When we set forth on the last leg of our trip to find Aristeed, the ranger-poisoner whose aid we sought for Pasha, it was on summoned mounts. Not as weary trekkers, but as riders we moved through the weald, proceeding almost (but slightly west of) due north. The relative luxury of this travel - and the chance for some distance, since we rode further apart than we walk - was short-lived, for soon the trail became a trace and the trace a game track and it was too much for the mounts to make. Eventually they were dismissed and we proceeded afoot.
The forest was, I believe this is the word, spooky. The ground was not soft and wet like the swamp, but broken and uneven, and the roots of trees and plants were exposed here and there, and scrub bushes competed with trees for ground space - not at all like the open jangwa, where orderly oases stand like tended gardens in the vastness, the underground water lining the palm trees in a row. We saw what must have been wyverns or some great birds flying high above, and would felt safe beneath the thick canopy of branches, but for the shadows that seemed to hide threats behind every tree. We hesitantly passed through one section that was somehow denuded of all plants - whether from dragon's breath or the work of man we do not know, but the open scree made us feel vulnerable after the sheltering trees.
In a bit of a clearing, we caught sight of a rude but sturdy bridge across what must have been the Andersbright River. Something was perhaps even spookier about this place, and this caused Rorick to sent his bird forward to scout; sure enough, he received the impressions of threat from it. Zinna snuck off to the west of the trail as I advanced up the trace; AppleRabbit was distracted and eating some lettuce she had found, but Immin and Rorick, and eventually Urik, began to respond.
Moving forward, I was vaguely aware of a commotion from behind me and shouts from the others, just as I caught sight of two goblin bandits on the far side of the bridge. Thinking only of pressing forward to our goal, and futilely, out of habit, calling the battle command to C'hallah, I charged the villains with The Reaper drawn.
My 'heroism' was short lived: The Reaper bit, but only by a hair, and my leap caused me to fall prone among my targets. In a trice, they were upon me; darkness came soon after their attacks.
I awoke to pain and Urik's scarred countenance above me and realized that he had used his witchery to restore me; it took some minutes to clear my head, and when I did I saw a scene of devastation. Not just two, but near a dozen goblins lay dead around the scene; apparently while I had been unconscious, a mighty battle had taken place. Most of the party looked to have survived intact; I was concerned that AppleRabbit was trapped in a great web, much like that thrown by the spider-people we had encountered in the swamp. Urik told me that it was he who had spun the web to trap goblins and that Apple had merely thrown herself into it on a monkey-like lark after the battle had ended.
The goblin attack appeared to have been opportunistic. Satisfied that we were out of immediate danger, Immin pushed us forward once again after some healing. We travelled the remainder of the day without incident, but we were unable to make our goal before dark and camped for the night. The next morning we set out again, with no steeds this time. AppleRabbit no longer seemed to think she was a monkey, but instead said she felt like a fish and acted in such a manner.
Sometime before noon, we approached a beautiful vista, a mountain valley surrounding what we believed to be Fingervine Lake, said to be nearby to the home of Aristeed. This supposition was confirmed when an arrow flew out of nowhere, striking a tree next to Rorick's head. As the missile vibrated in the living wood, a figure stepped from the greenery. He was dressed in woodsman's clothes and would have appeared to be an everyday ranger, much like Immin, save for the look in his eyes and the bandolier across his chest. The bandolier contained vials of strange and weird-looking potions; his eyes held menace and a little madness.
Apple chose this moment to decide to jump into the lake for a swim. She began splashing and capering about, much to the delight of Aristeed, who laughed and called out to her in a friendly manner.
I pulled the arrow from the tree and moved toward the ranger, holding the arrow in a gesture of conciliation. He immediately tumbled gracefully backward and landed nimbly with bow drawn and arrow nocked, the point aimed in our direction. He bellowed a challenge in a manner totally contrary to his friendly demeanor toward AppleRabbit, so I hesitated. Rorick advanced and stated our mission; the ranger, save for moving to a better position of attack, ignored him. Immin approached and tried to address our mission and connect to his fellow woodsman; he, too, was ignored. Urik tried some complimentary salutations; there were greeted with enthusiasm, but got us no closer to determining whether this was in fact Aristeed (though we presumed as much) and whether he would help on this mission that Pasha had said was so important. Even Zinna approached in her simple way and was rebuffed. Our frustration grew; it was not that we were being told no, it was that we couldn't even ask the question.
Apple bounded back into the midst of this heated conversation from the lake and became impatient with all of us. Without warning, she activated the ring we had salvaged from the Thistle Men attack; of a sudden all was silence around us.
The situation was tense; I knew that Urik and Rorick were now without magic and that Immin and Zinna were likely confused. I grabbed Apple as if she were a burlap sack of oranges and made to carry her back to the lake, to clear the silence from my fellows and Aristeed in the hope that conversation would continue. The cloud of silence came with us, of course, centered as it is on the ring that AppleRabbit wore. Save for her squirming, it was strangely pleasant to walk to though the meadow in the stillness and watch the sunlight glinting off the water of the lake. I was actually about to gesture to Apple, to draw her attention to a fish breaking the surface with its jump, when I saw the arrowhead come jutting out of my chest and then a moment later felt a great pain.
I know I said "shit" as I fell, but I could not hear it.
Blackness returned. I know not how long I was out, in that weird state between life and death. I know that if consciousness exists there, that my desire was not for release, but for return. I've never really had much of an imagination. But still I would try to picture the exact moment when the beating of my heart would no longer be going on inside my head. Lying there in that meadow, I determined this would not be that moment.
I awoke once again to pain and confusion and Urik's smiling face (which is scarier than his neutral look). I sat and collected myself as I felt the arrow's penetration in reverse, with every excruciating detail repeated. After I could catch my breath and thank Urik, he walked off to sit and mediate; whatever conflict had included my being pierced by an arrow was apparently over.
Zinna was sitting, too, and watching the lake; I recognized the look she gets on her face when the details of living get too much to understand and she goes back to Bandui in her head. Apple was nowhere to be seen; neither was Aristeed. Rorick and Immin came and sat by me; Immin had a fine bow, apparently some sort of gift from Aristeed. They seemed little less confused than I, the one who was so recently unconscious; it was hard to follow their story, but this is what I gathered:
It was Aristeed who had shot me as I carried AppleRabbit away; apparently he had shouted at me to halt, but of course, I could not hear him within the cloud of silence. Once he had made that move, Rorick, Immin, and Zinna had joined the battle, either from comradeship (I could tell Rorick in particular was shaken by the attack on me and was touched by this) or self-protection. By all accounts, it became chaotic, with Apple and Urik still not wanting to fight, and Aristeed doing great damage with exploding arrows - all in all, a mess like a camel herd discovering it has been grazing around a nest of scorpions.
Eventually, my comrades overcame Aristeed; after a great struggle, he was rendered unconscious and disarmed. Upon being awoken, the mighty ranger surrendered, yielded dominion over the valley and lake to us, and relinquished his bow to Immin as symbol of our victory. I guess the ructions were not concluded by a long shot, as Apple and Immin were drawn into conflict over the propriety of his keeping the bow and what our next steps were, but eventually things settled down enough for Apple and Aristeed to engage in some productive discourse. The party drifted away as the two conversed, and eventually the pair of them went off into a small cabin that seemed to be Aristeed's lab as well.
When Rorick drew my attention to it, I could see the big ranger and my tiny fellow druid working within the structure with pots and vials and liquids of various sorts. Aristeed seemed to be getting on well with AppleRabbit, despite the inauspicious start to our intercourse; Apple, for her part, was scribbling notes furiously during their conversation. Immin was watching closely and said Aristeed gave Apple something like a flute or recorder, and a little leather harness that they fussed with a great deal using shears and needle and thread; I did not see this myself.
While those two were so occupied, I spent the time recovering my wits and chatting with Rorick and Immin. We caught Immin up on the adventures our band had been involved in; Rorick contemplated taking Aristeed up on his offer of the lake as our demesne and we playfully argued where to site the cabin; Immin told us of life in rugged Anwar, and we half-seriously considering laying a course eastwards. Especially in contrast to the rigors of the day, it was a cordial and agreeable time. I realized that short interlude held the first moment that I had not thought of the loss of C'hallah; that fact made me both happier and sadder.
In short order, Apple returned and without much conversation informed us that she possessed what we had sought. There was no ranger to bid farewell; apparently he had melted back into his woods, perhaps forgetting that he had recently ceded sovereignty over them. With little conversation, we all began the trudge back to Grelsh. We have traveled mostly in silence since, but luckily we have faced no peril on this return journey.
We will break camp tomorrow and reach the hidden mill of the Stealer's Guild after a day's journey; Pasha is to meet us there, and presumably we will move forward with her mad scheme to fake her death. I am not sure how this will go. Our little band of outcasts, thrown together like strangers in a sandstorm, has been buffeted to and fro for so long, with little chance to catch our breath. Zinna still wants to report to Cavendish; we went to visit Iris - how many weeks ago now? - on his behalf, and we still have not returned to him with our findings. Regardless of who we are working for - and I am no longer even sure - that was a promise we made, and I agree with Zinna we need to fulfill it.
After that - who knows? We have been taking orders from Pasha for so long that it seems the normal course of affairs, but how did that come to be? My fellows have proven themselves to me - AppleRabbit, Urik, Zinna, Rorick, and even now Immin - and perhaps it is time we started acting for ourselves and not for others. I think Pasha's plan madness - but we have accepted the duty. Once that duty is discharged, perhaps quitting Grelsh is not just a topic for idle chatter by a mountain lake.
In any event, this long trip in solitude has led to some conclusions. C'hallah is dead and I will always remember him, but I must move forward without him. I did not choose my comrades, but I now gladly call them all my friends. We have duties to discharge, but we are free agents nonetheless. We need to talk about what our next steps will be and decide together.
Life is a sum of all our choices. What are we doing tomorrow?
No comments:
Post a Comment