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Bruh that's fake news

[Quaksna]

Times are changing slowly and pressing more, I'll be trying to make new episodes regularly, of what scope is the question. The paper problem has come back to haunt me, whether I've found a good supply we'll hopefully see next week, this one has brought less than stellar results. The future is uncertain, but I'll be fine. It's only this is but a portent of what is to come, in terms of the update schedule.

. . .

Spoiler: as per usual (click to show/hide)

"Right now, I can as much as guess..." you say, and from the looks of it, you won't have to convince anyone. "But now, let's see to my leg, then we can examine our pursuers, closer."



"Alright." Flax nods, and rallies the company to you. "What do we do?"

"Same as the last time - remove it carefully and I'll stick my hands in, but get something to band with ready too. I can't be sure..."

And the leader obeys.



The bandages Sas did not receive he now holds expectant, while the other man lays his hand on the instrument of war. Not all the metal has entered your body, enough of it though to provide much ease.



The head slips out, and your fingers go in, touching the blood you feel your heart beat twice, half as it pounds and half as each blow goes to smear other limbs. The pain gives you focus but it won't suffice, your breath flees like a bird and the spirits are restless.



Still you try to help yourself out, but for what currents stormed through you a while ago, what you feel now is wholly pitiful. You don't hold for long.



With a jerk of the neck you prompt the company to begin binding, without comment. At least you've cleaned it. The difficulties you see looming however, you wouldn't have hoped to alleviate anyway.



You slowly stand up, to see what you're dealing with. The hurt doesn't block you, but you'll have to mind the way you move more. How long you'll hold the haul is a mystery, and any haste seems out of the question. Though that shouldn't be an issue this instance...

"Need a shoulder?" Flax asks and approaches, but you deny, resting on the staff instead.



"Nay, I have this, come! We need to get to the bottom of this."

And onward you go.

Spoiler: I found this in the Dead Sea scrolls (click to show/hide)

"This I can but guess..."      you inform the band
your voice and blank eyes       serve to testify
"Help me with the leg,      then let us all go
and take a close look."



"Alright." the boss nods,      and forth moves along,
the rest he takes too      with him towards you.
"Well, what should we do?"

"See, same as back when:      remove it with care,
and I'll clog the wound,        though also prepare
some cloth with to wrap.      I cannot be sure..."
The leader heeds so.



The bandages Sas did not receive he now holds expectant, while the other man lays his hand on the instrument of war. Not all of the head straight entered your flesh, still far deep it rests to offer much grace.



The metal slips out,      your fingers go in
touching the blood you       feel your heart beat twice
indeed doubly so,      half as it pounds
and half as each blow      goes to smear more limbs
Pain gives you focus,     but more stands against
spirits grow restless       and quick does you breath. 



Still you try to help yourself out, but for what currents stormed through you a while ago, what you feel now is wholly pitiful.

You don't hold for long.



With a jerk of the neck you prompt the company to begin binding, saying no more. At least you've cleaned it. The difficulties you see looming however, you wouldn't have hoped to alleviate anyway.



You slowly stand up, to see what you're dealing with. The hurt doesn't block you, but you'll have to mind the way you move more. How long you'll hold the haul is a mystery, and any haste seems out of the question. Though that shouldn't be an issue this instance...

"You need a shoulder?"      Flax asks and approaches
you but throw a glance       and tap on your staff.



"Nay, I have this. Come!       To which lies closer."

And onward you go.

[King Zultan]

Well I guess it's time to move on since we just got attacked here and no one wants to sleep next to corpses. But have we looted the corpses yet because we should probably do that before we leave.

[Strif3]

yep, that sounds like the thing to do. Lets just loot the corpses and get the hell out of here.

[Quaksna]

. . .

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

"Come to think of it..." you halt the departure. "Put out the fire. I too don't think we should return."

"Ey?" buzzes Flax, and turns round to listen. Sas sets his sight on him, and the vagrant comes to pat you, and stand by your side thereafter, quiet.



"Would you lie down next to corpses? My work is done, there's nothing keeping us here. Not to mention, if there's more in our tracks, we really are better off moving."

" 'Tis true we left a slaughter nearby, that's quite bad on its own... See, that's how you make a point, peck, take notes!"

"Whatever." spits the stoat. "As long as we're going."



"But before we do, shouldn't we keep some light for your examination?" the warrior inquires. "I know not what it entails."

"I'll manage." you reply. "Only if you so need to find the path again, and collect the weapons."



He shakes his head, and begins to bury the brand. The rest of you pick up all belongings and promptly abandon the camp.



The second foe to die did so a toss away, and this his body reached in no time. The while your fellows scour for speartips, you inspect the dead. His belt is crudely made, much like the strips that adorn you, but that is unsurprising, the weapons are anything but. The notion remains to stock themselves with so much, these tribesmen took no chances.



Concerning the warrior himself, to pinpoint a particular horde of origin so far away is a fool's errand, but enough signs are present to hint a general area. Powerful skull, tall build, thorned crown, he must come from the far north much like you - a would be neighbour. If so, he must've fared a long journey, but why? To slay you?

The paint then suggests a priest's endorsement. Perhaps a war has broken out? Only someone truly bold would signal so when facing his own. And if they were to attack the land rather than you in particular, why would they so readily disown you, when you bore your own sacred insignia? It is rather distressing, one longs to believe they were mere loons and nothing more...

"Well, what you got?" you hear Flax manifest behind.



"As far as I know, they're not locals..." you speak. "They had to hail from about where we embarked from..."

"All the way? How long have they watched us?"

"It is likely another shaman assisted them, or outright orchestred the ordeal alone. Either that, or they're truly blessed with the visions they summon, hard to imagine..."



"So they'll chase us wherever you say?" the vagrant questions. "I sincerely hope there's no more magic to plague us at your place, Bloody..."

"I suppose such assails ought not to occur amidst your folk, true?" the lead asks, and as obvious it seems to you, you can't be mad at him. Pointing at the dye you answer.

"Not with these symbols. I cannot make sense of it. Perhaps we just got caught in something bigger, by accident..."



"Run not. We shall join soon."



"Be it how it may be, what do we do if more show up? As much as we don't know, now it presents itself as a possibility."

"By then we'll be back on the frequented road. If we're attacked anyway, if nothing else the presence of other may provide light upon their intentions."

"Let's not take chances, then, move!" the stoat insists. "There just might be a handful out and about!"



"Easy, there's one more to go..." the guide reminds her. "I do need to figure this out, it wasn't always that beastmen would jump travellers!"



Swiftly you stride across the thin, dying snow, on constant lookout. It is only your steps you can hear, and you will to maintain such state, however, your worry was on point - you cannot hurry all that much. But the field is clear, and you reach the first to fall this night.

There is not a lot to gather on top from this one, though still something to comment upon. His features are very similar to the other one, without a doubt of the same tribe, possibly closely tied by blood as well. It makes you think.



"This one's the same kind..." you inform the company. "And I muss stress how capable and accomplished specimen they were... Such men should conquer grounds, challenge their lords, amass wealth! Why venture on this quest? So young they were, too..."

"Fool. They trail their destiny, can't you see?"

"Very much capable." Flax nods. "I have not come across such proficiency, since I have met you. I too must repeat, if you lot really applied yourselves..."



"And in a way, the did. Only this kind of journey they are the wrong age and footing for..."

"Well that sounds familiar, I wonder..."

"It's all backwards... If you have the loot, we better go. I can but ponder now anyway..."

[King Zultan]

We should equip that dead guy's belt as more storage is always a good thing to have, after that we should start making our way to our next destination.

[Strif3]

Verbally, audibly lash out at Crackantler, blame his stench for these bastards coming after us.

[Quaksna]

Verbally, audibly lash out at Crackantler, blame his stench for these bastards coming after us.

May I plea for an enlightement? If it's verbal and audible, there is a language barrier to consider - is the message contained or is everyone to be able to hear and/or understand?

Just want to make sure I get it as intended.

[Strif3]

yeah lets just curse Crackantler's name out loud, is what i meant, in whatever tongue we're talking to our companions in.

[King Zultan]

+1 To telling Crackantler to fuck off.

[Quaksna]

. . .


Well, I tried.

Won't be able to finish an update till the evening. Presumably not even after then, I might need to put ToDW aside for a couple weeks. It's all laid out and being processed, but there won't be space for the labor... Thanks for sticking through, progress is very slow as is, cannot but hold on a wee bit longer.

Also thanks for the swift answer regarding the last action. It's one of those things that can alter consequences significantly.

[King Zultan]

I'm okay with waiting for the next update, so take as long as you need to get the update finished.

I've been here since the beginning and I shall be here until the end.

[Quaksna]

Startle thee not, the update is, today I picked up a brush again after a long time. Things went rather wrong, messed up the process much more than I could have anticipated, but that crisis was temporary and thus  not important, still I was forced to think, for now my normal schedule doesn't leave enough time for ToDW. If I am to keep this project running in any meaningful way, I have decided the next update will be the last to be colored in for the time being. It'd be strange to force this policy onto this episode, considering it was already in the making, and content-wise it fits too, it is about halfway done so I hope I can post finish it next week.

I'll try of course to push the extra flair if circumstances allow it, as I have done before, I missed this thing so, but the past week of mere concept art and gathering lore snippets had shown me, I couldn't touch the updates most of the time. Budget cuts and all

[Strif3]

I shall await it with great anticipation!

...Yep i'm still here! haven't gone anywhere, don't intend to. Saw no reason to disturb you either, Q.

[King Zultan]

I to am excited to see the next installment and every one after that even if they aren't coloured.

[Quaksna]

. . .

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

All the commotion of battle is over, the air stood still for some time now, and none of you crave more noise. But the shadow keeps whispering, and the while your fellows can only hear so much, yours is as if alive, and blights you with words.



"You shan't outrun fate..."



"Silence, Crackantler!" you growl at the wraith. "It is your sick reek they seek! That has brought them here! Blast you!"



"Excuse me?" Flax turns 'round, and the others with him. But they recognize fast none of them living are being addressed.



"And yet..."



"Whose fault is it really?"



"Black? What was that?"



Darkness swirls about your eyes, not of the night, but straight from the depths of the Underworld. Strange numbness deafens all voice, and the wraith too speaks no more. For a moment so you drift, before two blazing cinders surface.



"I think I know..." you mutter, as vision still defies you. Much like the exclaim you've hurled beforehand, the words keep flowing through. And the dark murmur in your head too echoes ever stronger.

"Something about the two? Speak!"



"I'm so tired, I tried... Give me time. Time till the morrow..." you struggle. "Let us clear out, take the belts, too... We must go."

"Ahem, sure.... Come everyone!" the man responds, puzzled yet prompt, but his face is like a mirage to you.



He then draws his sword, ready to rally the band. "Let's make the move count. The road is that way!"



All haste without hesitation. Hardly you can see anything on the horizon, only brush you watch pass beneath. What you hear besides your burden rustling is Sas, retching every so often.



The leader then halts you, only slowly proceeding till the sickness perishes. Suits you too, having your gait hampered as well, and an ill humour overall.



No one dares to approach you. Even the specter you've silenced, but his presence remains to pester, like a scar torn anew it pains you to the core. And you do ponder. It has to be the wraith, the root of your misfortune... You have to reach Soulcatcher soon, free yourself of the load. Mayhap now, that you are hunted, there is an opportunity. To get the rest on track, make sure that your quest goes through...

At last, over the field you spot dwellings, the settlement you've left for the woods, and a line of small lights nearby.



"Hold on, almost there!" the warrior drives you. "Look, we won't be alone by the path, either."

"So we're not going inside after all?" the stoat asks, somewhat calmer, hard to tell whether by intent or on account of weariness. Either way, Flax shakes his head, nonetheless composed.



"We can't now, no. Better to lay low, I'm sorry."

"No use anymore anyway... How much wood we've brought?"



You fell in deep slumber so fast, you cannot recall how the fire was set. But the night was one to remember, even as you slept. Like the vision you tried to induce, many an appearance is stuck in your memory, until the dawn broke.