Pesc hangs onto Kat’s words, chewing on each new bit of information with care. The news of some deception didn’t surprise him, but mention of the dark wolf disturbed his firm expression. He kept listening, teeth gritted, thinking quietly for a time after Kat concluded her story.
“This wolf… Black eyes and teeth. We have to assume the worst, even if unlikely—if this ranger really saw it, it means…” he holds his words even longer, unsure of how to continue. Bracing the side of his bed, Pesc pulls himself up in a quick motion, leveling his gaze with the present lairds. “This makes things more dangerous, above our heads. That ‘wolf’ sounds like a stalker, a beast that only spawns of the old evil. The end evil, of Orren’s time.” He adopts a grave, serious look while speaking, more serious than you’ve seen. “It’s rare, of course, but you’ve heard the stories. Orren scoured the world, but even he couldn’t wipe all of it out. Some pieces remain, and there’re always horrible men willing to use the power.” He doesn’t bother lowering his voice any more, speaking plainly so there is no mistake of his meaning. “You cannot go to the place of the attack. Stalkers are hard to read, might be he never returns… But there is no point risking a confrontation. If I was healthy, I would have us march back to the stronghold right this second and report him. But…” He looks at his wound, contemplating a course of action. “This other place that the ranger spoke of, the ritual ground, might bear fruit. Look it over, and if you even
think the place looks like the work of old evil, you’ll return here immediately. And for the sake of any gods there are, be damned careful.” Kat and Nix are dismissed a time later, more able to identify sure signs of the end evil.
The return of the rangers brought more complexity to the situation. Their leader, estranged from the prophet and his vision, showed a clear distaste for the lairds, but no overt hostility. He and his did not deign to confront the lairds personally, but gossip reflected the animosity in no uncertain terms. There was no time to act on it, however, since the injured ranger and her brother sought the lairds for their mission immediately. Rathgar found his way from the hall, and Tyr had to abandon his investigation to meet up with Kat and Nix.
Together, the lairds rested for the night at the ranger’s cabin, so that they could search the site with the morning light’s aid and protection. Both Naira and her brother Kurt made little conversation, besides quick introductions and short plans. Naira seemed fully invested in searching the site, perhaps overzealous, but Kurt lacked enthusiasm. Instead of animosity, Kurt kept an air of cautious distance when around the lairds. Not only that, but he said outright that he worried for his sister’s safety, and thought this folly better left alone. She would not relent, and so his agitation with the lairds only grew.
Brussen Outskirts
Tyr, Nix, Kat, Rathgar
The canopy kept much of the morning sunlight from the lairds, but enough of it penetrated the trees to prevent ambushes. At least, one hoped. The surreal sensations of overt magic persisted, but their time in the village acclimated them well. The ever present buzz of energy and subtle nausea felt less threatening, but still off putting.
The cold of night slowly withdrew, but a fine mist reminded the lairds of the early hour. When they arrived at the site, the dew had mostly settled. Kurt keeps his distance as Naira paces the grounds with the lairds. Clearly, this place hosted someone with arcane interests. Twine figures hang from branches and a fine powder covers the area. In places, the powder forms vague shapes and runes, but time has disturbed much of the writing. None of the group claim great magical knowledge, but a few are knowledgeable enough to recognize a fault with the ritual. Specifically, the site lacks the burns and residue indicative of most magics. Most spells, especially those conducted in nature, leave obvious marks that are hard to remove. Simply put, the spell is half baked. The place is either the result of a failed or incomplete spell. Kat and Nix, keen to look for any signs of end evil, find no such evidence.
When this comes to light, Kurt asserts that the camp is the same as he found it. At first, it seems like the place has been abandoned for some time, but searching thoroughly reveals two sets of tracks. One, a human’s, goes back in the direction of the village, but a more obvious set belongs to a group of creatures. Kurt quickly identifies the tracks as those belonging to the common ratplac, a pack creature of meagre intelligence.
The ratplac tracks, being plainer and more easily followed, lead only a small distance away, to a cave by a stream. Kurt halts at the entrance, frowning at the totems and markings on the cave’s mouth. “Ratplacs aren’t smart, or strong, or particular hardy. But they are remarkable cowards. When cornered, especially in their dens, they are unpredictable. I’m not risking my skin any further. If you like, enter the caves, but Naira and I will wait here.”
“Kurt, this can undo that damned burned man!” Naira insists, gesturing broadly to the cave. “He’s got to be part of this, and here’s our only chance to lift the wool from everybody’s eyes.” She tries to hide her fervor, but her dogged determination seems foolish when considering her injuries. Their argument continues, and it leaves the lairds to decide what must be done.
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Topic: [IC] Lairds of Orren (Read 7069 times)