a mug of ale.

 

The building itself appears to be old, possibly one of the first of the settlement. A well worn wooden door shows sign of numerous visitors. It swings open easily revealing a modest area within.

 

Well worn but painstakingly cared for furnishing fill the room. A large bar lies across from the entrance with a great axe hung above it. A female orc stands behind it preparing something out of view. A group of three men stand at the to Flo's right near a large fireplace. They laugh and talk among themselves. 

 

The female orc wears a cream colored blouse. Her light brown skin accentuating her graying hair tied back in a bun. Rich brown eyes, appearing almost red, glance up quickly as Flo enters. The orc woman places a tightly wrapped package upon the bar before disappearing behind it for just a moment. She then reappears hoisting a rather large keg up with her. The men cheer and begin to gather their gear.

 

The closest man is a handsome human with golden hair cut short. He wears relatively simple looking clothing and well worn boots, but upon closer inspection they are of remarkable quality. He wears a dagger on his hip and an empty quiver on his back. He reverently grabs half a dozen arrows or so from the bar before retrieving a bow from its place on a nearby table. He smiles and nods to Flo.

 

A man with jet black hair stand next to him, gripping a long spear in his right hand. He wears dark leather and speaks quietly to the man with golden hair. Flo makes out the word "brother" as he looks to Flo for just an instant. His eyes are a rich yellow, though they appear to be more like the eyes of a reptile than a mans, with a pupil in the shape of a diamond. He quickly moves to the package upon the bar and takes it under his arm. 

 

The final member of the group is a dwarf. His dark red hair tied behind his back with a large beard. Numerous daggers lie sheathed across his bare chest. He deftly folds nets that he stows in pouches on his belt. He then dons a deep purple, near black, vest. He moves to the bar and slides the keg onto his shoulder. The orc woman takes the axe down from its place of honor with great care and hands it to the dwarf while saying "Carry this with you in honor of those who have gone before, good hunting." 

 

All the men bow their heads for a moment before thanking the woman. They acknowledge Flo as they leave.

 

Once the last exit the door the woman steps from behind the bar. She bows her head "Welcome, I am Borga. I was told to expect three of you , though I am certain that the others will arrive in time." She motions to a doorway to the left of the bar "Through there you will take a right and go up the stairs. Go left at the top and the three at the end are for you and your friends. I believe someone will be sent to provide you with some new clothes for dinner tonight if you would like to change. For now I can provide you with something if you wish to bathe and I can have your equipment cleaned."

 

Her fluent speech takes you by surprise, she shows not even a slight sign of an accent. The defining pronounced lower teeth all orcs share provides a somewhat different emphasis to certain words. But all in all it is clear that she is not your everyday orc.

 

"Can I get you something to eat. A drink perhaps?"

[DarK_RaideR]

Bacon walks the streets next to Bronan, still puzzled by the looks of the two children they met on the outskirts of town. Something about them seemed, no, felt, oddly familiar. The streets are clean and the town is a living wonder in how it's multi-cultural mix actually works without tension, but still Bacon can't shake a heavy feeling off his mind. Just like Harglenn, it all looks too good to be true and ready to be devoured by the grimness of reality. "When did it all get so hopeless?" Bacon wonders to himself, letting his mind race back to the purity of the wild woods.

 

Once they make it to the house, the gnome observes the battle and nudges Bronan on the thigh. "I don't know about love, big man, but this is certainly a relationship to aspire to, eh? Guessing your Brobarian women are the fighting type too". After the duel is finished and introductions are made, Bacon notices with some interest as Kadra uses the wooden carving, obviously some kind of magical healing trinket, and follows him inside.

 

"My name is Bacon and this here is Bronan, good friend and battle brother" the gnome answers Kadra's question. "I noticed the magic of your wooden carving, so I trust that the magic in my blood has led me to this place for good reason. I take it that your interests are inclined towards that area as well?"

[Gainsdalf the Whey]

The years have been kinder to Bronan that it has been to the others apparently, for war is what those in the tribes were born for. It is what their culture and lives are built around, so the Brobarian has been in his element. Sure, he has a few more scars as to be expected, but he strides tall and proud, leading a mule loaded down with his belongings so that he may travel light with just his breastplate and weapons on his person. He’d have left the breastplate on the mule, but in these times a lone traveler wass often set upon, even one the size of himself, so it was best to be ready. He had learned this lesson early and often.

 

He greets his friends with the same booming mirth and smile as he always has. During small talk they find that he has spent most of his time working as a mercenary for all sorts, typically picking the side he finds just in their cause. He prefers the smaller work of breaking up brigands or rising warlords around small villages, but as served in a large army or two for a time as well. He is always up front with his employers that he can only stay as long as fate allows and sets up his pay accordingly, so that when the Golden Eagle comes, he can follow without leaving a task he has been paid for unfinished.

 

When the Eagle perches on Hon’ga, Bronan’s eyes narrow. Not in suspicion, but of interest. Finally, some new development other than just waiting for the Eagle. It is clear that this place, this man, is one of its goals, if not the goal, in its efforts as their guide.  When the boy runs up, Bronan eyes light up with a smile in recognition, but he is gone before he can take the boy up on his challenge. Over the years of reflection on the visions he had seen during their fight, Bronan has come to the conclusion that he and Rurik were friends in a past life and likely would have been again without the corruption. He is happy to see that his soul lives on, with the only lasting effects of the corruption being on the flesh, not the essence.

 

Moving on with Bacon, Bronan takes in the sites. It is a peaceful town, which is a welcomed break from the norm, even for one that seeks battle such as himself. Battle had its place, but so did rest. However, he had an idea that any rest they are to have here will be short lived. The only disconcerting part is that he’s not the center of attention and the subject of many stares as he walks down the street, not something he is used to.

 

When they find Kadra and Orithia sparring, Bronan his happy to watch. Their technique is beautiful to watch, their dance graceful. He however knows he would best either, as he could match that dance, but power through and shatter their defenses in short order. There is something to be said for grace, but quite another when it is coupled with great power. At Bacon’s comment, he nods along in agreement. “Yes my friend. This is a common site back home. One of our courting rituals is to defeat your woman in battle. It cannot be easy however, she must be almost a match for you. A woman who bests any man will never marry, a good thing as she will be a great warrior and too busy for such things. A woman who cannot come close to matching the lesser men is not fit to be the mother of one of our children.”

 

When invited in, he loops the mule’s rope over whatever he can find out front and follows, the couple. His eyes open widely at the carving’s power. How useful! He lets Bacon make the introductions, and nods along. “That statue is indeed impressive. I have come here looking for potions of the like we have back home, increasing strength or speed in battle, but that totem now holds my interest much more. I would like to make it mine, for we have no medicine man with our troupe.”

[cn3wton]

Kadra sits before the pair listening intently. "I welcome you to my home Bacon and Bronan." He nods and smiles when Bacon brings up his trade. "They are indeed" he motions about the room. "While I have never had a knack for conjuring I make up for it with my ability to bestow magical properties upon items. I can also brew a host of different potions."

 

Hearing Bronans request he laughs. "The totem at my door is not for sale, nor could I sell it even if I wished too. It was once the trunk of a great tree that grew here. It was struck by lighting and slowly rotting away. I carved it into what you see today, and it roots grow deep providing a great source of power for it. Though it is not good for more than moderate wounds. You are welcome to use it whenever you wish of course. Though I do believe that I have something that may suit you better."

 

He shifts and leans over to a large chest of draws, he draws one forth and sets it between himself and the two men. "These talismans hold the power to cure wounds just as my totem does. Though they can only be used every so often as they need time to charge. You can wear it about the neck or however you prefer, and you only need to touch the face of the carving to your skin. I believe this one might be to your liking." He passes the small wooden object to Bronan, on closer inspection you see that it is in the shape of a dragon with a small hole at the top for fastening it to your person. Looking at the drawer there are numerous others; stags, lions, boars, almost every animal one could think of.

 

"As far as potions go..." He nimbly jumps up from the floor and moves to the shelving, pushing some inside, opening small containers filled with vials. "Ah yes here we are..." He stacks numerous boxes on themselves and places them on the floor. " I have a potion to increase your resistance to all that would do you harm," he gingerly lifts the lid of of the first box and places a vial filled with a vaguely purple liquid on a cloth before them. He then draws a red vial from the next box "one that bestows great strength," and opening the last box "and finally a potion to make you as swift as a cat. Do any of these appeal to you?" He reaches next to the chest and draws forth a small pouch "I will provide you with this special pouch free of charge. It will protect the vials and prevent them from breaking on your voyage."

 

Upon finishing their business Orithia pulls aside the barrier to the room. "Husband need I remind you of the time. If you keep this up you will miss the hunt. Or is it part of the tradition for you to be late?" 

 

"Oh yes!" he says as he quickly puts away the remaining goods. "I must apologize friends but tradition calls. I hope to see you tonight." He smiles and rushes into the next room. Orithia motions the men to the door. "It was a pleasure please come back anytime." She eyes Bronan, measuring him up. "Perhaps we may spar some time."

 

As she closes the door they hear Kadra calling to his wife. "Do you think I should take spear or bow this year my dear?" 

"It does not matter, you may be one of the best with a staff but you are by far the worst with a bow or spear that I have ever seen."

"Thanks for the support dear you inspire me so."

 

After leaving the Shaman the two head their seperate ways. Bronan chooses to visit the local blacksmith. He makes his way once again through the town and through the market. He finds on the northern side of the town a great forge built to mamoth size. Within he sees a dwarf striking metal upon an anvil while his assistant holds it in place and turns it. His assistant, a very large troll. This causes Bronan to break his stride for but a moment, but pushes on nonetheless. 

 

Once underneath the eves of the open establishment the dwarf does not cease his work. He continues for a short time before instructing his large friend to place the metal on the heat. The troll is quick to do so. Once inside the troll moves to the side and works the bellows a few times, before taking a seat on a large stool. The dwarf approaches bronan.

 

The hair of his beard is dark and singed, and he appears to be missing portions of his eyebrows. His white tunic is drenched in sweat and untied about the neck. Rolled sleeves reveal forearms corded with muscle. Soot stains his hands and begin to creep up his arm, so thick it may never truly come off. But what is most peculiar is his slightly pointed ears and jagged teeth.

 

"Hello there stranger, names Haggar." he notices Bronan staring and laughs "Don't you know its not nice to stare? Tis like you've never seena Troll afore!" He laughs again grabbing his sides as he does, the troll joins it. Obviously a well repeated jibe. Wiping tears from his eye he continues "What can I do for ya sir? Im certain I am the best smith you have ever encountered... Probably!" He laughs again, his sharp teeth once again visible.

 

Meanwhile Bacon finds his way around the perimeter of the forest. Peering into its depths as one does a pool of uncertain depth. He walks for a time before he spots movements just a few paces before him within the forest. It appears to be a man, no an orc, though of a transparent appearance, as if he wasn't really there at all. Always inquisitive he follows the apparitions lead and shortly stumbles upon a small clearing a short distance from the edge of the wood. In the center sits a large stone, a small campsite sits beside it with a fire pit. An inscription carved into the stone reads

 

Here lies the great warrior Bragg'dur. May he watch over us still as he did in life.

 

Three men enter the clearing just as Bacon finished reading. He quickly turns. A dwarf carries a large keg on one shoulder and a great double sided axe on the other. To his right a man with golden hair and fine clothing carries a bow, and behind them a man with dark hair and reptilian eyes holds a package in the crook of his arm and a long spear upon his shoulders. 

 

The man with the golden hair speaks first, as the others set their burdens down at the site. "Well hello there friend, what brings you to this place." 

 

Bacons answer seems to satisfy him and he continues. "Well I highly doubt you are here by chance. Perhaps you would like to join us on our hunt. It is an old tradition, of course most of us just come for the food and drink." He laughs. "My names Arthur, the dwarf is Varren, and the one over the with the dark hair and cheery mood is Darkon." He laughs again as Darkon shakes his head.

 

"So what say you friend, join us? I could use some competition as these fellows are lousy huntsmen!"

 

Just then another figure enters the clearing. Bacon quickly recognizes Kadra. 

 

"Hello Bacon it is good to see you again." he carries a bow and a small quiver on his back. "Are you to join us in our hunt? Me, I just come for the ale..."

[DarK_RaideR]

Bronan's response has Bacon smiling, a grin that doesn't reveal his troubled thinking. Partnering with a strong female is one thing, but having to defeat her in battle sounds odd to him. Might make sense for warlike tribes of brobarians, but where he comes from it's downright crazy. The thoughts are quickly washed away by Kadra's much more interesting tale. "A fascinating tale" he remarks with genuine excitement. "So you're telling us that this carving, in a way, captured the tree's life essence upon the lighting's strike, a force so overflowing that can not only heal you, but made the wood grow new roots and become part of your home, reaching back down deep inside the earth? That's truly a blessing, may the lives of you and your wife ever be blessed in a similar manner". As Kadra presents them with the carvings, Bacon digs his tiny hands into the box, shuffling the figurines until he finds one representing a badger. Picking it out for a closer observation, he smiles with satisfaction and happily pays the man.

 

In comparison to the town, the forest feels both inviting and daunting at the same time, hiding both promises and dangers. Bacon enters to immediately feel at peace, an almost meditative state. His discovery of Bragg'dur's tomb is interrupted by the hunters, requesting to know what has brought the sorcerer there. "My feet and a dirt path between the trees" he replies in a tone that's unclear whether his words are phrased with irony, defiance or a humorous mood. Introductions are made and the gnome immediately feels a tad more secure once he spots a familiar face among the troupe. "Well met, Kadra. Your friend Arthur here is the second man I've heard question your hunting skills today. Speaking of which, didn't Orithia leave with you for the hunt? Is this a boys versus girls team thing? Or perhaps it is not animals you lads are hunting for..."

[Terinatum]

Flo caresses the vest with delight. It isn't elven, but it is form fitting and smooth. A blessed relief from the leather she often wears these days. The price haggling, well, she does herself no favors there. It is pricey and Flo is only able to bring the cost down enough to make it feel like it's an even deal rather than a price clearly in her favor. Stealing's cheaper. Well… 'cept 'round here perhaps.

 

She settles up with the shopkeeper and heads into the bustle again. It is so busy, kinda like a festival, but different, more serious maybe? She can't find the word that fits, so let's the worry slip from her mind and enjoys the camaraderie all about her. Flo absently reaches out to help hold a pillar up as a young woman pounds in stacks at its base. Flo is rewarded with a smile and a silent thank you. Flo mirrors the same and walks off in search of the Inn. It is an easy find as Flo's height takes advantage over the heads of enough folks to spot the sign. The leaning axe brings her feet in line with the shortest distance necessary to get her there.

 

Entering the well-worn establishment brings back memories of other Inns, in better times. A large woman at the bar opposite is busy so Flo lets her gaze flow through the room with ease and its aptitude for memorizing spaces. The fireplace seems a wonderful temptation, but is at the moment, occupied by others. They too seem bonded by the day or the place. Are there any actual strangers here, besides us? And just how much do we really fit that description?  Flo watches the men leave and returns their nods.

 

The woman steps from behind the bar. She bows her head. "Welcome, I am Borga. I was told to expect three of you , though I am certain that the others will arrive in time." She motions to a doorway to the left of the bar. "Through there you will take a right and go up the stairs. Go left at the top and the three at the end are for you and your friends. I believe someone will be sent to provide you with some new clothes for dinner tonight if you would like to change. For now I can provide you with something if you wish to bathe and I can have your equipment cleaned."

 

The woman, Borga, barely finishes her speech and Flo is drooling at the prospect of cleanliness and new clothes.

 

"Can I get you something to eat. A drink perhaps?"

 

 "Bathe? Oh, yes. And some fine wine if it isn't too much hassle." She does hope the clothes match her new vest for she is excited to wear it. "I will lay out the equipment to be cleaned upstairs, thank you. Do I settle up with you in the morning for the room and services or do you wish a token ahead of time, either is fine, of course."

[cn3wton]

Borga smiles "Everything has been taken care of. I shall send someone to see to your equipment shortly." She nods to Flo then exits through the door behind the bar. Flo takes the stairs and chooses a room. Once inside she has only begun to settle in when a small figure enters the room. It is a young elven girl. She cautiously places a small pile of folded clothes on the bed, along with a pair of slippers.

 

"Some clothes mam, your bath's ready, bottom of the stairs to the right. She quickly shuffles out and disappears down the stairs. Flo examines the clothes then heads downstairs, finding a nice cozy room with a filled bath in its center. The door locks from the inside, and a window lets light into the room. The great forest can be seen in the distance, and a small bird rests on the open sill. 

 

Once she is finished she returns to her room, now wearing the clean clothes she sets what she wants washed down on the bed and returns to the main floor of the inn. It has grown quite busy, though a small table is available near the fireplace. The fire burns low as it proves plently warm. Making her way across she hears much excitement about the coming day. Statements such as "Busiest day of the year" and "enough coin to feed my fam for a year." 

 

Once seated the young girl returns, carrying a bottle of wine and a glass. She stands on her toes and just barely manages to slide them onto the edge of the table. She then quickly runs to the bar and wraps herself around the legs of the woman there. The woman looks down and laughs, patting the young girl on the head. She motions to the doorway behind the bar and the girl quickly runs to it. The woman approaches and motions to the chair. "You must excuse her, she insists on helping her. Though it has done little for her shyness. May I sit?" 

 

Once seated she nods "My names Sara, the young girl Liz. My husband and I shall be joining you for tomorrows festivities. Borga says your friends have yet to come in, I have sent my husband to find them." An elven woman enters behind the bar with Borga, continuing to attend to the customers. "Of course we will be present for dinner tonight as well, but I had hoped to meet you before then." She smiled, and the two carried on conversation for some time. Until a man entered, followed by others carrying large chests between them. Borga crooked her head towards Flo's table and the man approached.

 

Sara stood "Ah where has the time gone. I shall see you, I must find my husband and prepare for tonight!" She quickly exits the tavern. The man bows "Ma'm I have brought a vast selection of clothing for yourself and your friends for tonight." Those carrying the chests head towards the stairs and begin to lug them to Flo's room. Telling him that her friends have not yet arrived he frowns "Well, you know your friends well, perhaps you may choose for them? I am sorry but there is much to do and we cannot tarry." 

 

Flo follows the man upstairs, once entering her room she hardly recognizes it. Clothing lay neatly placed everywhere. Everything from traditional elven attire to dresses made of elegant fabrics. "Tonight is of course casual, may I suggest one of the following" he motions to the bed, where a dress is placed. It is rich in color and soft to the touch. Next to it is a pair of pants and a fine tunic, made of a similar fabric to the dress. "Though if the lady would prefer other options I have plenty here. And as if on queue two attendants open two large chests, filled with even more clothing. "And of course I would ask that you select something for your companions as well. 

 

Meanwhile the group of men eye Bacon. His question taking them off guard Arthur kneels before the man and smiles. "Indeed, for tonight we hunt the greatest game their is. You see not far from the boundaries of the forest their is a village. And every year they offer a virgin girl to the forest. He who catches her may claim the prize!" He stands then laughs as he sees the look on Bacon's face "I jest of course. We hunt normal game here friend. Though this is a brotherhood, a night for men to enjoy themselves." 

 

Kadra adds "And so they don't show us up." Varren and Arthur laugh, Darkon replies "Only you need worry about that friend. Though it is not Orithias hunting skills I doubt!" He then chuckles. 

 

"Would you look at that" Varren chimes in "Was that a smile? From you Darkon?" He laughs then pats Kadra on the back. "Tis your year friend, I can feel it."

 

As the group continues to make friendly jabs at one another Arthur lights the fire in the camp. "It grows late" he says "it's well past time we get things started." The men move to encircle the fire. Varren and Bacon stand while the others crouch, they then each place their hands on the shoulders of the man next to them. Bacon, being between Kadra and Varren follows their lead.

 

"We come today to celebrate and remember our brothers who have passed. We carry their weapons so that they may give us strength, and perhaps a bit of luck." Arthur suppresses a chuckle, the others follow suit. "We do this now until we too can join them again." Then Arthur begins to sing, though a single note. Not quite humming but not quite singing. It is of medium pitch. Darkon joins with a much lower note. Varren follows suit with a somewhat higher pitch. Kadra joins in and the combined sound resonates with Bacon. Its as if each man is summing up his own story in a single note. As if he is forcing his thoughts and experience into a single pure tone. Before he knows it Bacon adds his own voice, and one by one Arthur, Darkon, Varren, then Kadra cease until for just a second only Bacon remains, eyes closed, lost in it.

 

He quickly opens his eyes and looks about, all the other members of the group now look to him. All smile, even Darkon. "Well said friend, well said" Says Arthur. They break from their circle and gather what little gear they need. Bacon hefts his crossbow and they all move to the edge of the forest. Arthur turns and adresses the group, obviously for Bacons benefit. "Remember you may return with only one prize so choose wisely. You have an hour past the setting of the sun to return." He looks to Bacon "I believe it would be best if you where to stay with Kadra friend. I wish you luck." And with that Arthur, Darkon and Varren bolted into the woods. 

 

Kadra called after them "No cheating Darkon, you know what I mean!". Just within sight Darkon makes an quick gesture back to the man. Kadra laughs to himself, content that he got the last word in. "Shall we go?"

 

Bacon and Kadra set a modest pace into the forest. Wildlife was everywhere. From the tops of the trees to the ponds and streams. "This is my year Bacon, the year I finally bring back a great prize." They chat back and forth for a time, cautious to keep their voices low. They happen upon a clearing after a short time. Kadra motions to Bacon and they both crouch low and work their way through the brush. In the center of the opening, drinking from a small stream stood the most magnificent beast Bacon had ever seen. A golden stag, great horns stretching high into the sky. It's golden fur shining in the twilight. It raises its head and peers into the brush, as if staring at Bacon and Kadra himself.

 

Kadra takes in a breathe "The golden stag, has been years since hes been seen. What a blessing." Suddenly the stag turns facing the two men. Then bows low. A look of understanding washes over the shaman. "You must go to him Bacon, I believe he wishes to show you something." The two stand slowly to avoid spooking the awesome animal. It remains in place and Bacon approaches cautiously. When within reach he grasps at the stags fur. The softest thing he ever touched. He moves to swing his tiny frame atop the animal. Once seated the animal rises. Kadra stands before them, a great smile upon his face. "Take care of my friend great Stag." He looks to Bacon " I shall see you back at camp." 

 

With that the stag bolted into the forest, Bacon holding on for dear life and arms wrapped about the golden stags neck. He sees many things as he speeds through the forest, with little time to register and of it. Though it is clear he will never find his way back to the camp without help. After what seems and eternity his mount stops and stoops low. Allowing Bacon to once again return to the earth. Before him a great tree stands, Lights drift and dart about, they could only belong to small fey creatures. They light where the man stands, though Bacon cant help but feel that others watch from within the shadows. As he approaches the tree a loud sound, much like a groan, echoes through the forest. Upon the great tree a set of eyes form, then a mouth, then arms. Slowly the tree rises itself up from the ground so that it stands much like a person. 

 

"Mmmmm, whom does the Golden Stag bring to me." Once replied to the great tree continues "Hmmm, welcome Bacon. I am the heart and guardian of this forest and I would hear your tale." Bacon tells his story to the guardian, stopping only when the being asks questions. About halfway through the story two small creatures carry a small bowl forward. Inside a clear liquid. The great tree takes it from the shadowy figures then presents it to Bacon "Please, drink. For surely you are parched after your great journey." Bacon does so and continues. Once concluding the guardian nods, Bacon notes how strange such an action appears on a tree. Though surely and living tree is a strange site.

 

"You have been through much, and it seems you shall go through much more". He points at the tattoo upon the small figures chest. "Though it seems you have gained much" he frowns "and lost much too." The guardian takes a deep breath. "It grows late, though before you leave I would say this. Do not let the darkness of these days take root within you. For it is sure to lead to rot. Truly there is no victory when you must lose a part of yourself to achieve it." He waves a hand and the two creatures return, carrying between them a small sack. "You must return with a prize, so I offer you these." He draws forth a fruit from the bag, clutched between the tips of two great fingers. "I trust you have tasted nothing of its like before. And this" opening his palm a small seed sits. Bacon grabs it, it fits comfortably in his hand."If every you need my aid you need only plant the seed, and I shall aid you as best I can. I trust you will know when best to use it." Looking to the sky he ends with "You must now return to your friends Bacon, I hope to visit with you again." And with that the tree once again returned to being just that, a tree. The lights slowly dissipate and Bacon struggles to find the golden stag once again.

 

The stag returns Bacon to the campsite with speed. The others hand already returned. The stag does not exit the wood, but instead drops him off just out of sight of the camp. Bacon turns and thanks the golden stag before it leaps back into the protection of the great forest.

 

Walking up to the camp Bacon sees the men congratulating Kadra. A great boar now rests on a pit above the fire. Darkon prepares one of the largest fish Bacon had ever seen, Varren drinks heartily from a well filled mug, and Arthur turns the spit. Once within sight the men cheer and pour a drink for Bacon. He presents them with the fruits and they all look on in wonder. They quickly divide it out evenly, allowing Bacon the first taste. It's flavor deep and rich. Kadra laughs and says "Twas suppossed to be my year, though I do believe this has bested my boar." They all join in on the laughter as they share both food and drink. They share stories and tales for quite some time. Then Kadra stands, as if realizing he had forgotten something important. "Dinner, we are all going to be late for the dinner! Come Bacon, we must return you to the inn. I trust the others will be along shortly." And with that Bacon made his way back to town. Where he was to prepare for even more food and drink.

 

Bronan settled his business with the blacksmith in orderly fashion. The man was agreeable enough with his prices. Once it was clear their business was settled the dwarf turned to the troll "Come Rock, we've got ta finish this fore the night is done." The two quickly return to work.

 

Bronan makes his way to the market. The sun soon to set most are preparing to head in for the night. Some stalls stand unmanned, their owners already turned in. The brobarian checks those that remain open for anything of interest before a man approaches. He is of medium height and muscular build. Wearing dark green breeches and well worn boots. His white tunic rolled up at the sleeves. Dark bandages conceal nearly half the right side of his face, his left eye a dark green. His close cut black hair sticks out here and there from the bandage, and stubble lies on his jaw.

 

"From the look of you I would guess that you are Bronan. M'names Quanlan and I am here to fetch you. Though truly theres no need to rush." The two make their way to the inn at a modest pace. Both asking questions of the other. They make a brief stop at a tavern where Quanlan buys them a round. In the corner men cheer over two figures arm wrestling upon a table. A close fought battle, as one man nearly presses the others hand down the other with all his might struggles against all odds. Somehow finding the strength to turn it all around. Everyone cheers and offer the winner a round. He laughs and quickly empties his drink before looking around the room. 

 

"He's looking for another challenger, how about you give it a go? Free drink never hurt no one."

 

After the excitement settles from Bronan and the mans match they continue their trek to the inn. Kadra and Bacon meet them just a short distance from the door. Quanlan introduces himself to Bacon before a woman bursts forth from the door. "There you are, Quanlan thought you where suppossed to be some kind of tracker!? Theres not much time. Luckily the lady was here to choose your garments. Now get in here and get ready for dinner!" She stops herself before she turns "Names Sara this ones wife." she says pointing to Quanlan."Nice to meet you." she stops and sniffs the air. "Have you been drinking already!" she raises her hands into the air as if asking what shes supposed to do with him. Then quickly returns to the interior of the in.

 

"Good to know I'm not the only one." Kadra says with a grin.

[Terinatum]

Flo nods her thanks to Borga and heads up. She slips quietly into the room left of the staircase, leaving the one furthest away for Bacon, and the right one for Bronan. She wonders what the boys might have found and if they would have stories to share. She unbuckles her scabbard and pulls the bow from its resting spot, laying them down on the bedcovers. The quiver is a mess, she has never let it get like this before. But my run was quick once, I spotted the eagle. But it was not a proper excuse for sloppiness. She drags off her leather, leaving her breeches and tunic on. She flexes whatever muscles will easily move, but not many respond. Markets are nice, but she isn't use to being in them and not working. It felt tight and tense, being in the open. All the standing she ended up doing is now gifting her with a sore back.

 

Just before the door opens, Flo grasps an arrow. The light steps of a young elven girl, let Flo drop her arm casually to her side, twirling the arrow absently.

 

"Some clothes ma'am, your bath's ready, bottom of the stairs to the right."

 

"Thank you, Lass."

 

Flo hurries the rest of her disrobing and pulls out the other clothing she wants cleaned from her pack. The weapons were all out to be cared for, minus the sap. She takes the stairs back down and finds the pleasant little room with a window and the bath.

 

She sinks into the water, tossing the slippers and robe to the side with a smooth motion. The forest greens accompany her thoughts as she scrubs the creases and digs the scars clean. Her body is not soft, nor beautiful. Scars and malnutrition have left their marks upon her. The bird flutters off after a bit and Flo sinks low to take full advantage of the moist heat remaining. The water cools too quickly and Flo steps out, facing out the window, naked and clean for the first time in weeks. She drips dry, enjoying the small breeze that flits in and out of her charming window. The bird attempts to return, but Flo is too close now and it sits across the way, patiently waiting for the elf to leave. "It is yours again, dear."

 

Flo puts on the tunic and skirt, feeling chilly, but looser. She heads to the fireplace as soon as she sees it again. The place is much busier now and the chatter is light, mostly happy. How is it that a tavern is filled with more happy chatter than sour? She doesn't find much comfort close to the fire, but the warmth follows her to a small round table just a bit away. As she reaches it, the young elf is there with her wine. Flo waits without comment as the youngster slides the bottle gently onto the table from a very low vantage point. You will grow soon enough, young one. Flo reaches for a coin before realizing she has brought nothing down with her. She grins to the girl, promising a reward later, but it is never seen by the now rushing elf. Her tiny hands wrap tight and assuredly around a leg that has offered safety and comfort for years. A quick pat and the girl dashes again through a doorway as the woman of security and love strides toward Flo with an easy step.

 

"You must excuse her, she insists on helping. Though it has done little for her shyness. May I sit?" Flo nods and smiles. Once seated the stranger nods, "My names Claire, the young girl, Liz. My husband and I shall be joining you for tomorrow's festivities. Borga says your friends have yet to come in, I have sent my husband to find them."

 

So definitely a small town, Flo grins an understanding of the familiar close society ways of a small world. "I have no clue where they wandered off to, but likely they are being well behaved. I suspect there's plenty here to enjoy. Things we haven't seen in a long time are still here. Health, I think is what they called it." Flo does nothing to hide the envy, nor the curiosity that flames it. "Is this place so isolated or blessed that the ravages of all your neighbors has not found thee? Not that I wish it, of course, but it is astounding to me, after these years of wandering, this… This is nebulous when put up next to all I've seen.  How is this possible?"

 

The words rushed out and there was nowhere to go. Flo's curious nature may well be stepping too close to that which is not talked about with strangers, and more certainly, not in an open busy tavern room. There's nothing to be done so Flo offers Claire the glass of wine she just poured and waits for the proper etiquette to make itself known, either by Claire or perhaps her own mind, might catch up and save what little of her face is left. A man enters the tavern and after a quick moment, veers toward Flo's table. Thank the heavens! He is followed by others carrying large chests between them.

 

Claire stands, "Ah where has the time gone. I shall see you. I must find my husband and prepare for tonight." She quickly exits the tavern.

The first man bows to Flo. "Ma'am I have brought a vast selection of clothing for yourself and your friends for tonight." Those carrying the chests head towards the stairs and begin to lug them to Flo's room.

 

"I am thrilled at the prospect of outfits, but my friends have yet to return from their excursions."

 

He frowns. "Well, you know your friends well, perhaps you may choose for them? I am sorry, but there is much to do and we cannot tarry."

 

Why, yes, I do believe I do. Flo grins freely at the thought of picking out clothes for the boys. She follows after them happily. Clothing lays neatly everywhere. Everything from traditional elven attire to dresses made of elegant fabrics.

 

"Tonight is of course casual, may I suggest one of the following," he motions to the bed, where a dress is placed. It is rich in color and soft to the touch. Next to it is a pair of pants and a fine tunic, made of a similar fabric to the dress. "Though if the lady would prefer other options I have plenty here." And on cue, two attendants open two large chests, filled with even more clothing. "And of course I would ask that you select something for your companions as well."

 

"My pleasure and please send along our gratitude for this wonderful gesture." She doesn't mean to ignore their departure, but this is a sacred, and possibly never to happen again, moment. To be in the presence of such fine clothing. Mmmmm…. Delightful. She at first gently brushes the fabrics and traces the designs with her callused fingers. But soon, she is rummaging through it all looking for the perfect combinations to suit her and her boys - no, her Men. They haven't been young since the dragon died before them by their hands.

 

Bronan would do well with the thick cod piece waist belt she finds, but has to add to it for it seems too small for him to fit in. His 'hams' would show nicely from behind, yet he could freely squat every anvil in town unencumbered. But, sorry, Bro, some mystery will be needed to add to your glory. She finds a gold and green baroque patterned sheer cloth. She fashions a hide and leather shoulder piece for his right shoulder, with a hint of scales, and ties the sheer to it, front and back. She then attaches it to the front and back, but opposite side, of the waist belt. His chest and back will ripple under the sheer, but hide just enough to make men shiver and women melt. There is a pair of tie-up sandals that might actually be big enough and she seems pleased with the effect. Now the bare arm. She hadn't seen it lately, but she knew he still had it. She found in the decorative armor, a small ornate, memorial scabbard just the right size for Fights Like Beast's knife. A few leather lacings to tie his hair back however he wishes and …. Perfect!

 

Bacon was a harder decision for Flo. She remembers his flash and cheer back when she first watched him walk out toward the cave that fateful day. He was excited and showy. And when he saved her from the spider's fangs, she connected to him in a way like nothing she had known before. He will always be mine, no matter. But the years that have scarred her mostly on the outside, have touched him with pain on the inside. Where is he in all that history that he carries with him?

 

She goes to sit at the end of the bed, when she spots it. An old fashioned Entertainer's Outfit. Not much like the one Bacon was wearing on that first day, but it would do. She grabs another pair of strap sandals and several leather straps. The fine linen breeches were puffy, but not to an obnoxious degree. She weaves the leather straps into the sandals, effectively hiding the feet all together, but duplicating Bro's sandals. She would find a pair for herself she knew now. The green of the linen was darker than the sheer of Bronan's, but they complimented each other very well. The leggings will puff out some at the hip down to the knee and then will be held firm by the leather down to his feet.  The vest she finds is all cooper and a bit open with long thin ties that leave the chest exposed enough to hint at the man underneath. She smiles widely. Someone must have known what they looked like long before they got here. It matched her hair too well to have any other explanation. The cloth isn't shiny, but it glows in the light. She searches the limited jewelry and finds strings of beads and seashells. Two strings of shells for his neck and two with beads to attach to his each of his ears and then hang free down his chest, across the tattoos.

 

She looks back at the dress that was first pointed out to her. It is nice, but the one under it catches her attention even more. The gold and green swirls of color are lovely. She finds no other sandals so she wraps her feet with soft leather straps, winding them up her leg with plenty of space to appreciate her legs. All the way up she will wind them and tie them off, under the dress, around her waist. The dress will drop down over it, stopping somewhere between her knees and her hips. The dress has no back to speak of so she will also wind strings of shells into her hair and let it all fall freely to its full length.

 

This is Elven casual.

 

She heads back to the tavern floor and continues to nurse her wine until her Men get back. She isn't in the dress, not yet.

[Gainsdalf the Whey]

Bronan nods in understanding of the totem being a part of this place and drawing its power from it. It made sense, something that powerful to be portable would have cost more than he could dream to pay anyway. He is however quite pleased by the pendant, and takes it with thanks. He likes the dragon. Not for the beast itself, but for the memories of Harglenn, those from when they had first found it, that any speak of dragons stirs.

He nods along as he sees the vials, and they are something he wants, but with the expense of the amulet, he doesn’t think he can quite afford them and the cost of the enchantment that he wishes for his morningstar. Inquiring about that as well, he finds he is correct, though Kadra can do the enchantment as well over a few days. Bronan hates leaving the Morningstar behind, but agrees to it as he knows this sort of thing probably takes some time.

Bronan then heads out to find a blacksmith, more just to browse and take in the sounds of the forge than to actually buy anything with the paltry sum he has left. When Bronan sees the troll, his stride does indeed break and his hand go for his hammer, but it becomes quickly obvious that this troll is not the ordinary marauding type, apparently working hard at its craft. Bronan is not the bigoted type so commonly found among his people, especially after their experiences at Harglenn with the goblins. Still, he can’t help but stare at the site of a troll at a forge, and smiles when the dwarf calls him out for it. “I’m short on coin friend, so I’m just browsing today. I have a feeling though that there are some tasks afore my friends and I that might change that in the future. What can you do when it comes to javelins?”

After discussing with Haggar what options he has once he comes into a bit more coin, Bronan moves on to the market and wonders about, taking civilization in. He had been traveling rurally for quite some time now and it was the first time he had entered a heavily populated area in months. When Quanlan finds him, and Bronan sees his bandages, he believes it confirms his suspicions that there would be fighting soon enough. He goes on to ask Quanlan, a jolly enough fellow, about the bandages to see if he is right. He doesn’t bother to probe about tonight, as everyone has been slightly aloof about it, though in a friendly way, and he doesn’t want to bother himself with needless conversation.

In the tavern, Bronan gladly accepts the ale and quaffs half of it before continuing conversation with Quanlan, asking about the history of the town and commenting on its diverse inhabitants. He seeks to learn more out of curiosity, but doesn’t probe as the information isn’t something he actually needs. When conversation turns to the arm wrestling match, Bronan smiles, downs the rest of his drink, and begins walking over to the table. As he walks he stretches out his chest and back, showing off his extreme stature and wingspan in the process. Sitting down and holding up his hand, the man across from him seems to suspect he is beat before he even takes hold of the giant meat hook and feels the solidity of the Brobarian. Bronan lets him take the first go and his arm is moved 20 degrees or so from the start, as he underestimated the man’s strength. He grunts approvingly before flexing his arm and fit powerfully and changing the direction of the match. He quickly regains his ground and moves the man’s arm down to with a few inches of the tabletop. Once again the man’s strength heightens here, it was the strongest part of the movement for him apparently, but it only serves to slow his descent to the table, not stop it. Bronan stands and holds his arms out wide in victory, taking a bow to both sides, before chuckling and holding out his hand to his opponent to shake over a good match. He takes the rewarded ale and drinks it down quickly as he sees Quanlan beginning to eye the door, indicating that they should get going.

“My fault entirely mam.” He says to Claire when she asks if they’ve been drinking. “I insisted on stopping to compete in a friendly test of strength, and Quanlan had to veritably haul me away from staying longer.” (unskilled bluff check, roll=15, charisma=15.)

As she turns to continue speaking to her husband, Bronan finds Flo inside sipping on wine. He proceeds to plop himself down next to her and take a swig of the wine straight from the bottle. Before he can even get a word out in greeting, Claire is back on them, ushering them up the steps to prepare for dinner.

He heads upstairs as instructed and finds the outfit that he is told Flo picked outlaid out in his room. He quickly dons the cod piece, but holds the shoulder piece and sheer cloth up confused. He figures the shoulder piece out quickly enough, then the sash from that. He smiles at the site of the sheath, knowing exactly what it was for. As he straps it on, he reflects on how well Flo always amazes him with how well she knows him. She knew he wouldn’t want to be without a weapon at any time, and would have insisted on bringing his hammer and being uncivilized, so she had provided the perfect solution. He then takes FLB’s knife from his boot and sheaths it in the leather before finishing off Flo’s look by putting the sandals on and lacing them up his calves, then pulling back his hair, letting only a few tendrils fall down onto his face. He then hangs the hammer from his belt to bring along with him, but will discard it at the entry of the castle instead of lugging it about all night. He keeps the new amulet on to show that he likes it since he knows he’ll see Kadra again tonight. He looks himself over and nods approvingly before heading back downstairs to see if that wine was still on the table...

[DarK_RaideR]

"Indeed, for tonight we hunt the greatest game their is. You see not far from the boundaries of the forest their is a village. And every year they offer a virgin girl to the forest. He who catches her may claim the prize!" He stands then laughs as he sees the look on Bacon's face "I jest of course. We hunt normal game here friend. Though this is a brotherhood, a night for men to enjoy themselves."

 

The sorcerer smiles. "I would have almost believed you, if not for the virgin girl. That was taking it too far, gave you away." Once the group joins together in song, Bacon finds himself chiming in with his voice. The combined tones stirred something very primal inside him and once Arthur compliments him, he tries to act polite and hide the fact that he has no idea where all that came from or why he did it in the first place. However, he does feel a certain weight lifted off his chest and a certain sense of camaraderie created with the hunting group.

 

Deeper inside the woods, Bacon and Kadra come across the majestic golden stag. “You must go to him Bacon, I believe he wishes to show you something" the shaman suggests, as Bacon finds himself thinking “Yup, I tend to attract all kinds of golden animals lately”. When he touches the animal’s fur however, the softness makes something inside him melt. Is it because it’s a reminder of when they first ran into one of the golden eagle’s feathers? Or maybe the feeling of the fur reminds the gnome of the beauty that still exists hidden. Perhaps this is another way for the golden eagle to appear, in a form more fitting to the environment. Whatever the case, Bacon mounts the animal with respect and lets it carry him where it may.

 

Meeting the great tree, Bacon is amazed. So the stag is not the ruler of this forest, but merely a servant to this greater power. Such creatures have been known under various names, but the gnome is aware that they are ancient and wise. The little gnome feels overwhelmed and full of respect towards the massive being, understanding that such an encounter is beyond rare, an honour that even druids can only aspire to receive. He is obliged to tell everything of his adventures to the elder guardian of the forest. How he met the others outside Harglen. The encounter with the civilized gnomes. The run in with the spiders. The crustacean. The fall of the dragon and the heroic sacrifice of Fights-like-beast. The rotten growth of Harglenn in the wake of their feat. How it all changed. How they were summoned elsewhere, only to embark on a mystical journey he barely understood. How they faced the undead and the man who identified himself as Rurik. His own adventures since then. Their arrival upon this new town, how they were received and what made an impression on him. Even the little glyph that Kadra had on the doorframe of his house, as he displays the badger amulet he got from the shaman. The treant’s final words stir something inside him, a warm and electrifying sensation that only the magic coursing through his veins has caused him before. Bacon accepts the gifts with gratitude and a slight bow, before allowing the golden stag to lead him back.

 

Bacon joins the men and presents the fruit given to him. “Tis not game, so I am not sure it still counts for the hunt, but a mighty prize it makes nonetheless” he says as everybody tries some. "Twas suppossed to be my year, though I do believe this has bested my boar" Kadra laughs. “I had no intention of ruining your celebration, my friend” Bacon responds in apology. “Please accept this” he says, passing his spear to the shaman. “This shortspear was meant for someone my size, but I am certain one such as you can easily hurl it as a javelin. Take it, as you wield the weapons of your other friends, even though I plan to stay alive for a bit longer” he muses to ease the cheesy dramatic tone of his speech. “May it bring you luck,” the gnome continues after his audience is done laughing “and may it silence your dear wife’s criticism of your hunting skills” he pauses for another round of laughter. “This is the weapon I wielded when I fought the great dragon of Harglenn, alongside Bronan and Flo. It is the most precious gift I can come up with. I hope you carve its handle with images of that battle and anything else you find appropriate. You have the skills to do so, for I have seen them in the carvings at your hut.” Kadra accepts the spear and it all leads to the first round of drinking in celebration. The drink is strong (Fortitude 19) and the stories captivating, until Kadra remembers the dinner. “What, more food and drink?” Bacon remarks in surprise. Whoever planned all this? So much partying, what was the deal with this place?

 

Once they are back in town, Bacon is ushered into a place where he meets Bronan once more, and a lady wondering if they’d been drinking. “My fault entirely mam.” Bronan replies. “I insisted on stopping to compete in a friendly test of strength, and Quanlan had to veritably haul me away from staying longer.” Bacon takes the cue and continues “Indeed, hanging around alcohol tends to leave a certain smell on someone, usually giving of the impression of having drunk way more than he could possibly handle. Everything is just fine” (Bluff 20)

 

Led to the dressing room, Bacon surveys the outfit Flo has chosen for him. The clothes are fine, but he barely hides his reaction upon viewing the jewelry. Not that he has issues wearing any, but it all feels to… sea related for his taste. However, he would hate to make Flo feel bad, because despite being a wonderful person overall, she obviously has put a lot of thought and care into picking the clothes. After all, he doesn’t think he could do any better if he was in her position. The great tree’s words come back to him and he lets his facial muscles relax into a smile, partly assisted by the strong spirits he’s already consumed. Whatever, this was supposed to be a happy occasion. Enjoy it and don’t be miserable, he thinks to himself as he puts on the jewelry to finish the outfit.

[cn3wton]

Sara smirks just a bit at Flo's statement. "The people here have Hon'ga to thank, though no one is unscarred by the world around us." She passes at the offer of wine, allowing Flo to drink alone. She then takes her leave.

 

The man bows and assures Flo that he will pass along her gratitude.

 

Haggar nods to Bronan and smiles "We craft javelins so fine even a child could hit his mark! In fact..." He seems to search about the place, moving aside wares such as swords and spears until he finds what he is looking for. He pulls forth a simple javelin and presents it to Bronan. "Perhaps you'd like to try your hand at it?" He motions to a small target at the back. Bronan lets loose the javelin and it finds its mark with ease. It flies true and with impressive ease. Truly worth the money if he can muster the coin.

 

At the mention of his bandages Quanlan's right hand reaches up and touches them of its own will. He smiles, a sad sort of smile. "We all have our scars friend, and mine I shall carry the remainder of my days. These bandages cover old wounds." Quanlan quickly moves on from the subject. When asked about the town he nods "Indeed a town such as this many have not seen before. It is not my place to go into to much detail, though know that this has existed in some form for quite some time. This place serves many a purpose, one of which is a reprieve from the world around us."

 

Kadra accepts the spear from Bacon approvingly. The rest of the group approves, they seem to agree that accepting the gnome into their brotherhood had been a good idea after all. "I know not if this will quite the wife, but know that I will keep it in a place of honor, and I am pleased to call you friend."

 

Sara eyes the men suspiciously though somehow Bacon and Bronan seem to pass her scrutiny. As they enter the inn Bacon missteps only once, surely due to the unevenness of the ground.

 

Once prepared they gather once again before the bar. Borga motions them over "Everyone has already set out, they will meet you at the castle." And with that she returns to her duties. 

 

The trek to the castle is relatively short. Despite the mens antics they arrive quite near to the time they where expected. As they approach the great dark walls they observe that it is not stone that they are made of. But it appears to be some kind of wood. Bacon can't help but feel as though it is shifting and moving, as if it is a living thing. Outside of the large open gate stands the first sign of any guards. Two men stand in dark green leathers with gold and black embroidery. They wear helmets that cover their faces, with only slits for their eyes. They motion the group inside.

 

Once inside the ramparts they walk just a short distance to the main building. Once again they are greeted by two guards flanking a large wooden doors. Between them the man from earlier stands. The great arch holds to great wooden carvings of what appear to be men holding rather large weaponry. Upon seeing the group the man bows and the grand door swings open. Revealing a great hall. Inside numerous tables and chairs made of the same dark wood stand lined along the walls. Great columns hold up the high ceiling, each column flanked by pairs of large wooden statues holding various weapons.

 

At the end of the hall Hon'ga stands, dressed in dark green with golden trim. He approaches the group with a smile as the door closes behind them. "Welcome friends, just in time for the festivities to begin." He motions to the head table, where ten chairs are placed. Four on each larger side and one at each end. "Sit where you would like we shall begin shortly. 

 

After taking their seats the doors swing wide again. Dozens of people enter. Familiar faces such as Kadra, Orithia, and Sara among them. Claire enters from a side room flanked by the ever present female warriors, who stop at the doorway and take up positions on each side of the entrance. She wears a long dress the same dark green as Hon'ga. It is cut low in the back, revaling much of her upper back. At the head table Sits the adventurers, along with Hon'ga, Claire, Sara, Quanlan, Arthur, Kadra, and Orithia.

 

The room rapidly fills, Varren and Darkon take their seats at a nearby table. Haggar and Rock move to the end nearest the door. Rock sits cross legged at the end of the table without the help of a chair due to his side.

 

Once everyone was seated men and woman dressed in garb mirroring that of the guards begin to serve food and drink. Everything one could think of is served from meats to drink. After a time and the food begins to settle groups begin to form. Some draw forth instruments that they brought with them, and Varren begins to sing. Dancing erupts in the center. The troll draws out a large chess board and begins taking on challengers. Those who had served the food and drink join in as well.

 

Claire turns to Bacon when everyone elses attention seems divided "I would speak with you privately if you do not mind." He agrees and follows the woman out through the arch guarded by what appear to be her own personal bodyguards. They move to follow but she waves them off. They hesitate but nod and return to their posts. Bacon follows the woman to the final door at the end of the hall. She pulls it open and they enter a small room. Filled with books and lit by candles. Paintings line the wall and some lie wrapped on the floor. A desk covered in papers sits in one corner, a small fireplace sits on the far end of the room. Small but comfortable chairs sit in the middle of the room. She turns and motions for Bacon to sit. 

 

Her expression shocks Bacon. She seems uneasy, not something he expected from the woman. She does not sit and instead moves to the fireplace. "I am certain this all must seem very strange to you. Though I must ask you something." She pauses as if contemplating the words carefully. "Do you believe in rebirth, reincarnation, any of that. You must after everything you have learned." She looks to him as if she dearly hoped he did. "You see, my husband and I. Well, beings like us we are often feared or viewed with a sense of awe from a great distance. It is not often that we grow close with others. Of cousre my husband is quite the exception people seem to love him." She turns to the fireplace, as if to attempt to conceal her emotions. "Though I have always struggled with this. But you, well the past you, always treated me like a friend. In fact you, well, your past self sat in that very chair and pronounced that there was no such thing as reincarnation. Yet here you sit, while slightly different I cannot help but feel as if you are the same." She turns again to face Bacon. "In the battle that is to come your heart is what I need. You may not have the physical strength like the barbarian does, but you have always been willing to see what others would not. And you where one of few who accepted me as I am."

 

With her final word her hair begins to turn white, from her naked back wings begin to spread. Her eyes begin to glow deeply. An overwhelming wave of emotion threatens to envelop Bacon as he witnesses her true form.

 

"Tell me, is this still true?"

 

Meanwhile Bronan and Flo move about the room enjoying the festivities. Hon'ga aproaches Bronan and motions that he should follow. Together they exit the grand hall and walk for a time. Most is passed in silence until they find themselves in an elaborate garden. "You have grown quite strong in these past years Bronan. I can only hope that it has been enough." They continue their walk to a large building at the end of the garden. Hon'ga pushes aside the door and allows the barbarian to enter.

 

Inside the walls are lined with weaponry. A large forge sits at the far end. "A hobby of mine, when one lives as long as I you pick up a few things." Bronan cannot help but feel like he has seen the craftsmanship before as he walks the impressive displays of arms. "Though it is not your physical strength that has me concerned. There may come a time when you and your friends have hard decisions to make. I just hope that you can shoulder the burden." Hong'a lets the statement sink in as he looks to Bronan. He nods after a short time, as if satisfied with what he has seen. "Come that is enough for now, we must return to the hall. For surely we are missed!"

 

Flo quickly notices the absence of her friends. Though surely nothing ill has befallen them here in this place? She senses someone at her side and turns to see Orithia at her side with hand outstretched. "I do not believe me have met, I am Orithia. I had the pleasure of meeting your companions at my home earlier today. I must say they clean up quite nicely. I am certain that is of your doing." She motions to the table and they each sit, she pours them each a bit of drink which they quickly consume.

 

"You must have so many questions. I assure you most will be answered tomorrow, though I am certain you will have many new ones by the end of the day!" She laughs. She then points the the two female figures standing guard. "They idolize her, swear their lives to her. Though certainly she needs no protecting!" She shakes her head, as if realizing that she may have let something slip. "Ah it seems I am rambling. I must find my husband." She quickly stands and as politely as she can leaves Flo's company.