Chapter III - Into the Unknown

moarhair wrote:

"Well, at least it's not the kind of mess that calls for my skills. Crossing the river ought to take care of most of it."

Otto breathes out a relieved "Amen to that!", still trying to catch his breath. "I must have looked away at the wrong moment, because when I looked back, Ardan here was flat with this thing coming after him like he'd insulted its mother." Otto goes back to panting, his hands resting on his knees, his head down.

She looks Ardan and Otto up and down, and grins. "Though you may want to clean up a bit before we pack up the rest of our gear."

"Ew. Right. Looking at this mess, it is hard to believe that a train of turtle-shaped Tenebrae are not marching by as we speak..."

Otto looks at the carcass and shakes his head. He'd rather not have killed the animal, but at least there was no moral dilemma here. These bloodstains are much easier to clean out of his clothes than the ones on his soul.

He mentally steels himself for river's crossing, but has one more task to do. "Would you mind breaking down camp for me today, and fetching the horses? This carcass may come in useful, and it may take a little time to strip it.

He gets out his hand axe and his knife, getting to work on the beast's corpse. It had landed flat on its belly, making the job of carving off the hide that much easier. After cutting off and saving the tail, he draws one long cut around the circumference of the animal, and peels the hide off its back, occasionally stopping to hack through the spinal extensions with his axe. The membrane between meat and hide made the job much cleaner than he expected, and before long, he has a large oval of bone-plated hide. He rolls it as best he can, and ties it to the pack horse.

As best any of you can tell, Otto does a pretty decent job skinning the beast. It's incredibly heavy and hard to move around, but luckily Otto is the man for that job too.

It's messy - are dead animals supposed to squirt this much blood? - but, in the end Otto emerges with one very heavy hide that one very unlucky horse it going to have to haul across the river. Luckily the tail comes off easily with a choppity-chop. Otto is pretty sure he can make a vicious weapon out of the tail. Or, failing that, a wicked cricket bat.

While digging around in the guts of the Big Chungusaurus, Otto realizes that its meat is likely edible. Even if it is some unholy combination of bird and turtle, both are edible. Chickens are common enough, and turtles are fine cuisine among some connoisseurs. Common sense says to cook it thoroughly, at which point it should be delicious-ish.

Captain_Hoyt wrote:

"Would you mind breaking down camp for me today, and fetching the horses? This carcass may come in useful, and it may take a little time to strip it.

Adrasta looks at the carcass. Leather had many uses and if the craftsman thought he could do something with this, she had no reason to doubt it. She nods. "Alright, Ardan and I will break camp."

She turns and starts walking. "I'll get started on the tents. You go grab the horses," she tells Ardan.

As they make their way back, she glances at the swordsman. "That was some fancy swordplay. Where'd you learn to fight like that?"

With a look of disgust Ardan gets up and looks down on his blood splattered garments. "Thank god we will have to cross the water now. Never thought nature would be so disgusting. Can't wait to be back in civilisation. " he tries to brush off some of the pieces and follows Adrasta. "Ah, that? Oh, it's all in the feet..." , suddenly remembering his glorious stumble and fall at the end of fight, he corrects himself "Err, it's all in the head, the head. You know, you have to foresee where your opponent goes. That's why I dove down there at the end."
He then continues towards the horses to calm them and prepare them for the crossing.

Adrasta scoffs and shakes her head. "You're as dodgy in conversation as you are in battle, malakia."

She stops walking and turns to face him. She puts her hands on her hips and raises her chin to look at him defiantly. "The road is long and travelling is boring. I'll get answers out of you eventually." She grins. "Enjoy your secrets while you can."

With a chuckle, she heads off to pack up the band's campsite.

<<Morning - Day 9 - Early Spring - North Side of the River - Wilderness>>

You break camp and get the horses loaded up. The Big Chungusaurus hide goes on the poor draft horse, which visibly sags under the weight.

Then it's into the river. Putting a toe in confirms that it's not warm. Getting up to your knees is bracing and then it hits your genitals and OH GOD IT'S COLD IT'S COLD WHOSE IDEA WAS THIS??

The breath leaves your body. The far shore doesn't seem to be getting any closer but that could just be the impression that the INTENSE PAIN OF COLD WATER is conveying to your brain. The horses aren't much happier.

The good news is that the current is mild; you're in little danger of being swept away. Cardiac arrest is the immediate threat; hypothermia is the longer-term concern.

The river gets deep enough where the horses need to swim. Wolf and Wanderer have no issues; the draft horse and Otto's horse are having a hard time of it. The hide is making the draft horse top-heavy and it threatens to tip over. Luckily it manages to right itself and continue on.

Ardan, riding, has no issues. It turns out that Adrasta is a powerful swimmer too, easily carving a path across the river. Otto, on the other hand, seriously struggles. Perhaps he's so muscular that he's not particularly buoyant, but Otto swims like a stone. He gets across but barely, gasping and wheezing and he staggers onto the far shore on his hands and knees.

Having made it across the river, you are now very wet and very cold.

Ardan immediately gets on gathering as much dry wood as possible to get a decent fire working to warm up and dry. Oh, how he yearns for a warm hearth and a bowl of stew.

Adrasta scours the shore for dry wood. Between the group's effort, she's able to get a small fire going, but its flame dances precariously in the breeze. She squats near it, shivering, her usual bluster all but gone as her survival instincts scream at her to conserve energy.

The shivering makes it difficult for Otto to speak. He tries a few times, but gives up and gets to the task at hand -- getting the fire going. Adrasta's fire is started, but weak. Otto draws his knife and chips bits of wood into the fire. Kindling, easy to set alight, and build heat quickly.

He looks at the horses a little ruefully. Most of what they carry has gotten wet. Not only will it have to dry out, it needs to be taken off their backs. Their load is heavy enough, but soaked blankets make their legs work that much harder. He removes one soaked blanket, and lays it out on the river bank. Then he begins to unload the packs, setting them on the blanket.

His pack full of tools holds a hammer, which he promptly digs out. He searches for some branches, and makes a pile near the growing fire. He takes a wet blanket, wrings out what he can, and lays it across the branches -- off the ground, with air flowing beneath. He looks at it in satisfaction, and goes back to chipping wooden bits into the fire.

<<Noon - Day 9 - Early Spring - North Side of the River - Wilderness>>

Adrasta gets the fire going - barely - and, in hindsight, this seems to be the difference between life and death.

Ardan and Adrasta are not doing well. Their smaller frames shiver uncontrollably. Their speech becomes slurred and their their thoughts seem confused. Both of them are terribly clumsy. Only Otto, with his much larger frame, retains any resemblance of manual dexterity.

The small fire buys you enough time for the sun to rise. It's not a warm day but it's dry and clear. Otto gets some water boiling on the fire, which he blessedly has the coordination to pour into cups for the shivering trio. Some warm food helps too.

It's after lunch before you've dried out and are functioning again. Looking back,  you realize that a slow-flowing river might be the most lethal opponent you've faced so far.

"How far do you estimate is the village? I need a hot hearth to get the chill out, a proper stew and a cup of dice. No wonder so few people live in this godforsaken Wilderness. Curses!"
Grumpy, as often lately, Ardan loads the horses again and urges the group to continue. He has but one wish: back to civilisation.

Adrasta stays on foot, hoping to warm herself up through exertion. She leads Wanderer by her bridle, much to the mare's chagrin, as it severely limits her opportunities for exploration. The walk does help Adrasta. She's still cold and her damp clothing clings to her body under her armor, but at least her muscles are working and raising her body's temperature.

"Beats me," she answers Ardan. She looks up at the sky and imagines holding a warm bowl of stew in her hands. The smell of the cooked meat, onions, potatoes, carrots... Her mouth waters. She looks back down and wipes a tear from her eye.  "Hopefully, not much further."

Otto seems to have recovered from the chill a little quicker than the others. They may occasionally catch his sidelong glances, as he checks on their condition. He resists the urge to mother-hen them to death.

He starts grabbing sticks as he walks, tucking them into the lines used to secure the packs. Stopping early to make a fire, getting ahead of the early evening chill -- this seems like a good plan. He checks the tents as he walks next to the horses. Still damp. "By the Caverns of Syrinx, when will these blasted things dry??" He's convinced an early fire would be a good thing, to give the tents more opportunity to dry.

"Early stop to build a fire and dry the tents?", he queries.

<<Afternoon - Day 9 - Early Spring - North Side of the River - Wilderness>>

After drying off a bit, you get moving. Your course leads N-NW.

The terrain is smooth and flat but full of trees. But the lack of elevation change makes it easier going than what you've been through recently. There are many smaller creeks and streams but luckily these are easy to cross, especially on horseback.

After you've gone about 16 kilometers / 10 miles - which takes the horses about 2.5 hours - you get to another river which needs to be crossed. It looks much the same as the one you came across this morning.

You're taking a moment to assess the situation when you hear... whistling? Yes, indeed, someone is whistling to themselves. You approach and find an older woman who has an easel and canvas set up. She's on an overlook, painting the scene of the river in the afternoon sun. Periodically, she also uses a looking glass and a sextant. It appears that while painting the view, she's also surveying the terrain and making a map of it.

She's lean and wiry, as if she's been in the woods for ages. Her hair is silver and pulled into a pony tail that falls past her shoulders. She's at least middle-aged, maybe even older, as you're not certain how quickly The Wilderness ages folks.

If she notices you coming - which would be difficult not to do, given all your horses - she doesn't mention it. Perhaps she is hard of hearing, but then why would she be whistling?

The old woman is a surprising, but welcome sight. Her presence most likely meant the possibility of solid shelter and a hearth. After spending the day in cold, damp clothing, and the last few nights camping in the wild, even a barn would feel like a palace, so long as it was dry. 

Adrasta steps forward to get into the surveyor field of view and clears her throat to announce her presence. The old woman looks carelessly unarmed, but Adrasta wouldn't be surprised if she was hiding a knife within the folds of her skirt. It wouldn't do to approach and surprise her. This was the Wilderness, after all. "Good afternoon, ma'am. Sorry to bother you. My friends and I are looking for a fishing village rumored to be nearby. Would you happen to hail from there? Could you point us in its direction?" She smiles. "We have had a rather trying day and could use a hearth to sit by."

The woman turns toward you. Her expression is neither surprised nor shows expectation.

"Why hello," she says in a kindly, grandmotherly way. "Look what the cat dragged in."

She seems to be referring to your bedraggled appearance, a combination of wet clothes and the day spent on horseback.

The woman, for her part, does not seemed dressed for the clear but chilly weather. She's dressed modestly in a pair of boots, pants, and a light shirt that leaves her forearms exposed. She looks comfortable enough, despite the cold wind.

"The birds told me that you were coming, but they did not tell me that you were young people." Ardan is 32 but, with a healthy skin-care routine, looks younger. "But what do birds know? We use the expression 'bird-brained' as a pejorative for a reason."

She stops what she's doing to consider you more fully.

"Fishing?" she asks rhetorically. "There are fish in the river here, but the largest migration is in the fall. So many fish you could walk across the river without getting your feet wet! There is a smaller run in the spring. It's going on right now if you wish to catch some."

No, a fishing village.

"No, none nearby," she shakes her head. "If you follow The River all the way west to the coast, you will find one, but that would take me a week to walk. I am slowing down, and Pepe is even slower."

Pepe?

"My mule!" she says with a notable hint of pride. "Slow as a slug and grumpy as a gorilla with gas. Will kick the jaw off a jackal."

She considers your horses. Her eyes stop when she looks at Wolf. She puts down her things and approaches. Without asking, she strokes Wolf under the chin.

"My, you are a pretty one," she coos. (Ardan can feel Wolf sigh with pleasure.) "With a steed such as this you could be there in, mmm, two days."

Her name?

"Matilda Jane. You may call me Matilda. Or Jane. Or Maddy. 'Mad Maddy', some would say, but that would be rude of a new acquaintance."

Wanderer whinnies and paws at the ground jealously. She was seemingly getting tired of Wolf getting all the attention. "Hush, you!" Adrasta hisses at the mare. Wanderer snorts in answer.

Adrasta turns back to Matilda and smiles politely. "I see... we've still quite a ways to go. Do you know where we might seek shelter for the night? We've been camping for the last few nights and a roof under which we could dry our gear would be most welcome."

"Shelter?" she asks. Again, it's difficult to tell if she's hard of hearing or if rhetorical questions are just how she responds to inquiries.

"No, no shelter," she shakes her head. "There's a trading post maybe a day, day-and-a-half that way." She indicates the direction from which you came.

"Pepe and I will be down by the river." She gestures toward the river you will need to cross to make it to the fishing village.

"Come," she says. "I'll catch you a fish."

She packs up her things, slings the easel under her arm, and then walks toward the river.

By the riverbank there is an old mule nibbling on some leaves. There is not much of a campsite that you can see; no fire, no tent, no bedroll. The woman puts her things down, scratches the mule's ears, then walks to the water. She wades in, unfazed by the cold flow. When she gets up to her knees, she bends over to stare intently at the water. Then SPLASH! Quick as an eagle, her hand snatches a large fish from the water. She smiles and walks back to the shore. The fish is about two feet long and must weigh at least 10 pounds. It thrashes around to free itself but can't escape the woman's cast-iron grip. She holds it out triumphantly, offering it to you.

Adrasta watches Matilda's technique with mild interest. She had seen people fish with a line, net, or spear before, but barehanded fishing was a new one. When the old woman offers her her catch, she gingerly accepts. It is cold and slippery, and it struggles against her grip with the desperation of the doomed. "Thank you..." Adrasta says uncertainly.

She looks at Ardan and Otto. "How about you malakias get a fire going while I gut this... trout?"

Adrasta carries the fish to a flat-ish stone, kneels, and lays the wriggling animal down. She holds it firmly with one hand and draws her xiphos with the other. A few quick cuts later and the fish is beheaded and sliced open. Adrasta stares at the fish's insides, her current hesitation contrasting sharply with the assuredness of her bladework. Back during her time with the Phalanx, her kitchen experience had mostly been limited to peeling potatoes. Guts were guts, however. Even if she didn't have much experience preparing fish, a chirurgeon's knowledge should serve her well in figuring out what had to be removed for consumption, right? She begins to remove the fish's internal organs.

"I mean no offense," she tells Matilda as she works, "but how have you and Pepe survived in the Wilderness so far? It's a dangerous place. Ever since we came here, my companions and I have been attacked by the local wildlife every other day. Griffons, keratops, mace-tailed bird-turtles..." Adrasta pulls the fish's heart out and tosses it into the river. She pauses for a moment, resting her bloody hands on the stone. She grins up at the old woman. "You're not going to try to stab us or crack our skulls while we're distracted, are you?" Her tone implies it is a joke, but she pays close attention to the Matilda's reaction.

The whole encounter puts Ardan at unease. The lone lady, far from civilisation, unprotected, without shelter. There is something off about her. He had noticed all too well in the last days, that the Wilderness was relentless and unforgiven, nothing for a lone traveller, surely not for an older lady. He eyes her suspiciously at all times. Her fishing technique enforcing the suspicion even more. Who or what was she?
"Where are the amounts of fish you can walk over, when you need them?" , he comments, looking down to his still wet boots.

Matilda's uncertainty about the location of the village makes Ardan nervous. He was pushed forward by the thought of reaching the village soon. Another few days of travel seem like eternity.
"Why linger? Let's press on while we have light? You heard the lady, we still have a good way ahead of us."

Maddy looks like she doesn't fully understand the question.

"Animals don't bother me none," she says. "I get along with them and they get along with me."

A pause to consider.

"Perhaps with an exception for that fish. A salmon, by the by.

"No, the most dangerous thing in the Wilderness - by far - is mankind."

One imagines her eyeing Ardan suspiciously while he does the same. She does not respond directly to Adrasta's 'joke' about stabbing you or cracking your skulls.

"I survive because the animals watch over me. Pepe survives through spite and ill-will."

Pepe, perhaps hearing his name, flattens his ears and swishes his tail in a manner that looks annoyed.

Maddy sits on the rocks which, in addition to being hard and uneven, must be cold as well. She does not look discomforted. She watches Adrasta cook unblinkingly, like an owl might.

Otto wonders at who (or what) they've met. Maddy's lack of concern for danger, her general lack of preparation for the wilderness, and her off-hand comment about how the animals look after her are all quite disconcerting to him. Whoever or whatever she is, she is more than she seems.

The questions and comments from his companions dance around his own fears, and he can't hold his desire to know any longer.

"Maddy, we find ourselves in great danger from the nature around us, and that we pose a danger to nature, as well. We seem to antagonize each other, out of need. Fighting nature this way can only have one outcome, I fear. You seem to have reached this balance, and it is my hope to understand this better. What must we do, what must we learn, before the beasts and the rivers bring us to an untimely end?"

He looks at her hopefully, as he suspects that nature will eventually get the best of him and his friends.

"Yes, the forest is dangerous," Maddy agrees. "There are beasts that would do to you what you are doing to that salmon."

A gruesome comparison, as Adrasta sloppily disembowels the fish with a xiphos that's rather too large for the job.

"That is simply nature's way. You are quite correct that there can only be one outcome, young man. There are no peaceful deaths in the Wilderness, only violent ones. You die to be consumed, or over territory, or over mates."

This is a cheery thought. Maddy states is flatly, unemotionally.

"What must you learn? That nothing dies of old age here. If you wish to expire in bed, in your sleep, then seek out a city. There are many predators there too, but most want your money instead of your life."

She gazes out over the river valley, a pacific look on her face. She's at peace with the idea.

"I am past my reproductive age, so my fate is now of little consequence to the natural order. You, however, are still of breeding ages. Have you begun yet?"

Adrasta bursts out laughing. The thought of having a child, especially here and now, just seemed so ludicrous. She imaged fighting a griffon with a child in one arm and her xiphos in the other. It was certainly an amusing thought.

She had had close calls in the past, but a bit of worm fern root had nipped that in the bud, thankfully. A mercenary company was a poor place to raise a child, she had told herself. Secretly, she also worried she didn't have the instincts for it. Having grown up an orphan, she feared she wouldn't know how to handle a baby. "No, most definitely not. I haven't lived the kind of life for it."

Having finished gutting the fish, Adrasta lays out a grid of sticks over the fire. She then gently puts fillets on top. "How about you, Maddy? Any kids?"

Tecumseh wrote:

"That is simply nature's way. You are quite correct that there can only be one outcome, young man. There are no peaceful deaths in the Wilderness, only violent ones. You die to be consumed, or over territory, or over mates."

"Well, she seems at peace with 'kill or be killed', so she may not be so upset with what we've done to the beasts..."

Tecumseh wrote:

"I am past my reproductive age, so my fate is now of little consequence to the natural order. You, however, are still of breeding ages. Have you begun yet?"

Blushing is unusual for Otto, but the question brings a rosy hue to his cheeks. "Well, I....uhhh....no, I have not yet begun." He pauses. "Do you know someone?" he blurts out, instantly regretting it.

"My daughter is of a breeding age, aye," Maddy nods.

"She is, to my knowledge, not ritually bound to another. But in truth I do not see her often. She takes after her father and prefers the company of other people."

It is unclear if Maddy means "not being alone in the Wildnerness" or "people other than me". Either way, the notion does not seem to bother her.

"She lives to the west. Or she did the last I knew of her. You may encounter her in your journeys to the fisherfolk. Her name is Lybid. She is slim and sleek like a stream and she prefers her mates the same.

"Her father may attempt to have a say in the matter, but I taught her how to do things her own way."

Adrasta sits down in the grass next to the fire. She smirks as Maddy attempts to play matchmaker. "I wouldn't exactly call Otto 'slim and sleek', but who knows. Attraction's a funny thing. Hard to predict." She looks up at Otto's blushing face, her eyes alight with amusement. "What do you say, malakia? Ready to settle down? Shall we seek out this Lybid? Love is a worthy quest."

Otto's previously ruddy cheeks blossom into full-fledged red-face. He tries to thank her, but gets his words twisted, and "thank you, Maddy" becomes mixed with "thank you, ma'am".

"Thank you, Maddyam...maa'am...Maddy..."

He shuts up, thoroughly flummoxed.

Having already been confused by Maddy's demeanor and having trouble to place her, Ardan gets fully derailed by the course of the conversation. He shakes his head and turns to the horses, to make sure they are properly hobbled and won't run away. He mutters to himself "This Wilderness seems to drive people mad. Small wonder with all it houses. Last thing I need is Otto building a block house at the river. I'll never get out of this mad jungle."
After having checked the horses twice already, he no longer knows what to do with himself and starts throwing small stones into the water. His restlessness is very visible and he does not stick to any activity longer than a few moments. He walks up the river a bit, but never out of ear shot, conjures his sword, let's it disappear and conjures it again in some kind of deathly flickering show, then walks over to the fire and inspects the fish.

It only takes Adrasta a couple minutes to cook the salmon fillets. They are oily and rich and you can imagine bears getting fat on an abundant salmon run.

Once you're done with your mid-afternoon snack, you pack up and consider the river in front of you. The problem is that this river is quite as large as the one you crossed this morning and just as cold.

Maddy sees that you intend to leave. She looks neither happy nor disappointed. She points upstream, which happens to be pretty much north.

"There is a crossing in that direction. On horse you may reach it tonight, but if not then early tomorrow. From there, go straight west across the countryside until you reach the coast. There you will find your fisherfolk."

You have about four hours until sunset.

Adrasta gives Matilda a casual salute. "Thanks for the fish and the directions, Matilda. If we cross paths with your daughter, we'll let her know you're doing well."

With that, she turns Wanderer around and starts heading down towards the crossing. The fish had been a nice change of pace. Travel rations tended to be dry and bland, and their evening stews had been a mixed bag. Fresh grilled fish had been an unexpected luxury and, for now, Adrasta was content. She hums a song as she rides, the challenges of the past day all but forgotten.

<<Sunset - Day 9 - Early Spring - ??? - Wilderness>>

You leave Maddy and head straight north, following this new river as you look for a way to cross it.

The terrain is not bad. Fairly flat, nothing like what you were climbing before you reached the bridge with the entrepreneurs. It's mostly trees and grass and bushes, with the occasional field of wildflowers. Almost idyllic in a way.

You're still a bit chilly from your swim this morning and your less-than-impressive fire building skills. Ardan and Adrasta are no longer hypothermic but they're not exactly warm and comfortable. Maybe there's a stray thought that if you murder someone the Tenebrae will show up and make a big bonfire in your honor. A big, warm, cozy bonfire. Maybe with some sacrificial animals for feasting. That sounds okay.

The sun is getting low in the sky when you get to the crossing that Maddy mentioned: the river has been dammed by gigantic blocks of stone. The stones are huge, as if they were carved and put into place by giants. Otto is somewhat reminded of the masonry at the dwarven fortress, but that was flawless, the work of master artisans. This dam is similarly impressive, but much more brutal. It's about functionality, not artistry.

The river water seems to spill through gaps in the stonework which are apparently there for that specific reason. Behind the dam is a long, calm lake.

There's nobody around that you can see. Nobody is maintaining the damn nor taking advantage of the lake. It appears that you could walk the horses across the top of the dam if you so wished. Nothing seems like it would stop you.

"Finally! Seems like we are nearing something that resembles civilisation. Let's cross and camp on the other side. Not that overnight the dam breaks, or some of crowd decides they built it and charge us or something like that." with eager enthusiasm, Ardan steers Wolf towards the damn and looks back expectantly towards his companions.

Otto laughs at the thought of someone suddenly pitching camp and charging a toll. "Aye, we've seen stranger than that recently, I'll give you that."

But he eyes Ardan and Adrasta warily. The earlier crossing took a toll on them, and another spill into the drink just before nightfall seems a risk he'd rather not take.

"Would it hurt us to make a fire on this side of the river tonight? Water and crossings have a way of bringing man and beast alike. While nothing has accosted us on this side, who is to say nothing awaits us on the other? Let's get our rest here in a defensible place, out of simple caution."

Any kind of mishap could put them in grave peril tonight -- a horse takes a bad step on the rocky dam, a fight drops one of them in the water, a beast puts a scare into the horses. Otto weighs the risk and the reward, coming to the conclusion that there's no known reward for crossing tonight.

Adrasta looks across the river, trying to see which side might offer the better camping site. If the crossing went poorly, she didn't relish the thought of spending another day damp and cold. Having the night's fire to dry her clothes seemed a better option. "I'm with Ardan on this one. If the crossing goes poorly, I'd rather it be tonight than in the morning. I don't want to have to deal with the wet consequences for the whole day again."

moarhair wrote:

"I'm with Ardan on this one. If the crossing goes poorly, I'd rather it be tonight than in the morning. I don't want to have to deal with the wet consequences for the whole day again."

Otto nods and adds with a matter-of-fact shrug, "Luckily, you would not have to spend a whole day wet and cold. If you go in the water tonight, you may not see daybreak, as the cold will likely kill you before breakfast. Pity, I prefer not to eat breakfast alone."

He gives Adrasta a sidelong glance, but whether the look conveys amusement, chiding merriment, concern for her safety, or outright fear of what could happen, it's hard to tell. He's said his peace, and for all he knows, the crossing will be free of peril and no one will wind up in the water. Why they would want to push their luck, he does not know...

Adrasta chuckles, taking Otto's statement as gallows humor. "Then I guess we better watch our step. It would be a real tragedy if we were to inconvenience you."

She leads Wanderer to the dam. The stones look sturdy and well set. She turns back to look at Otto. "If I slip, tell the Tenebrae to make my pyre extra large." She flicks her horse's reins and leads it onto the dam. Thankfully, the blocks prove to be as stable as they looked and she makes it all the way to the other shore.

Adrasta looks at her companions. Ardan seemed eager to cross, so she had no doubt he would. "If you don't want to have breakfast alone, Otto, looks like you have no choice but to follow!"

Knowing Wolf for the well trained horse that he is, Ardan does not give the dam much thought. Having crossed it behind Adrasta, he looks back whether Otto is following and then starts gathering wood for the fire. Once enough wood and kindle is ready, he lights the fire and sets up the tents, determined to sleep warm.

moarhair wrote:

"If I slip, tell the Tenebrae to make my pyre extra large." She flicks her horse's reins and leads it onto the dam. Thankfully, the blocks prove to be as stable as they looked and she makes it all the way to the other shore.

"If you don't want to have breakfast alone, Otto, looks like you have no choice but to follow!"

"You leave me with a difficult choice -- cozy bonfire and a lonely breakfast, or no warmth but for the companionship! Which to choose, which to choose... Fortunately, I am of the 'flagon half full' variety, and I look forward to having breakfast with the both of you." With that, Otto prods his horse forward, holding the reins of the pack horse as he goes.

You trot across the top of the dam. It is slick and requires you to nudge your horses along, but you successfully do so. The crossing is relatively easy.

You make it to the other side. There is ample fresh water from the lake that has formed behind the dam, plus plenty of wood for a fire. The terrain is flat and grassy. It's as comfortable of a place to make camp that you could ask for.

<<Sunset - Day 10 - Early Spring - By the Dam - Wilderness>>

You set up camp. It's a tranquil spot. There's some additional white noise from the water spilling over the dam. Although relaxing, it would help cover up the noise of anyone or anything sneaking up on you.

Luckily, no one does. Or, if they do, they don't do anything to you. You wake up in the morning with nothing missing: all your limbs and possessions are present and accounted for. The horses are there, munching on grass. The ground is quite wet, either from early-morning dew or from a subtle spray being sent up by the water falling over the dam and being blow to you by the wind.

Actually, the weather seems to be warming up. It didn't freeze overnight and the morning air is comparatively balmy. However it is very windy, with a steady breeze and strong gusts that would make using a bow very difficult.

A beautiful falcon. Proud, strong, soaring above the trees. Draerngromlaes had tried to get close to him, bind him, all day, but the bird was too alert. Every time he had gotten close something had startled the bird and his hunt had started from the beginning.
Now it is late. He has to rush and check the traps for any prey and reset them in case they got triggered without yielding their promise.
He has enough food for tonight and the day after and the winter has passed which made hunting much easier. The wind plays tricks on the arrows, but it shouldn't last too long and die down.
Suddenly he hears voices through the forest. His head jerks up. Had they finally found him? It has been more than six years, or was it seven?, since he had run. But surely they are searching for him. They want to put the deserter to the sword, otherwise others will run as well. Instinctively he crouches, his bow suddenly in his hand, an arrow nocked. But he cannot see the source of the voices. They have to be close, but the thicket can hide someone standing right next to you, if you are in the right spot. Draern knows, he has used this fact many a times. Slowly he crawls forward close to the row of shrubs to his left and peeks through.
There are three people, on horses, riding north. They don't seem like people living here, they are from the South. Draern looks for weapons and one of the men and the woman are armed. Could they be bounty hunters, coming for him? Forgotten are his traps and his prey and he follows the group in hearing distance. Better keep and eye on them until he knows more.

Otto had emerged from the tent, studying his breath on the chilly morning air. "A good bit better than yesterday", he says, clearing his throat as he speaks.

"A fishing pole would certainly come in handy, stout enough to dangle Maddy from a rope. Her hands were better than hooks, I'd wager, and we'd have fish for days. Might not hurt to get a look from on high, either. Who cares to do that while I break camp?"

Otto turns to take a look back at the rocky dam, and the flow of the river. Water was difficult to carve, strangely, for someone who's been around it so much. He reflects on that, and mentally commits himself to improving. It just wouldn't do for a ship-builder to portray water clumsily...

Adrasta, sitting near their struggling fire, chuckles at the thought of Maddy being lowered over the river at the end of a fishing pole. She couldn't argue with Otto's assessment. Maddy seemed a better fisherman barehanded than most were with nets and poles. "Aye, with her help we would grow fat like autumn bears."

"I'll find a tall tree and take a look," Adrasta says, happy to be spared the chore of packing up in exchange for some exercise. She stands and looks around, spotting a likely candidate. She makes her way to the tree and starts to climb.

<<Sunrise - Day 11 - Early Spring - By the Dam - Wilderness>>

Adrasta climbs a tall tree. Her muscles are rested and strong and her chosen tree has perfectly-sized branches at perfectly-placed intervals. It's remarkably easy and she wonders, just for a moment, if she could give Naesala a run for her money. Or a climb for her money in this case.

Getting to the top of the tree, Adrasta achieves a commanding view of the surrounding terrain, such as it is. There isn't much in the way of landmarks or man-made features other than the dam below. At this point, the river you just crossed runs north-south. (It flows south until its a tributary to The River that divides the Wilderness from civilized lands on the other side.)

To the west are some very modest hills. Nothing significant; they all look easily manageable either on foot or on horseback. There are no obvious obstacles in your way other than lots and lots of trees. But those are easily avoidable.

While perched on top of the tree, a falcon lands next to Adrasta. It's a regal-looking thing, yet inquisitive and almost friendly in its demeanor. It hops toward Adrasta, inspecting her. Before Adrasta can react, the falcon hops up onto her shoulder, and then climbs onto her head. It seems to know not to use its talons; its touch is surprisingly gentle. There, perched on her head, the falcon surveys its terrain.

It gives Adrasta one final, inquisitive look before flying off, in search of something (or someone) else.

Adrasta stays as still as possible throughout the encounter with the falcon. It was well behaved, but it was still a wild animal and she didn't want to start her day with a face-clawing while precariously perched. She is relieved when it flies off. She watches it soar for a moment, envying its speed, grace and superior vantage point.

Adrasta climbs down and walks back to the camp. "I just had the strangest encounter with a flacon... or a hawk? Some bird. It landed right next to me, then climbed on my head! I got off easy, it didn't void itself or try to mate with my hair. I guess it was just curious..." She chuckles and shakes her head in wonder.

Adrasta sits back down next to the fire. "The land ahead is mostly hills and woods. It shouldn't be hard trekking, but we'll need to keep an eye out for predators. Lots of places for them to hide."

<<Midmorning - Day 11 - Early Spring - Forest West of the Dam - Wilderness>>

After packing up camp, you mount the horses and head west.

As Adrasta saw, the terrain is covered in tall evergreen trees but is mostly flat. There's some gentle rolls but the hills are all very modest and easy for the horses to navigate.

Midmorning, after a couple of hours of walking, Adrasta notices something: a pack of predators. Closer inspection reveals a large pack of grey wolves. A normal pack size is between 4 and 9 but Adrasta counts at least 11. This usually only happens in areas of high prey abundance. Which, Adrasta notes, includes you.

Adrasta's sharp eyes mean you have enough advance notice to have a good 150 feet between you and the pack. But the pack has smelled you (or, more likely, your horses) and is now very interested in your presence. They are alert and starting to investigate...

Draern watches the group break their camp. The girl seems to be the most agile, Draern makes a mental note, in case they ever found him. When she talks about the upcoming terrain, the tension in him reduces a bit. It seems they have not yet spotted him. But when she continues talking about he contact with the falcon, his falcon, jealousy spreads in his chest. It had been a bitch of a day and she just sits in a tree and his falcon lands on her.
Why do people use the word 'bitch' for negative expressions?, he starts wondering. A bitch is only a female dog and dogs are man's best friend they say. How did the female dog ever get pushed into that meaning? he realises that he lost focus on the scene ahead. Something was suddenly happening, the girl changed her demeanour, but Draern could not tell why. There was nothing ahead of them, did the group have a fight? Damn it, Draerngromlaes, focus. Don't get lost in your thoughts. That never worked out for you. Why do you always dream away and then miss what's happening around you? That will kill you one day! Was that why the falcon got away over and over again? Did you lose focus again?
DRAERN! YOU'RE DOING IT AGAIN! FOCUS! Feverishly, Draern tries to discern what the change of behaviour is about. The grip around his bow tightens.

Adrasta takes her shield in her offhand as her eyes scan the treeline. "We've got company. Wolves, a rough dozen." In most places, wolves steered clear of people. Humans were dangerous creatures. But here, in the Wilderness, it seemed they hadn't learned that lesson yet. Adrasta grits her teeth. If they needed instruction, she'd be happy to oblige. "We should find a place where they can't surround us to face them. A bend in the river, perhaps?"

The wolves spread out to surround you and herd you. They are indeed wary of the humans, but it seems like they would be content to drag down and consume one of the horses. Even that old draft horse, which looks a little tough and stringy.