Chapter III - Into the Unknown

Wolves! That is what he has missed. Now he can also see them spread out around the group. It is early spring and the packs are still hungry. This could end up badly for the bounty hunters. And for himself.
Draern takes a deep breath, closes his eyes briefly and concentrates on the peace of nature around him. He smells the earthen smell of the damp forest ground, feels the faint brush of wind in his beard and listens to the birds and leaves. Then he opens his eyes again and crawls towards the pack of wolves.

Spoiler:

He tries to get between the group of strangers and the wolves,whilst trying to find the alpha male. If he can calm it, the rest is most likely going to follow.

An unfamiliar figure inserts himself into the fight.

As the pack is trying to surround the horses and heroes, he must embed himself into the troop. Every time he takes a step forward toward a wolf, it pauses and then retreats. He repeats this process around the circle. The wolves eye him cautiously but then decide that they're not hungry enough to press the issue. They turn and retreat into the woods, leaving the humans and horses unmolested.

Adrasta had drawn her mace and was about to charge the wolves when the strange man emerged from the woods and chased them away. She pulls on Wanderer's reins to keep her in her spot. Her eyes scan the treeline, looking to make sure they hadn't traded one group of ambushers for another, but it looked like the man was here alone. She turns back to him.

"Why, thank you, kind stranger." Adrasta glances at Otto and Ardan. "It's starting to look like we're the only ones here who have problems with the local wildlife." She chuckles and shakes her head, before looking at the man again. "My name is Adrasta, and the two damoiseaux-in-distress are Otto and Ardan. How may we address our savior?" She asks with exaggerated formality.

Otto delays his dismount as he spies the bearded figure emerging from the trees. "By Freya's smelly feet!" he breathes to himself, watching the wolves as they go.

He sits astride his horse, still a might slack-jawed as Adrasta is well into her introductions. "We are in your debt, stranger, and you have my thanks."

The wolves calm down and retreat. As they disappear into the woods, Draern notices a strong wolf trailing the pack. He stares at it and the wolf stops and turns his head to him. Draern slowly walks up to him, kneels and whispers something into his ears. Then he gets back and turns around as if he doesn't know where he is. The wolf stays and does not follow the pack.
After he had been fully focused on the wolves, he suddenly realises that he left his hiding and cowers slightly. Then the strangers start speaking. Maybe they haven't recognised him.
Confused, he even forgets to give a fake name "I... I am Draerngromlaes, erm.. You are welcome?"
Could it be that they are not after him? "What brings you here that the wildlife is troubling you? The animals... Not everybody understands them. This is their land, they sometimes defend it fiercely." Does he dare ask? "Are you searching for something or someone?"

Adrasta eyes the wolf suspiciously, but it seems calm enough. When the man introduces himself, she blinks. She wasn't sure she'd be able to repeat the man's name. She grins. "Your name is quite a mouthful, friend. Mind if I call you Draern? I'm afraid I might unhinge my jaw if I try to spit out the whole thing."

"We are new to the region and just trying to see what's around. We were told there was a fishing village in this direction," she says, gesturing vaguely forward. "Were you heading there as well? If so, you're welcome to join us. We could use an ambassador to the animal kingdom."

The wolf stares at Draerngromlaes expectantly.

Beastmaster magics can be comparatively subtle. None of your flashy elementalists conjuring ice or flame, or even your showy healers reattaching limbs and raising the dead.

But there is one immutable law of the beastmasters: a companion needs a name. Without a name to focus the beastmaster's arts, the creature cannot be controlled.

The wolf continues to stare at Draerngromlaes. Draern can feel its mind pulling away, thinking of its pack. Draern must give it a name to complete the binding.

Draern notices the waning focus of the wolf. A name, what is his or her name?
Stay, Rima. You will return to your pack later. I need your help.

Turning to Adrasta, now fully confused thanks to the constantly shifting focus, he answers "Animal Kingdom? I'm from Llaigis." Draerns hard pronunciation of his Cant underlines his roots. "I am not headed anywhere specific." keeping an eye on these people might be smart. Find out who and what they are "I could come with if you let me."

Thelonius wrote:

"I could come with if you let me."

"Let you? I would dare say we could not prevent you. A man with such talents can come and go as he pleases. We, on the other hand, have had enough problems with beasts, and cannot seem to avoid coming to blows with them. Perhaps you know of the fishing village we seek, and we would welcome your talents to ease our travels across this wilderness."

Otto's words feel awkward in his mouth. In his attempt to be welcoming, he is unsure of whether he's given offense. Those thoughts don't linger, however, as he tries to capture the scene in his mind's eye -- this stranger, and the wolf.

"A village you say?" Draern hasn't seen a human soul for weeks, the toll or price of living self-sufficiently in the woods. Where would this village be? Being on the run, he only came to this area recently. "Can't say I do."
Draern inspects the rest of the group. The small kid is oddly silent and looks worn out. They have an unusual amount of horses given the size of the group. And the horses are not the usual farm mares, but strong and proud horses. These are no simple farmers or traders, better stay alert.

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

You begin traveling west as a group. The horses are understandably wary of the wolf in their midst, but the mere presence of Draern seems to be able to put the horses at ease.

You start climbing some of the hills to the west that Adrasta saw from her perch in the tree top. They are relative gentle and aren't difficult to navigate, especially on horseback.

Near the top of one, you find some stone foundations. Clearly there was a modest village here in the past, but the walls and roofs of the buildings are all gone. The forest has largely reclaimed the space. It has been decades if not centuries since anyone lived here.

Adrasta brings Wanderer to a stop and surveys the ruins. Her stomach was aching, the sun was high in the sky, and their new companion had been walking since joining up with them. "This looks like a decent place to stop and eat." As she looks at the others, seeking their opinions, her eyes linger on Draern's wolf. "We wouldn't want some of us to go hungry for too long, would we?"

Otto brings his pony to a halt and dismounts, giving the horse a few gentle pats on the neck. He wasn't born to riding, but has come to appreciate the willingness of their horses to bear their burdens. Seeing the hungry look of the pack of wolves made him keenly aware of their importance, and what the little band would do without them. He steps to the pack horse, and with a scritch behind its large ears, he speaks quietly to the horse. "Dromond. That's what I'll call you. Proud ship of the wilderness."

In a louder voice, "What say you we look after these buildings before we let our guard down? Old buildings have a way of hiding things that don't want to be found, and no one likes nasty surprises in the middle of lunch, eh?" He leads Dromond to a nice looking patch of grass to graze, grabs his hand axe, and heads toward the nearest ramshackle building.

Draern and Rima spend the time walking on the fringes of the group. Sometimes ahead, sometimes falling behind, sometimes in the woods to the side of the trail. It is not really clear why, but it is hard to catch him to exchange words.
As they approach the ruins Draern kneels besides Rima, pets her fur and scratches her under the jaw. He whispers to her, inaudible to anybody around "Please, Rima, go in a wide circle around the camp. Warn me if there are humans. If you find prey, I will come and hunt now. Latest tonight we will hunt."

Spoiler:

As the wolf pounces off into the woods he turns around to Adrasta. She is the first he talked to and he mistrusts her the least. "Don't mind Rima. She will not harm you. Unless you anger her. Don't do that."
He sits down and takes out his waterskin to refresh himself.

Adrasta dismounts from Wanderer and sets the mare out to pasture in between the overgrown ruins. She sits down on the remains of a nearby stone wall and takes a bag of nuts and dried fruits from her bag. She grins at Draern's comments. "And what exactly offends wolves? I'm afraid I don't know much about lupine etiquette." She pops a handful of trail mix into her mouth, then holds the bag of dry goods out to the wild man. Sharing food was a good way to bond with new comrades.

"I wouldn't bet against me if I did end up pissing her off, though, but I'd rather avoid the ordeal."

Otto returns from his foray among the ruined buildings to find the others sitting down for a midday snack.

"Nothing should jump out from the buildings at least", he says with a shrug, then approaches Caravel as she grazes. He rummages through the packs for some travel rations, some bread and water, then joins his companions.

He removes the old carving tools from his pouch, showing them to Adrasta. "Only the gods know if they are any good for carving, but perhaps I can replace the handles and shine them up a big. Lovely set, even if they are a bit rustic..."

He offers some bread to Draern, removes one of his wooden disks for carving, then holds another piece of bread in his teeth. He tests the edge of the old carving tools against the disk, and shakes his head. "A little sharpening first, eh?" He puts the tools away again, and resumes his munching.

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

After breaking for lunch, the afternoon proceeds much like the morning. In terms of travel, at least. You don't meet any more packs of wolves.

The terrain goes up a little, it goes down a little. Beyond small ridges and equally small valleys, it is largely flat forest. Otto can't help but think that it would be a tremendous resource for any water-faring nation, as the trees are tall and straight and strong. They would make many fine ships.

If Rima is distressed to be separated from her pack, she does not show it. Her bond with Draern is immediate and as familiar as her own family. She jogs alongside him loyally, much as a hunting dog raised from birth. The smallest nod or gesture will send her off to investigate whatever has caught Draern's easily-distracted eye. At one point she procures a cottontail rabbit on her own, dutifully presenting it to Draern first.

The sun begins to set in the west but still there is no sign of the coast. There are dozens of streams and rivers of various sizes. As you're getting toward the end of the day, looking for a place to stop, you find a slightly larger river with a curious feature: there is a covered bridge crossing it. The bridge has walls and a roof, forming a tunnel of sorts, which would allow the bridge to be passable in all weather. Otto's eye can tell that the timbers are weathered but must have been constructed within the last 15 to 20 years. Yet, you can see no one around who might have constructed such a thing, nor is there any obvious settlement that would benefit from it. If there was a path or a trail leading to or from it, it has long been lost to the creeping landscape.

There is some old debris in the bridge that suggests it might have been used for shelter by a passing adventurer or party like your own, but even that is quite old and has clearly been there a year or more. There is no rain at the moment, nor are there any rainclouds on the horizon, but there are some stiff winds brewing.

Adrasta looks around, trying to see if this bridge has a welcoming committee, but it appears to be abandoned. "Looks like we'll be able to use this one for free. What a bargain!"

"Maybe we can spend the night in there. I don't fancy putting up our tents with this wind working against us." She turns to Otto and raises an eyebrow. "Unless your craftman's eye sees something to worry about?"

moarhair wrote:

"Maybe we can spend the night in there. I don't fancy putting up our tents with this wind working against us." She turns to Otto and raises an eyebrow. "Unless your craftman's eye sees something to worry about?"

With a shrug, "Looks safe to me. Let's check for nesting bugs, as well. Hornets like old structures." And with that, Otto checks around the bridge, and underneath, before setting up camp within the confines of the bridge.

An inspection reveals no hornets nor termites nor any other obvious pests. There is a barn owl nest in the rafters - about 12 feet up - that's currently occupied. The nesting owl looks less-than-delighted to see you there, but doesn't attack. It seems to tolerate your presence as long as you keep your distance. As long as you stay on the ground, the peace should last.

The bridge is a mixed blessing. The walls help keep the wind off you, which is appreciated as the winds have accelerated and are now blowing steadily. Otherwise the walls of your tents would be beating like a snare drum. The downside is that the wooden slats are much harder and are nowhere near as comfortable as the soft dirt and tuft that you're accustomed to on the forest floor. You can gather a little moss to act as a cushion before the light fails, but it's not going to be the same.

The horses look equally conflicted. The want to be out of the wind, but they also need to lay down to get the REM sleep they require. The wooden slats of the bridge appear to be too hard for their comfort. They reluctantly lie down outside in the wind, although their herd instincts are clearly at work: one always stands watch while the others rest. Rima's presence is making them understandably wary.

The next question is what to do about the fire. You can build it just outside the mouth of bridge and set your tents up as close as possible, but the wind might extinguish it or rob you of any meaningful heat. Or you can try to reuse the improvised fire circle - some dirt on the bottom, a circle of stones around it - that the previous adventurers left. They clearly used it without burning the bridge down. Surely you could manage the same?

The bridge seems out of place and looks like an uncomfortable night. Draern is unsure how this will pan out, but first things first. He promised Rima to hunt and his stomach also sounds the wish for a richer dinner. "I'll be back." He turns to Rima and nods and she knows what will come next.
They walk into the golden forest, lit by the evening sun and start to search for prey. Rima scents something quickly. She leads Draern deeper into the woods, slowly approaching a clearing. It is lit up brightly, by the sun, the treeline around it like a black and green wall. The clearing is full of small flowers and on it grazes a magnificent deer. Draern nocks an arrow and kneels down to get a firmer stand. He lifts up the bow and slowly pulls the string. Just when Draern let's the arrow fly, the deer seems to have caught scent of them and speeds off into the woods.
Rima starts after it, but quickly realises her futile effort and returns disappointed.
Draern swears under his breath and the unusual duo continues on its way. Alas, they cannot find the trail of the deer anymore. Disappointed they turn around and start heading back to the group, when suddenly they hear cracking sounds from a shrub towards their right. Draern freezes instantly and Rimas neck hair stand up. Slowly, Draern pulls up his bow an nocks an arrow, when a medium sized boar steps out of the underbrush. Instinctively Draern steps back two steps. The boar, a young and strong beast lifts up its head and stares at the two.
Then everything happens very fast. The boar starts towards Draern and an arrow leaves the string of Draerns bow. As it hits the boar in the shoulder, the next arrow is already being set on the bow and moments later travels towards the boar. It finds its target on the chest, but the board continues to charge towards Draern and before the third arrow can be drawn, it reaches the hunter. Vicious tusks try to slice the man open, but he evades them with a quick turn to his left. In that moment, Rima jumps from the boars side and catches it at the throat. Her jaw closes around the boars flesh like clamps. The boar fights fiercely, injuring Rima on her side, but Draern, having had enough time to get to his feet and reach for his bow, sends two more arrows into the side of their prey. It continues fighting, but its efforts become visibly weaker until it accepts its inevitable fate and slumps to the ground. Quickly, with experienced hands, Draern cuts its throat and let's it bleed. Then, he tends to Rimas wound. Luckily it is only superficial and after having cleaned it with water from a nearby creek, she seems to not notice it anymore.
Draern cuts a strong stick, ties the boars legs across it and then carries their prize towards the camp.
The boar is heavy and Draerns shoulders are aching fiercely by the time he arrives, but the prospect of a good dinner and a a nice hide more than make up for it.
"We caught us some dinner!" he announces their return and then starts gathering firewood.
While the fire is being set up, Draern starts skinning the boar with his knife and soon after a lively little fire crackles in the small fireplace and the boar is turning on a stick above the flames.

Once the horses are set to graze, Adrasta helps Otto and Ardan set up camp. Once Draern has disappeared into the forest and is well out of earshot, she approaches the two men. "So, what do you both think about our new companion? He seems nervous, but I suppose it's understandable when you're travelling with strangers. Still, we should have one of us up at all times tonight. Sleeping throats are easy to slit."

+++

Adrasta has settled in near the fire by the time Draern gets back. A slow smile spreads across her face as she eyes the boar. "Nice catch! I knew we let you stick around for a reason." She turns to Otto and Ardan. "Fresh fish first, now fresh pork? Maybe our luck has finally turned!"

Adrasta feeds the fire and watches Draern prepare the boar for cooking. She notes the precise, practiced cuts. The ease with which the man disembowels the animal. How natural the knife looks in his hand. She elbows Otto and cocks her chin in the hunter's direction to direct the craftsman's attention. She then rubs her neck as a reminder the words they'd exchanged in the other man's absence. She bares her teeth in a humorless grin, then shuffles a bit to settle in and watch Draern finish skinning the boar.

<<Night - Day 11 - Early Spring - The Covered Bridge - Wilderness>>

You eat well. The roasted boar is a pleasant change of pace from your standard rations. There is plenty of cool, fresh water in the river. Then you sleep.

Adrasta, heeding her own advice, takes the first watch to make sure that Draern doesn't slit any throats in the middle of the night. She watches him sleep with Rima alongside of him.

The wind continues to pick up. It's not howling but there's a firm and steady breeze in the trees with occasional gusts that are strong enough cause them to wave in darkness.

Adrasta sees moving lights. They are to the east, the direction from which you came. A moment of observation reveals that they are torches. Someone or something is carrying torches. There are at least six torches, but it's hard to say for sure as they blink in and out of sight as they pass behind the tree trunks of the forest.

They are headed in your direction.

Adrasta throws some dirt onto the fire to douse the flames. She then wakes the others by gently shaking them, starting with Otto and steering clear of Rima when she gets to Draern. "We've got company. At least 6 people with torches, maybe more. We're probably better off staying in here. If we have to fight, the bridge will provide a chokepoint. Let's get the horses behind us."

She quietly moves out of the bridge's cover and starts to wrangle the horses, then leads them to the other side of the bridge. Once that's done, she retrieves her shield and her spear, and waits for the strangers to arrive.

Adrasta's quick actions move the horses to (relative) safety behind you.

The torches continue to approach. It's clear that the party is headed for the bridge that you now find yourself guarding.

Otto rubs the sleep out of his eyes. "Traveling by torchlight?  Are these boys in a hurry?"

He sleepily takes up his axe, seeing that Adrasta had already moved horses and doused the fire.

"Is anybody just dying to defend this bridge, or shall we just let them through? The faster we let them through, the faster we can get back to sleep."

Draern is awake and alert immediately. A talent he learned through years of living alone in the Wilderness. Could this be the bounty hunters? Not knowing is dangerous. "I'll be back." Draern grabs his bow and leaves the bridge towards the approaching party, Rima follows him.
He silently walks a small arc to approach the unknown group from the flank. Hiding behind the vegetation, Draern sneaks up to the torch bearers just enough to see who they are, but stays hidden. Rimas instincts and sense of danger are felt by Draern the same way as if they were his.

Adrasta scoffs. "I'm certainly not planning on collecting a toll. If all they want is to get across, I say we let them. However, our experiences in the Wilderness so far make me doubt it'll be that simple."

Adrasta hears Drearn mutter something, but by the time she turns to ask him to repeat it, he has disappeared in the nearby woods. She opens her mouth to call out to him, but thinks better of it, and shuts it close. Maybe these people were the man's comrades, bandits who had sent one of their own to gather intelligence on their next target, or maybe he was going to scout an approaching enemy. Either way, it was better to have him out there than huddled up on the bridge with her, Otto, and Ardan.

She glances back at the swashbuckler. "Ardan, get a lantern ready. We're going to need light and you're the only one that fights with a free hand."

Ardan, not excited about yet another unnecessary fight that will hold them back from reaching the village, frowns at the whole situation. When Adrasta instructs him to grab a lantern he follows the soldiers orders and waits. What else was there to do? They couldn't run. Where to? In the city he would be gone and hidden in two quick moments, no fight required. Here in the Wilderness he was naked and exposed and utterly incapable of handling himself, as becomes more and more obvious to himself. What a gloriously stupid idea to come out here.

Draern slips away swiftly and surely into the darkness.

The rustling trees create some background noise that make it easy to disguise his steps. He's not concerned about being found; his worry is that the wind will challenge his accuracy with the bow.

Draern has enough time to get away before being noticed, but not enough time to see what's approaching too much before the rest of the group can.

Through the forest charge a dozen Anakim, monstrous humanoids with grotesque features. These are ur-Anak, all over six feet tall and two hundred pounds of muscle. Their facial features - what you can see that aren't covered by helmets - are skull-like. Their teeth are fangs and their hands have claws. Their muzzles look like beasts and their skin is pockmarked with lesions.

They travel in pairs, one female and one male, in a column two wide and six deep. In each pair, one of them is carrying a torch in one hand and a savage-looking blade in the other, usually a machete or a falcata. The other Anak of each pair carries a two-handed weapon, like a war axe or a great sword.

They travel quickly, at fast march that's more like a job. They're not wearing backpacks and are obviously not travelers. Their protection is pieced together from assorted chunks of armor and looks like it has been scavenged from others. They wear mismatched helmets and are covered in war paint.

They get to the clearing by the river. They freeze about thirty feet away from the bridge. The one in the front shouts a word in a coarse language and there's a rumble of discontent from the others.

Ardan:

They sniff and they snort like a bull about to charge but, for whatever reason, they don't immediately attack. Something is giving them a moment of pause.

Ardan whispers to Adrasta and Otto "He says they would like to stay for dinner." After a short pause he adds "... but not the way we would appreciate, us being the dinner and all."

Draern has only heard horror stories of the Anakim, the type that parents tell misbehaving children in order to frighten them into compliance. They are all cannibals, they impale their enemies and spit-roast them over a fire, if they don't have any enemies then they'll do it to their friends, etc.

Adrasta knows a little more and has heard that the Anakim are filled with "the Hate" for humans and demi-humans. Scholars disagree on what triggers it, but Anakim seem to loathe all humans. They have a fearsome reputation as individual fighters although collectively they can be overcome by exploiting their inherent aversion to cooperation. A tightly-knit, coordinated band can triumph, even when outnumbered. Controlling the chokepoint of the bridge gives Adrasta some confidence, especially given the lack of ranged weapons among the Anakim. Their size may work against them, as only two or three would be able to fight side-by-side among the confines of the bridge.

Ardan knows some more. He knows that the most remarkable among the Anakim - perhaps 1 of 100 - have sufficient will to resist the Hate. Some Anakim are even able to integrate into human society, although society is (understandably) wary of them. Generally speaking, the only effective shackle for an Anak’s instinct is sheer terror. A leader or opponent who can display overwhelming force and a certain ability to slaughter them will provoke a response of groveling obedience and abject submission. This submission will tend to last precisely until the Anak no longer feels this awe, at which point the bloodshed begins again.

With a voice that tries to sound much more confident than he feels, Ardan addresses the Anaks. "Farewell. You shall pass the bridge unharmed, if you so desire. But I must insist you leave and my guardians unharmed. Otherwise I would be forced to sound my horn and raise the forces of nature that guard us.

Now please pass and begone."

The Anakim look a bit perplexed. That's Anak Speech coming out of Ardan, which smoothies don't often speak. Ardan's Anak isn't the best so maybe he just told them to go have conjugal relations with their mothers. Of course, given Anak psychology, that might actually be a prudent and effective thing to say.

In the end, you move to the side, they give you a wide berth and eye you warily as they pass. They cross run onto the bridge, over the river, and off into the night, their footsteps and torches receding in the distance.

The Anakim pass Otto, who eyes them warily. He watches them cross the bridge, prepares to act in case they pay too much attention to their horses, and breathes a sigh of relief as they pass the horses without molestation.

"An unseemly lot...", he says to no one in particular.

Unhappily, his eyes follow the group, moving in the same direction the little group plans to traverse tomorrow. He wonders what carnage he'll find in their wake. His eyes settle on Ardan, realizing there's more to this man than he can begin to comprehend. Feeling a bit like a simpleton who's just wandered into the wild world, "Thank you, Ardan, that may have just saved our lives. Where did you learn such a tongue?"

Adrasta is reluctant to give up their tactically advantageous position. On the other side, they'd be exposed and wouldn't be able to control the engagement in the same way. The bridge gave them a chance. "Are you sure?" she asks Ardan. She only relents once he confirms his certainty. Ardan usually seemed full of doubts, but in this, he projected confidence. "Alright..." Adrasta says, reluctantly.

As Anakim pass by, Adrasta grips her shield and spear tightly. In the light, they would have been white. To her surprise, the vicious-looking humanoids pass by without attacking. She watches them until the light from their torches disappears into the night and the sound of their footsteps cannot be heard over the sound of the river's rushing water.

Adrasta leads the horses back across the bridge, then rejoins the others. She grins at Ardan and curtsies. "Ambassador Ardan Silvertongue, thank you for gracing us with your expertise and companionship." She claps Ardan on the shoulder in a show of camaraderie, then sits back down next to the firepit to finish her watch.

Ardan keeps a serious face while the Anakim pass, but one can see the tension in his grimace. Once the last one is out of sight, he collapses and starts sobbing uncontrollably, as the stress and tension leaves his body, leaving no control over his emotions. He had just gambled all of their lives on a hunch, some hearsay he thought he remembered. It was not the smartest move, but a lucky one.
After the several minutes he starts composing himself and just sighs "Holy shit!"

Draern follows the whole scene from what does not feel like a safe distance. He is already sure the group is doomed and he is to continue by himself again, when the small man suddenly starts his speech. Full of awe, Draern stays with open mouth, as the Anakim peacefully walk over the bridge and disappear. He has underestimated Ardan. What is he? So far he seemed like he is out of his element, a fish struggling on the shore. But now Draern knows, he is some kind of priest of an entity from the woods.
This man is not a bounty hunter. Respectful, Draern comes back to the camp and kneels next to the sobbing priest. A weird effect after his spell, but certainly part of the ritual, calling his masters. "You have my thanks, and I shall serve you and your masters."

It takes the better part of the night to convince Draern that Ardan is not a priest of a nature god, but rather a gambler with a quick tounge. But noone can think of sleep after this event anyways.

<<Dawn - Day 12 - Early Spring - The Covered Bridge - Wilderness>>

The night is rough. Sleep is hard to come by due to adrenaline. The wind makes a racket. Your mind is never fully at ease because the trees are so loud that you wouldn't be able to hear approaching footsteps. What's the stop the Anakim from extinguishing their torches so they could just sneak up on you?

Draern finds a little comfort in knowing that Rima could probably smell them coming, as the wind is from the west, the direction that the Anakim ran off. Adrasta maybe finds a little bit of reprieve in knowing that the bridge is still an effective choke point that could be used to limit the Anakim's numerical advantage. But still...

The winds break in the middle of the night, so there are a few hours before dawn when you're more confident you could hear someone coming. The morning light is sharp and cold, the temperatures just a few degrees above freezing. But there isn't a cloud in the sky and there's no rain on the horizon, so at least you're just cold, not wet and cold.

Another frozen morning, another morning of Otto beating the cold out of his arms and legs. But they are alive and undamaged after the Anakim's passing, something to be grateful for. He gathers some nettles from along the bank for kindling, and starts a fire for breakfast. He's in no particular hurry to catch the Anakim, but he does want to know their purpose.

"Ardan, in your brief conversation last night, did you get any sense of their urgency, and what they were up to? We may be needed in their wake, I fear."

"They said nothing. Just mentioned our flesh. The Anaks are not a chatty bunch from what I know, but frankly, I'll be happy if I don't have to ever see them again."

Ardan digs his teeth into the reheated dinner, along with Draern and Rima.

"Look on the bright side. Either you'll get your wish and this'll have been a single strange encounter, or we'll get to see our Tenebrae friends again," Adrasta says. Should they meet the Anakim again without something like the bridge to control the encounter, they most likely wouldn't get to see the Tenebrae, just be seen by them. Adrasta chose to project bluster, however, as she was worried about Ardan. Their adventures so far had whittled away at him, like Otto's knife at a piece of wood, but had left kindling rather than a piece of art. Adrasta had seen this kind of behavior before. In soldiers, it usually led to a premature death, most often self-inflicted.

"Hopefully, we'll reach the fishing village today and get to sleep indoors. Fresh grilled fish, a pile of hay and some furs to lie on would do us all some good. Maybe you'll even find a buxom lass to keep you company," Adrasta says as she nudges Ardan. Behind her cocky grin, she found herself wishing she could heal the mind as easily as she could the body.

<<Midday - Day 12 - Early Spring - The Covered Bridge - Wilderness>>

You cross the bridge and the terrain becomes more challenging. There are many more hills and they're much more densely wooded than before. More problematically, they are thick with underbrush. The horses have a difficult time pushing through them.

The good news is that you don't see the Anakim, nor any trace of their existence. In fact, you're not even sure which way they went.

You try to follow a river valley that leads west. That makes it easier but still challenging. The horses, of course, get the worst of it. It's a long, hard morning.

It's getting to be close to noon, which means time for a break, when you go around one final bend in the river that takes you through one final valley in the hill and at last... there's the ocean.

It's a magnificent stretch of blue to reaches as far as you can see to the left to as far as you can see to the right. And then, down right next to the sea, there's what appears to be a giant... castle? It's not walled like a castle but it looks tall. It also looks like it has water all around it, as if the sea were a giant moat. The distance may be playing tricks on your eyes, or maybe it's fatigue from a hard journey.

You ride toward it, downhill as the river you're following descends to the sea. As you approach, the perspective of the "village" keeps changing, and - for that matter - keeps getting stranger. It is, indeed, built out in the water. But the village sits ABOVE the water, on a giant platform upheld by equally giant columns. The engineering behind this is clearly monumental and likely involves the realms of magic.

As you descend to the sea level, you're now looking up at the underside of the village-sized platform, which must be at least 100 feet above the water level. It is maybe 100 yards offshore, directly in the path of the river that empties its freshwater into the bay. As you get down to the sandy beach, you get close enough to see that there's activity in the town: people moving about, fishing boats being raised up to town or lowered to the water by giant pulleys. Nobody seems to notice you or pay any attention to your arrival.

On the sandy shore, you find something else: the Anakim. Or, more accurately, the remains of the Anakim, which have been ripped limb from limb. There's a leg here, an arm there, entrails here there and everywhere. The sand is still bloody; the tide has not washed it away yet. A flock of hungry seagulls peck at the eyes and tongues of the Anakim heads that are strewn about. Other sea birds gobble up meaty bits that are strewn around. You find some torches and weapons too, but only about six weapons instead of the dozen that you would expect. It's a mess, ain't it? If it ain't, it'll do until the mess gets here.

Adrasta doesn't quite know what to make of the strange, elevated village offshore. She stares at it, speechless.

The dead Anakim, however, she knew how to process. She had seen her fair share of battlefields. The bunch of corpses was strangely reassuring, almost comfortable in its familiarity. She rides closer, then dismounts from Wanderer. She secures her shield to her arm as she approaches the dead, in case whatever had done this was still hiding nearby. She walks around the corpses, trying to find one of the bigger pieces. She hones in on a torso-head-arm chunk lying on its stomach.

Adrasta flips the corpse over and starts looking at its wounds, poking her hand in and around the gashes as she investigates the Anak's cause of death. Once she's done, she moves on to another piece until she can get a clear picture of what befell the monstrous raiders.

The winds are strong off the water. They blow sand, but mercifully they whisk away any foul smells from the Anakim.

It's quickly obvious to Adrasta that no blade did this. The wounds are jagged and messy in a way that's far different than what an edged weapon would create. There is no cuts to the wounds; it looks as if the arms and legs were pulled out of their sockets by a tremendous force. The nearest analogy that Adrasta can think of would be those who have been tortured on the rack, or quartered by horses. But, of course, one would not expect the Anakim to stand idly by during such treatment.

Adrasta thinks that they were killed here, rather than being killed elsewhere and deposited here. The sand is still red with blood; the tide has not yet washed it away. It's possible that the Anakim were defeated by traditional force and then mutilated (with an unconventional force) after their demise. There is some evidence that bones were crushed, but again in an unexpected way: the bones seem to have been squeezed from all sides, rather than suffering a crushing blow from one direction. But it's also possible that the process of mutilation caused this damage.

Otto keeps an eye open for threats, but does not detect any. He studies the ships on the water, which are almost all small, practical fishing vessels. He does spy one different from the rest, a luxurious sailboat made in the shipyards of Otto's family. He doesn't recall anything about the specific buyer other than perhaps it was a merchantman whose family had made their money fishing. It's the only such boat out here. Presently it is a few hundred yards off the shore, cutting back and forth across the waves as it enjoys the strong winds. It sails tightly, a professional ship under the hands of professional sailors.

Adrasta wipes her hands in the sand. She lets out a long sigh as she stands back up. "Gamo ti poutana mou, these wounds... It's like some great giant crushed them with its huge hands and then pulled them apart."

She looks up at the platform holding the village. Could they have done this? Or did they build their homes up high to steer clear of whatever had? The latter seems more likely to Adrasta. Too many parts were missing. These people were fishermen. She doubts they would stoop to eat the Anakim or would have much use for parts of their corpses. Some sort of monstrous predator made more sense.

"If I had to hazard a guess, there's some sort of large, nocturnal predator that stalks these shores." Adrasta points up at the platform. "The height keeps the villagers safe and their pulleys lets them keep their boats safe as well."

She turns to look at her travelling companions, her usual good humor nowhere to be found. "We need them to grant us access to spend the night, or we need to ride as far away from the shore as we can before nightfall."

Stifling some vomit, Otto croaks "It see that the Anakim will be less of a problem than expected." He holds the crook of his elbow to his face to cover the smell, but glad of the strong winds.

"Let's away from the water's edge, lest we suffer a similar fate. Sea monsters abound, and the carnage here might point to such monsters as the culprit."

He turns and trudges away from the shore, though he turns to point at one of the boats on the water. With a smile and a gesture towards the water, he says to anyone who will listen, "There be a proud ship, the Imelda Grace. With three sheets unfurled, she's as fast as they come." And indeed, three sails full with wind pull the Imelda Grace with impossible speed through the waves, glints of bright metal sparkling from the the ship's broad spars.

Otto turns fully around so he can watch the cutter, walking backwards away from the shore, a faint smile on his lips.

"I don't like this one bit. For all we know these people might be the masters of whatever did this. I say retreat into safe distance and scout. Tomorrow we shall know more. If nothing happens over night, we can approach the settlement come morning."

Adrasta looks up at the sun's position and frowns. "It's only midday. We could at least try to make contact. I'd feel much safer spending the night up there rather than down here."

Ardans eyes widen. "Staying out here in the dangerous wild, when shelter is so near? This is madness, madness I tell you!
The villagers obviously protect themselves from the sea. Let's head over to the sea and plead for entrance."