Aveas - The Arrow's Flight - Scatha and Fin - Chyril 25th ET

[Brytan]

Centaur Meadow
Chyril 25th - Early eventingtide

The journey had been a good one. Nice even considering the good weather they had during the day. Sun radiating it's heat over the island, the trees of the great forests sheltering them in a blanket of shadow and moisture. Made the company sweat even though there was not much to do besides walk.

The centaur envoy had led them all out of Seinor. Scatha, Finodborn, Deirdre, Iolon and Kelon and the dark adhiel Ko'sstin followed through the woodland of Pan. There seemed to be considerable worry about fae interference and the centaurs made it good practice to stop every now and again to pay homage to the woodland spirits that dwelled within the dense woods. A stack of rocks, a circle of mushrooms or an arched tree would make them halt and utter words or draw lines in the sand, sprinkle water or deliver an offering of food depending on which type of fae they were catering to.

Iolon and Kelon eyed the rituals with amazement. Deirdre with something edging towards professional curiosity. Ko'sstin just snorted at it.

Whimsy had a good laugh.

The little fae had left them soon after they were led into the forest and returned after several marks of walking. There was no sign that anyone could see her as she flittered into vision right over Scatha's head at some point as they were crossing a stream running through the woods after a rather lengty offering ceremony to Ogwal, spirit of the rivers.

"Everyone knows you're coming Finodborn." Was all she said. And after that she made it practice to mess with the centaurs a little every time they stopped, making some leaves move or flittering around a tree doing some odd patterns. She was having a great time.

After a while they left the woodland and crossed into the meadow of the centaurs. No other centaurs were in sight as they crossed the open stretch of land. A deep and large lake spread out before them, around which their trek led them to the north and west. When asked about it the centaurs would reply that the lake was where Kel'thwa was once taken from and that they had thought it to return to them there again.

Finodborn attempted to glean more information from the centaurs about the arrow head he had received and the words he had heard a long time ago. As they walked the emmisary pondered his questions. It wasn't until they entered the meadow that he came with a response, heard only by Finodborn as he was taken apart a bit from the others.

"We were told that the dragonglass was given to someone who heard the One's word. That you now carry it on this quest is a sign that must be headed. For a while the tall centaur did not speak, as if contemplating if he should say more. Eventually he only said one other thing; "Kel'thwa is where the glass came from."

Eveningtide fell upon them as they reached the border of the meadow on the other side of the lake. They had tracked for a good two tides as the centaurs stopped.

"Your journey leads you west. before you lie the forests which are the hunting grounds of the Shifters. In those grounds there is a cave. In that cave you will find passage to the isle."

"Rubbish!" Ko'sstin replied. "The isle is to the north, how can we go west when the mountains of it can be seen right over there!?" he pointed over the trees where the spine that rose around the isle was visible over the treetops.

"You can go north. You can go west. Two among you hold keys to either passage. Both with be hard traveled, but the northern one means less to the Shifter."

The centaurs turned around and made ready to leave the group. "This is as far as we will guide you. You can make camp here or travel onward. You can reach the passages from here within a tide if you walk fast and do not stray. It is your descision and we wish you well. May the One smile down upon your path."

[wyrdgirluk]

Scatha enjoyed walking; it stretched the legs, and fresh air always seemed to blow away any fuzziness that might have settled in her head, a bit like a summer breeze blowing away dandelion seeds. Scatha's head seemed to be often filled with dandelion seeds, which is why she preferred being outside; things seemed simpler that way.

Besides, there were always new people to meet, and new things to see. Scatha knew that the fae existed - there were all sorts of tales of pixies and brownies and bogles that she'd heard in Dort - but Whimsy was the first actual fae she'd met, and she took every opportunity to observe the tiny creature. The rituals of the centaurs when dealing with the fae were also of great interest, and Scatha took mental notes of what they did, and where, and why. Most of the time it seemed as if the centaurs were apologising for intruding, which seemed only like good manners; Scatha couldn't even begin to imagine the reaction if a herd of centaurs had intruded into her aunt Etain's front room without saying sorry, or (worse still) without wiping their hooves. And when there was nothing to see, or talk about, Scatha simply walked and soaked up the sunshine and the trees.

It was nearly evening tide when the centaurs drew to a halt, and announced that they were leaving. Not only that, but they gave some very imprecise directions on where to go next. North or west? Scatha wondered whether to suggest that they go north-west as a compromise, and then thought better of it. As it was, the directions from the centaurs didn't seem to help at all.

"If we go west, the centaurs say we will pass through the hunting grounds of these Shifters," she mused out loud. "It is evening tide, and will soon be dark, and we do not know exactly where we are going. I suggest we make camp, and wait for the morning and daylight before looking for these passages." She looked at her companions; "What do you think?"

[Finodborn]

In the generous beauty of the landscapes they crossed, Finodborn forgot about the war every now and then. At the same time, these pure and untainted parts strengthened his resolution.
Whimsy with her pranks fitted in just perfectly for him. It served to attenuate his fright for both the dark adhiel and the centaurs. He was very glad, though, that her influence was clear for him; otherwise the eerie sounds and inexplicable movements of things would have probably scared the hell out of him.

As for the centaurs, they seemed to speak only in riddles. He wondered whether it was a matter of language, and considered for a while to communicate mentally with them. In the end, he didn't, since he didn't know how they'd react. With persistence, he did get some information out of them that seemed straight-forward.

Do they now? he replied to Whimsy. And do they consider it a good or a bad thing? Apart from Whimsy, he had seen little of the fae-folk lately, and he wasn't entirely sure how their rummy society looked back on the deal he had struck with them. Of course, I have nothing to worry about. You'd rather die than see me become the victim of a fae harlequinade, wouldn't you? And otherwise I would retaliate by extensive tickling, take heed!.

"I think making camp is a good idea." The centaurs preferred the western route, apparently, but they were leaving. As such, Finodborn was inclined to support the other option. If possible, he would like to stay on the good side of the dark adhiel. "That gives us the time to discuss it at ease." Maybe he could even get Scatha to dance a bit if he played a tune or two.

He was left dumbfounded by the farewell of the centaurs. Did they actually wish them the One's blessing? He truly hoped this was another semantic issue; if the preachers of the Empty One had even started to corrupt the centaurs, the situation was indeed dire. "Thank you very much for travelling with us, and may Pan protect you all," he replied with a taxing look.

[Brytan]

The centaurs nodded at the group. "Pan's blessing guide you." They seemed to not take note of Finodborn's gaze, or they just did not care as they turned from wence they'd come. Ko''sstin had his own thoughts on the matter.

"Bah, filthy half breeds. Preaching Pan's law as if he's the only deity of import. Leaving us on the brink of their lands. Maybe I should..."

"...get some sleep aswell?" Deirdre resumed. "We've all had a long walk today and I think we can all use the rest. Wouldn't want to get lost in those woods without the aquity of a waking mind." Her tone was friendly and gentle, yet her words implied otherwise.

"We brought some food to cook, let's set up a fire then and we'll make you dad's famous rabbit stew!" The twins had indeed taken the odd chance while walking to shoot a rabbit here and there, trodding off into the woodland with the centaur's permission. At one point they'd stayed away for nearly a mark, finding their way back to the group at a point further along. Tracking was not something they worried about. Nor was the making of fire or cooking apparently, as soon the smells of meat and broth rose from a small cauldron one of them, Iolon, had been lugging around.

"Can't go to sleep on an empty stomach dad always says."

Whimsy had skittered off somewhere again. She'd laughed loudly at Finodborn's promise of tickledeath. "I might hold you to that you know." She had said coyly before flitting off.

Ko'sstin had settled down and sat by the fire with a grim look in the direction of where the centaurs had trodded off to. Deirdre sat opposite him, mostly observing the others as they worked. Her walking stick, a piece of apparently still living wood, lay beside her. The twins were making dinner.

[wyrdgirluk]

There didn't seem to be a great deal to do; the twins had sorted out a fire and supper (although Scatha was extremely dubious as to whether one rabbit would feed so many people, unless the rabbit was a cousin of the monstrous weasel that reputedly terrorised the village of Kittywich each full moon, and which dragged the local drunkards through fields and hedges. At least, that was the excuse given by many of the men of the village to explain their condition to their irate wives the next morning). And with the immediate cncerns of warmth and food addressed, she sat down next to Ko'sstin.

"Y'know, I have been thinking about what the centaurs said," she mused out loud. "They said two of us hold keys to the passages, and that the northern one means less to the Shifter. Does anyone know what the the keys look like?" Scatha was quite sure that she had nothing in her pockets that would open any door - her leather trousers were far too tight for that - and glanced towards Deirdre, Fin and Ko'sstin...

[Finodborn]

"I wouldn't know," he answered Scatha as he took a seat on Ko'sstin's other side and after translating her question. Finodborn wasn't a big fan of meat, having grown up as a fisherman's son. He longed for his mother's crispy fried cod, but with a shred of pain he reminded himself that he would never get another taste of her cooking. But the day's trek had made him hungry, so even he was looking forward to the stew.

"Maybe they weren't referring to a physical key," he pondered. "Perhaps they meant your capabilities as a Shaper or something," he suggested to Deirdre.

He wondered what Gulanadur music sounded like. Somewhere down the line, they had communal ancestors, so there might be similarities between their traditional styles and that of his own people. He refrained from asking Ko'sstin now, since he expected their somewhat grumpy companion to be concerned about attracting unwelcome company by making music here.

[Brytan]

"Perhaps." Deirdre replied. "I was considering it aswell, but somehow I am not certain about it yet. They spoke of a cave, and those are not really my area of expertise. Perhaps they referred to Ko'sstin?" She turned at the dark adhiel who glared back at her and then cast his gaze into the fire.

"Oh, sure, when digging into the mud is involved let's look at the dark adhiel. Do I look like a fat dwarf to you? For all I know this key is something you people have and "forgot" to tell the rest of us about? What the Nether were you whispering about with the half breeds earlier, to name but one thing?" This question was obviously directed at Finodborn.

The twins were still working on their stew. Clearly they had more than one rabbit to add to the broth and the food started to smell quite good to the traveling party. Even Ko'sstin cast a hungry glance at the two who were seemingly trying very hard to keep out of the conversation for the time being.

[wyrdgirluk]

"Oh, I don't think you look like a fat dwarf," Scatha said pleasantly. "They're much hairier and shorter than you." She was far too polite to comment on whether Ko'sstin was fat or not, but couldn't help sneaking a glance at his gut to see if he was. "We could turn out our pockets to see if anyone has got a key and forgotten about it, just to make sure, if you think that would help." Scatha was quite sure that was nothing in her pockets - her leather trousers were far too tight for that - but she did pull her knapsack to her, opened it and dug inside, before finally extracting the small, pure white crystal that the Kona had given her in Trothgard. "That's the only thing I can think of that might help. I don't know what it is, exactly; I can't imagine it would open any locks though." She looked expectantly at the rest of them; "Go on. Your turn."

[Finodborn]

Finodborn was once again so glad to have Scatha with him. Her words were always so disarming! He wished he would one day be able to go about things in the same carefree manner.

As she digged up the crystal, he felt dizzy for a flicker, and shook his head to get rid of the sensation. He had seen this object before, and remembered some spectacular if unsettling occurrences related to it. He had forgotten all about it, and was startled to realize he knew little or nothing about its function or how and why Scatha carried it around.

He turned to his dark brother. "It is no secret. You could have asked me tides ago, in stead of building up this irritation." He took the arrow head from his pocket and handed it to him. "This object was given me by a centaur elder. It is connected to a spiritual quest of my own. As it is a quest for the Horned One, I suppose you're not too keen on hearing more."

[Brytan]

Ko'sstin didn't directly reply as the others turned to the exchange between Scatha, Fin and the dark adhiel around the fire. The twins were scooping stew into bowls they had brought and now dug up from the depths of their packs. Deirdre watched the dark adhiel carefully as he reached into his own pack and pulled out a small glass vial. It was no larger than two index fingers in both length and width, sealed with a wax stopper and wrapped in a leather pouch which appeared to be custom made to hold it. Only the top was sticking out, something dark and liquid-like swirling around within.

"I don't care about your gods or whatever quest they might have sent you on. If it gets us onto the isle, then fine. That will make it easier for me to get rid of this thing."

He held it with disdain on his face and stared at it for several flickers before returning it to his pack. "I was told to bring it with me and give it to the shifters or whatever the half breeds call them."

Deirdre seemed appaled. "There's something in there unlike anything I've ever sensed." Finodborn could feel it too. A cold emanated from the vial, a cold that reminded him of death. The time when a man's final breath is released into the air and his body turns cold, that kind of cold. "And you brought that with you?!" The Shaper seemed almost angry.

"Hey sweetheart, don't look at me. There's plenty more where these came from and no one wants them there anymore than you or me. But they come from the island and if I can do anything to stop it, I will."

"Stew anyone?" Iolon carefully interjected.

[wyrdgirluk]

Scatha peered at the bottle that Ko'sstin was holding up; "Is it Ferret's Breath ale?" The beverage was legendary in Dort for the peculiar effect it had on people who drank it, akin to being hit around the head with a sock of warm custard. Scatha wasn't sure that this would provide much of deterrent to shifters of any sort, which did lead her neatly on to her next question,

"You know they call them shifters," she mused out loud. "What do they actually shift into? Animals, or things?" If was things then it would be extremely useful; Scatha was rather hopeful that they might catch one that could turn itself into a pillow, or a nice picture.

These thoughts - intriguing as they were - were abruptly pushed to one side by the mention of food. "Yes please", Scatha said instantly, and scrambled to her feet to see what Iolon had cooked...

[Finodborn]

Finodborn eyed the little vial suspiciously. Its very sight made his senses tingle in a most unpleasant way.
"What do they do if they're not trapped in a bottle?" he asked, almost whispering, fascinated by the cloak of chill draped around the thing. It reminded him of his recent training with the more savage fae. He was tempted to approach rather than to be repelled by the aura of danger. "Can I hold it?"

His mind was too occupied to even notice Iolon's well-meant attempt to bring peace, or Scatha's mirthful remarks. Perhaps there was no need for him to learn how to kill Oneists. If these things were truly so abundantly available, and more importantly, threatening enough to drive the dark adhiel out of their underground homes... But then, of course, he would need to find a way to get them from one place to the other.

[Brytan]

Ko'sstin seemed reluctant at first, but then he handed over the vial to Finodborn.

"Glad to be rid of the damn thing really, gives me the creeps." He shuddered in a somewhat involuntary fashion. "So, how about some of that food then kid? I'm starving over here." He took a bowl of stew from Iolon and ate a few bites before turning back to Finodborn, eyeing the vial warily. Deirdre was doing pretty much the same thing.

"What they do?" The dark adhiel asked when his mouth was empty once more. "They kill...The bastards. Come in swarms they did, through the tunnels." He chewed down a few more bites. "Hundreds, thousands washed over the lower levels and took out a good number of us before we figured out that light, sunlight mind you, kills them. Nasty critters in the darkness though, like water or vapor they wash over you and sprout teeth and fangs in the most ungodly places to gnaw you down. Gave me this..." He pulled up the left sleeve of his tunic and showed a very deep and rather nasty gash that was completely healed and quite old already.

As Ko'sstin spoke the others listened in awe to the first so solitary dark adhiel. He spoke with vigor and anger in his voice and eyed the vial more than once with a deep seeded hatred in his eyes. Finodborn held the vial and felt the cold permeate from it, reaching out to him, groping at him. As the sun set further the feeling seemed to intensify and he could almost see visible shreds of dark mist clawing at him from inside the confines of the dark glass.

[wyrdgirluk]

There was a wooden spoon in Scatha's backpack, slighty grubby and worn smooth from use. She took the offered bowl of stew with a smile, sat back down next to backpack, rummaged for the spoon and then scooped the first mouthful in. It was warm, and tasted good, and Scatha had been walking all day and was hungry.

"Gmmdd," she murmured appreciatively though a mouthful of stew. Maybe needs a few more herbs. Rabbit didn't taste of much, and needed something to bring out what flavour there was. Still, it was a good effort, and as she hadn't caught the rabbit or cooked the stew, she was in no position to criticise. Scatha took another mouthful, chewed on on the meat in a contemplatative manner, and listened to Ko'sstin.

"Sunlight... sunlight kills them. Like vampires. Or trolls. Though sunlight turns trolls to stone." Scatha had never met of vampires, but she'd heard stories about them. "What about other things? Does steel cut them or arrow pierce them? What happens when they die? Do they vanish, or turn to dust, or just lie there and bleed?" Scatha took another mouthful and chewed, mulling the questions whirling in her head. "What about magical light? The crystal I have, that gives off light; pure, white light. Would that harm them?"

[Finodborn]

Hearing that this creature was mostly suited to live in an underground habitat was strangely disappointing to Finodborn. They seemed of little use for the goals of the Thorns, then. On the other hand, it is always a comforting thought that you're safe from all-consuming black worms. At least during daytime.

He tried to push away the chilly tentacles. He exhaled slowly and deeply, as if the warmth of his breath would enchant the little hell fingers, at the same time trying to press it mentally. He attempted to instill it with solid, square chords, void of all creepy, if somehow elegant, slitheriness.

As it got more close than he really liked, he decided to end the experiment. "Do you want to see it?" he asked Deirdre. Only then did he notice the munching Scatha, and snap out of his entrancement.

"Hey Scath! How's the stew?" he spoke somewhat too enthusiastically. He wanted to keep his own darkness stowed far away when around her. He helped himself to some of the rabbit, complimented the cooking hunters before he had really thoroughly tasted, and tried to move back to the comfortable, well-known background of the conversation.

[Brytan]

Ko'sstin turned to Scatha as she spoke in between bites. "I've never seen one die. They're like shadows. When light hits them they disappear. Only reason we think light kills them is because of the screams they let out when they're hit by it. Give me it a flicker..."

Finodborn was rather unsuccessful in his attempts to push the tendrils away, yet they did not seem to harm him, rather pass through him, giving him the shivers.

The dark adhiel waited a flicker for Finodborn to return the vial to him, interjecting his offer to Deirdre who didn't seem too thrilled to take the vial anyway. The dark adhiel looked at the sun which cast it's final beams over the treetops and unwrapped some of the leather straps which secured the vial in it's cocoon of cloth, exposing a small fragment of the glass to the open air.

"Watch this..."

With a wry grin on his face, Ko'sstin held up the vial into a ray of dissapating sunlight, which caused whatever was in the vial to let out a death defying shriek into the eveningtide sky.

IIIEIEIIEIIEEEEEEEEEEEIAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIII!!!!

Then he quickly took it out and wrapped it back up. Finodborn could tell the dark presence in the vial was still present within, yet weakened and no longer lashing out.

"That should keep the bastard quiet during the gravetide." He "gently" shoved the vial back into his pack.

"I'll have some more of that grub you got there kid..."

Iolon and Kelon just sat there, picking their jaws up from the floor quickly as they woke up to the reality of the dusk setting on their group and the vial with the dark creature in the backpack of the dark adhiel that accompanied them.

From the bushes, a wolf was watching the group carefully...

[wyrdgirluk]

Scatha's eyes widened as she heard the unearthly shriek that the vial emitted; What in the name of the Mother is in there? The thought of having to deal with a horde of similiar beings was sobering to say the least. She shook her head, and gazed away from Ko'sstin, lost in her thoughts.

It was then that she saw the wolf, partially concealed in nearby bushes. Scatha didn't mind wolves; if anything, she rather admired them for their tenacity and intelligence. Back in Dort, wolves and humans tended to leave each other alone, with the exception of the spring and calving time. The wolves had their own cubs to feed, and deemed that taking a new born calf was the easiest way of doing it rather than bringing down a deer. However, the sharp horns and protective nature of Dortish cattle made that a frequently lethal exercise for the wolves, and the slings and bows of attendent herdmen was usually sufficent to keep them at bay. Still, each yahren the wolves took some newborn, or took down the old and sick members of the herd. Scatha and her brothers didn't hold it against them, though they did their best to stop it happening; it was just the way of the Mother.

Scatha grinned at the wolf, then fished in her bowl for any remnants of rabbit. There was one small, lean strip of meat left, and she scooped it out and tossed it in the direction of the wolf, hopeful that it might come out a little further so that she could see it better...

[Finodborn]

OOC: Sorry for the unannounced absence.

IC:

Where the contact with the black worm was cold, the shriek was chilling. Finodborn lost the remainder of his appetite and wondered where in the Hooved one's name this creature came from. Still, it would be interesting to see what happened if it were exposed to unnatural light, such as that from Scatha's crystal.

Naturally, he hadn't seen any wolf. He saw Scatha throwing a meaty festoon in a seemingly random direction, and it took him about two flickers to mark this behavior as something peculiar for Scatha, and look in the direction of the wolf.

It scared him witless.

[Brytan]

More eyes followed Scatha's movement towards the wolf. It looked back at the group, eyes tracking their movements as the strip of meat landed somewhat out of it's reach. It moved towards it slowly, warily. To finally clasp it's jaws around it and swallow it swiftly. The animal was a silvery color gray. Not particularly large but muscular beneath a thin layer of fur. Not indigenous to the isle, someone with knowledge of Tazlurian wildlife might wonder who it got there.

To Scatha it was merely a wolf. A wolf that seemed to nod it's head at her before walking back into the underbrush.

"I think we should sleep." Deirdre uttered as the animal vanished into the progressing darkness. "We probably have a long walk ahead of us tomorrow and I for one want to be well rested." Iolon and Kelon seemed to agree. "We can keep watch for a few marks." Ko'sstin and Deirdre didn't seem inclined to disagree.

OOC: We can fudge the night and the following day and move to the synch if you guys want. We'll presume the trek through the jungle was harsh and continue the thread on the 27th? Feel free to post closing arguments and we'll move on to a new thread on the synch at your convenience.

PS: Good to have you back Fin.

[wyrdgirluk]

OOC: sounds good to me

Scatha grinned as the wolf snatched up the scrap of meat had thrown, and then watched it before it vanished into the twilight. "Lovely," she declared, then stretched and yawned. "I'm done in. Time for sleep. Wake me when its my turn to keep watch."

[Finodborn]

To Fin, the wolf was eerie. As if it was an omen of bad things to come. He had no idea, but something about it definitely made him suspicious.

He arranged a comfortable place to sleep for himself, but didn't spend a lot of time in the land of dreams that night. Staring at the stars, he tried to remind himself why he was here and that it was worth.

[Brytan]

Skilled and archived!