At the southern gate of Foghaunt...Jum looked at his fellows - their faces were truly auspicious, and the wizard had donned his fateful overhat. The path ahead would probably be interesting and dangerous - the only thing left to do was to go down it, because that is what one invariably had to do with interesting and dangerous paths. Or so thought Jum, anyway - he didn't see any other path to travel down, at any rate.
Practically simultaneously, the kingspawn (the ones who had horses, at least) mounted their respective steeds. He noticed that ATF looked rather uncomfortable for a long moment, staring thoughtfully into the distance before digging underneath his saddle for a moment and producing a cavalry spike. ATF shook his head disappointedly, as did Jum, who did not want to feel left out, and V also joined in at about the end, but this only made the affair more awkward when he wouldn't stop when the rest did. Jum thought about asking why somebody would put a cavalry spike under ATF's saddle, but thought better of it. Clearly, ATF found the answer obvious, and that was enough.
Despite this momentary distraction, the entire group, 17 of them in total plus a few horses of varying ferocity, set off without as much as a word. Their spirits were lukewarm at the very best, the enthusiasm of adventure either never having surfaced or rapidly having deflated, but nevertheless they were about to journey far to the south on a quest to save their future holdings, and this, one could not help but agree, was a good thing.
On the first night of the perilous southward journey...It was dark out, and not a soul was stirring in the quiet meadows surrounding Foghaunt. The kingspawn and their retinues had camped out near a pond, and most of the people who were not on watch (the task had fallen to Jum and Veltipp on the first night, because Veltipp was apparently an insomniac anyway, and Jum had volunteered to confirm this fact) had gone to rest - their progress had been slow because they had set off in the late afternoon, but nevertheless they were somewhat clear of the city. And now that evening was well past the halfway point, it was time for Shai, who had just finished up a spot of herb gathering, to practice his squirely arts on his master, a fact he felt rather queasy about. For one, the area was hardly lit at all, and the two of them were alone, as Habber and Tobber had insisted on sleeping in a nearby tree in strange, cocoon-like hammocks, and his current task was to learn how to maximally effectively undress his liege. Granted, he had to learn how to redress him immediately afterwards, but it still made him uncomfortable.
Then again, lots of things about this journey made him uncomfortable. His horse was probably the chief concern - Shai had the distinct impression that it was pondering terrible things in relation to him, and it would always avert its eyes when Shai made eye contact with it. And the packhorse invariably following along was no better. Perhaps the two beasts were conspiring together even now.
"Well, are you going to start already?" came the stern voice of the prince, snapping Shai out of his growing concern for his own safety.
"Yes, right away, sir," he hurriedly replied and began the process of unbuckling. As he had guessed, it was easy to see how it fit together, and even easier to locate the various connections by hand. Within three minutes, he had removed the entirety of the prince's armor, leaving him looking rather defenseless as well as slightly pink in the face. He seemed to be fairly hot. Um, in his armor. Yes. The climate was somewhat unfavorable for that sort of thing. That's what Shai thought.
"Now put it back on again," the prince said authoritatively, and Shai moved to put the armor back on, beginning to sweat a little. From the exertion, yes. The armor was heavy, after all. Anyway, putting it back on was a little more difficult than taking it off, not for any lack of trying, but with his questing hands and inquisitive mind Shai put the entire set back on the prince, making a few mistakes along the way, but ultimately getting it right in four minutes. The prince did not seem entirely pleased.
"Very well. Again," he said without much inflection, and Shai set to work again. The second time was much easier, and he removed the prince's cumbersome armor with significant speed and efficiency, managing the feat in slightly under two minutes and once more exposing the kingspawn to the elements. He reminded Shai of a soft, white egg in a sense. He wondered how he could walk around in that armor all day. He probably had quite the bit of muscle on that small frame of his. Shai's eyes began to wander over the prince's chest and-improper thoughts! Improper thoughts! Why did his intellect have to torment him so? Hoping to take his mind off the biggest issue at hand, Shai quickly put the armor back on again - one and a half minutes. He was breathing hard now.
"Impressive progress, I suppose," the prince said, nodding to Shai in approval.
"Now take it off again."And Shai did, singing a jolly song to himself to ward off the nasty thoughts. It didn't really work, but the rhythm of the song did seem to improve his work. One minute and twenty seconds. Shai was practically breathless, and the prince was almost ready for bed. Shai, meanwhile, wished to punch his mind in the face right now, and was only slightly deterred by how little sense that made.
"It seems that you are indeed learning quickly," Prince Grimmeth said, changing into the fancy silken nightshirt he had obtained earlier today. Shai averted his eyes in panic and hoped he wasn't blushing too much.
"I shall be going now, yes?" he asked quickly, and didn't wait for the prince to reply before he left, running across the meadow from the prince's tent to Tobber and Habber's tree, climbing up it with astounding quickness. Sitting on one of the lower branches, he took a moment to catch his breath. The slightly cool night air did wonders for his peace of mind, or so he thought until he noticed an arbalest poking out of what he presumed was Tobber's cocoon. It seemed to be loaded, and pointed at him. Shai reflexively raised his hands, his expression a combination of fear and mild lack of surprise. After two minutes passed and he wasn't shot, Shai supposed that he probably was in no danger - Tobber was probably merely asleep, and in his typical yokel mentality had left his weapon out in a dangerous manner - and tried to move out of the way. He was most distressed when the arbalest followed his movements, and, having been proven wrong, gracefully returned to his prior position. Lowering his hands produced a slight hiss from the cocoon that wouldn't stop until he raised them again. Hm.
Well, Shai then decided to just keep still like this for as long as was necessary (which proved to be until early morning - he was fairly sure that he nodded off at one point and his hands had remained raised). On the bright side, however, he had absolutely no thoughts of his liege in the interval, which he did thank Tobber for sincerely when he seemed to wake up for real and finally lowered his arbalest. Tobber seemed magnanimous in his own way.
On the second day of the fateful trek...Jum watched the clouds carefully as he, V and ATF wandered off the road in search for goodies only Mother Nature (Jum was not sure if that was actually a goddess or not, but he assumed that she had every right to be even if she really wasn't) could provide. Even though they had ventured somewhat far south, the clouds did not look very familiar. Was he not moving fast enough.
"Pay attention, Jum. You nearly stepped on that orcweed," ATF suddenly rebuked him. Ah, right. Plants. If only Jum knew what to look for.
"Should I collect it?" Jum asked. Maybe he could learn something from this.
"No, no, we don't need it," ATF replied and they proceeded onwards. The hunt was going well, and ATF seemed to be grabbing all sorts of wacky herbs left and right. There was an excited look in his eyes - Jum guessed that was what science looked like, deceptively boring. V seemed to be enjoying himself, though.
"Ah, the grass of truth!" he suddenly shouted, triumphantly pointing at a patch of unremarkable weeds. He then strolled over to them, knelt down and, after saying something incomprehensible, carefully collected each of them, placing them in a bag he produced from underneath his armor.
"Nature showers us with gifts this day!""What're you gonna do with those weeds, V?" Jum asked. He never knew V had such an affinity for nature.
"Smoke them, in all likelihood," ATF added in a somewhat annoyed tone.
"On the contrary! The grass of truth cannot be burned, because then you see only lies. Only the truly ignorant would smoke the grass of truth! No, the grass of truth should be carefully prepared, sliced, diced, mixed with a dash of hemlock and liberally steamed, and only then can its knowledge be internalized!" V said with his characteristic wild-eyed stare, raising a finger to the air.
"It is fortunate that today is the fourth day of the week! That's when the truth is ripe for the knowing, you know!"It was an interesting day in the woods, all in all, and the bounty that Mother Nature had proved massive enough that all three of them struggled to carry the massive volume of them all. Fortunately, ATF (and V to an extent) spent most of their time in camp reducing the herbs to their most valuable extracts - V's work in particular produced a lot of fumes that made Jum a little dizzy. Eventually, they all went to sleep, feeling very accomplished, and Jum had a great many lucid dreams of carnivorous geometric shapes.
On the third evening of the royal quest...Uks was getting the shakes something fierce. And though the way his legs were in intense agony did help him take his mind off it, he still did not feel like the porter's life was a particularly rewarding one. Though he supposed it could be worse - after all, he did not have to lug around a tent. They had a packhorse for that. So he had only a heavy pack of rations that made his back try to rebel against him every once in a while, and he could probably count himself lucky. And also, he reminded himself as often as possible, he was going to get paid. Someday, anyway. Probably not too long from now. He hoped. After all, that guy he was working for seemed to be doing paperwork every night. And where there was paperwork, money was usually involved. He really did wish for all this to be over soon. Even though his pack was getting lighter by the day, he was unsure if he would not just snap in half if he went on for one day more.
"You there!" a voice called out from nearby, and Uks sprang up out of reflex, noticing that none other than the second-youngest kingspawn seems to have called him - him specifically, because there seemed to be nobody else around right now. He had moved to a more distant spot in relation to the camp specifically to avoid this sort of thing happening.
"Yes?" Uks asked in a somewhat weak voice.
"Come with me. I shall practice swordplay with you," the prince said. Oh dear. Uks felt his knees wobble as he dragged himself after the prince. He was going to die. And he could not run, he could not hide. He could only practice swordplay until the insurmountable physical pain ripped the life from his body. Stepping over to a part of the forest with fewer trees, the prince indicated a nearby fallen branch for Uks with his sword.
"For purposes of practice, pick that up," he said with force behind his words, and Uks obeyed. And even though the branch was fairly light, the man had difficulty picking it up, or at least holding on to it.
"Very well. Now, defend yourself!" the prince ordered, and immediately did a pirouette in his plate armor, the tip of his sword pressing against the side of Uks' neck before the poor guy even had a chance to process the words.
"Are you even trying?" he asked.
"Huh?""Yes, I thought as much. Let's try again," the kingspawn said again, then made a pretend slash against Uks' legs. Uks did not even pretend to try to dodge this time, and the prince barely stopped his blade before it drew blood.
"Hm. How about you try and attack me instead?" he said thoughtfully after a moment of consideration.
"Uh...""Give it your best shot."Uks did, and it came out mostly as a kind of halfhearted swing, in the middle of which he lost grip on the branch. It flew off and fell into a nearby ditch, which proceeded to rustle a little for the next few moments as the denizens of the undergrowth examined the newly-arrived piece of wood.
"You seem to be utterly useless," Prince Grimmeth observed, and Uks nodded. The prince merely shook his head and left in disgust. Uks left shortly thereafter, found a comfy spot back at camp and passed out peacefully, resting in order to suffer another day.
On the fourth evening of the glorious path of destiny...Myrica was beginning to grow somewhat bored of sitting around and guarding Prince Wallace while he was doing his arcane taxes. And yet she felt it necessary enough to force Betu to be here as well - not only was it good practice and kept her out of trouble, but they could also be sure that none would try and harm the somewhat doughy and soft kingspawn while his undivided attention was focused on tabulating expenses and making projections like an experienced diviner.
"This sitting around is killing me," Betu said bluntly for the fifteenth time today.
"I swear, I'm just going to die if I sit here one minute longer.""That's just your impatient nature slowly wearing itself out. This is good for you," Myrica said in as motherly a manner as she could manage.
"Yes, yes, I know. You're trying to break me. Excellent parenting right there," Betu said, looking enviously at the fire some distance away from them. Myrica looked as well, noticing that the Seer appeared to be dancing in a strange, twitchy fashion around some kind of odd, nonsensical pattern drawn on the ground, and Veltipp seemed to be dancing along with her and laughing in a childlike manner. Two of Prince Don's guards - the slimy one and the impatient one, Myrica didn't remember their names - seemed to be watching and sharing vaguely judgmental conversation with one another, while that huge guard of Arcus' was scratching his head and seemingly wondering when would be the best time to interfere somehow.
"I doubt it is a good idea for you to be in their company, anyway. I would hate to see what would happen if you got your hands on those herbs of theirs.""It'd be a learning experience. You can't try to deprive me of those. I'll be, what's the word, emotionally stunted?"Both Veltipp and the Seer raised their hands, looking up at the sky. Their dancing remained otherwise unchanged.
"I believe it may be too late for that, anyway.""So what's the problem, then?""I doubt those men would treat you well. They seem unsavory, quite frankly."Myrica had the feeling that the impatient guy, the one with the P-name who wasn't the depressive one, was trying to flirt with her constantly. Or at least that's how she interpreted his constant attempts to try and talk to her about killing things.
"That's why I learned how to stab people to death, isn't it?""Exactly my point. If I let you out there, somebody will die sooner or later.""Oh, come on, I'm not that bad.""At the very least I suspect you will bother the Seer unduly.""But I just want to know if she's got armored plates on her body. You know, like a beetle. Ooh, I wonder if she can fly," Betu smiled as she began to fantasize.
"I strictly forbid you from attempting to find out any such thing, Betu. I mean it."There was a moment of silence as the smile faded from Betu's face.
"You know, I'm not sure why I keep listening to you. You always try to stop me from doing anything interesting," she said. Myrica really expected her to pout, but she didn't seem to feel like it.
"If you did not listen to me, you would not be a very good little sister, would you?" Myrica said mockingly, grinning in a sickeningly sweet manner for a moment before returning to her usual bland expression.
"Um," Betu stammered a little,
"yes. I guess."They spoke no more for the next few minutes until Myrica noticed two figures approaching. One of them was distinctly smaller than the other - Prince Don. And the other was thus clearly one of his bodyguards.
"Greetings," the Prince said in his deadpan voice. Myri got the feeling that he was mocking her somehow, but she knew that it would be impolite not to answer sincerely.
"Greetings, sir," she said right back, and Betu returned the greeting much the same way.
"We do not seem to have spoken much, have we?" the prince observed.
"We have not been very sociable, I'm afraid. We are used to traveling alone, you see," Myrica said, and was somewhat impressed with how close she was in tone to the prince. Perhaps it would be best to put more emotion into it.
"Indeed. You were...""Myrica, sir. And this is my sister Betu," Myrica pointed at Betu, who smiled at the prince in an almost completely honest manner.
"You should not mistake us for unfriendly, sir," she said.
"We are as partial to a bit of cordial conversation as anyone."She seemed to be trying to involve the prince. This was... acceptable, Myrica supposed. Always good to be nice to royalty.
"Hm, yes. So, how are you finding the journey?""Uneventful, sir," Myrica replied noncommittally,
"which is perfectly acceptable.""But were that to change, we would certainly not be disappointed. We have to earn our pay, yes?" Betu added with a palpable spark of hope to her voice.
"Indeed. So, you are from the eastern provinces, I assume?" the prince continued.
"That we are.""It was becoming unfeasible for us to live there," Betu said, volunteering just the right amount of information.
"We were among the last to leave our village. Place was mostly deserted after that.""How long have you been in your line of work?""Two years now, I believe.""Oh no, three at least. I remember myself in the beginning. Could hardly even hold a knife back then.""And now look at us," Myrica said, and Betu smirked a little.
"You certainly do seem quite capable.""We indubitably are, sir. As we will surely demonstrate when things start happening," Betu said slightly restlessly, which Myrica found a little crass.
"It should not take long for things to pick up. We should reach the edge of the heartland soon. Then the more dangerous leg of our journey will begin.""We'll be waiting with bated breath, sir. A fine bit of excitement is nothing to shy away from," Betu said with a bright look on her face.
"As long as we exercise caution at the same time, of course.""Naturally," Betu grinned.
"Well, I will be going, then. Good luck on your... vigil?" said the prince, sparing a glance at Wallace, who still seemed insensibly entrenched in financial arithmetic.
"It is more a matter of patience, really.""Of course," the prince nodded, and promptly left with his somewhat inanimate-looking guard. Myrica supposed that went well, and nodded approvingly to Betu, whose spirits seem to have risen by a significant margin.
On the fifth day of the wondrous travels of the kingspawn...The whistling. The maddening whistling that would not stop for days on end. Sometimes it was closer, sometimes further away, but never would it end. It reminded Pilk of the sound of his own humanity seeping out of the gaping hole in his soul, it was so bad. And even when it was too far to hear, it nevertheless resonated in his mind. Pilk often wondered how Wilril managed to whistle at all while asleep, let alone so jauntily, but here he was. Suffering even worse than that half-dead horse of Prince Grimm's, even worse than that porter guy who somehow managed to look, sound and smell like death at the same time.
And what was even worse was that nobody heard the whistling like he did. It did not seem to get to anybody else at all for some reason. So there was nobody else whose misery he could feel good about, and nobody who understood what he felt right now. It was a terrifyingly depressing existence he led, Pilk guessed resignedly. And Prince Don was most definitely not helping.
"I notice you seem to be in low spirits today, Pilk.""Me, sir? In low spirits? I hadn't noticed, myself," he lied with an air of desperation.
"It is important for you to be as functional as possible, Pilk. We are venturing into danger, after all.""I haven't been sleeping well, sir. The issue should clear up soon."When somebody put him out of his misery, you know.
"Very well."They continued for quite a while, the whistling showing no signs of abatement, when suddenly the wild men, the hunter and the trapper, both emerged from the forest they tended to mostly confine themselves to.
"There is a temple up ahead," the hunter said in a serpentine voice, and the trapper nodded. They gave Pilk the creeps, but Pilk decided that he actually rather liked them, for to be disturbed was unquestionably better than to be saddened. And they had brought good news, too. Civilization! That had been fairly absent in the journey so far. Probably because the road was fairly new, Pilk supposed. And because fewer people were in the mood to expand these days - Pilk could understand that sentiment.
The party took on a more excited mood (Pilk and the porter guy excluded, naturally), and they moved rapidly ahead, eventually finding that their two strange friends had not lied - there was indeed a sort of temple-like structure just off the road, clearly built on one of those ancient gnomish ruins, judging from the massive foundation. It had no indication of what sort of temple it was, and looked woefully unfinished, or, rather, under construction. This made Pilk nervous. Any temple people erected in times like these could not be one espousing a very healthy worldview, to put it mildly.
We're back with quite possibly the biggest turn yet. Or at least it certainly felt that way. Hope it was worth the wait.
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Topic: Kingspawn of Allochthon: important question! (Read 19675 times)