Orehaven's Depths
At the Edge¶
The four figures cast long shadows from the early morning sun into the entrance to a mine framed by aged timber. The long earthen tunnel channeled a cool breeze from an unseen water source. The walls were roughly flat with the texture of old tool markings. El fetched a torch from his bag. With a spark, the bundled fibers erupted into a crackling flame, and the pack began their march. The floor under their feet was tightly packed with many sets of footprints and railways that once carried the materials back up to the surface. Fareflynn remembered the miner's song from her previous visit, and hummed it as she led them further in. It ceased being useful as they veered off the recommended path to follow long streaking marks from the dragged roots El referred to as 'abominations'.
After some distance, the rough cut wall gave way to a hole that poured out into a deep cavern dimly lit by bioluminescent lichen on the ceiling. The cavern spanned hundreds of feet back and fifty tall. To Kit, these are distant silhouettes that could be tricks of the eye in the dark expanse. Seamus, with keener eyes and a partially elven heritage, saw an outline of a tall structure in the distance. Elwood took a moment to concentrate. An ethereal light seemed to dart up from the base of his neck to occupy his eyes. I felt a pulse as Fareflynn performed a similar ritual.
"That's a big hole, huh?" remarked the little one.
Fareflynn leaned over to peer beyond the impromptu entrance into the underground space. "More than a hole, it's a fortress."
El gestured to the markings at the bottom of the entrance, long streaks in the dirt unlike any walking footprint, "I think it's what we're looking for. These look to be made by dragged roots." The streaks are flanked by pairs of clawed feet, tightly spaced, "And we can expect others as well."
"Right-o," Seamus glanced from El to Fareflynn and back, "No time like the present." He tied one end of a rope to stake and shoved it into the dirt, between two rocks near the mouth of the entrance. He tossed the coiled rope through the opening and a pattern of rope against earth quietly echoed through the cave. El placed his torch nearby as a signal to any who might interfere with the rope.
Seamus was the first to descend. El kept one hand on top of the stake, ensuring that it held. Fareflynn was next to descend, encouraging Kit to follow suit. Fareflynn kept a motherly gaze upward to Kit, attentive to any unsteadiness until he was within reach. The two then faced outward into the cave. "Don't fort-ests usually have more trees," squeaked out the little one, "these are just black squares."
"It's a castle, Kit, like a fortification," El whispered from behind, stepping down onto the cave floor. "Can you not see the building?"
"Mmm-- nope, just blobs."
Seamus's elongated eyebrows jumped up with the realization, "Oh, you can't see in the dark, can you m'boy? Maybe you should stay in the back with Ms. Fare-fuh-flaggen." His words inspired the group to arrange a marching order, with El leading in front, Seamus a step behind, and Kit maintaining a close pace with Fareflynn, one hand on the tasset plate that covered her hip. The pack trepidatiously moved toward the castle in relative silence.
\ *
Coming into view, the castle stood two stories tall and faded into the black one hundred or more feet out to either side. There was a central entrance, tall wooden doors, flanked by narrow vertical defensive windows on either side. The pack climbed a handful of stairs onto a platform before the door and a guttural voice spewed from the slit to the left, "What master do you serve?"
The pack froze in hunched, sneaking postures, with their eyes searching for the source. El gave a nod of self-assurance. He brought his voice to a booming echo, as if amplified by a regal pressure deep in his chest, "Jeck-Reth was my master. I wish to speak with him."
The faceless gravely voice continues, "The student of Jeck-Rıath may enter. Others stay."
El raised his arm in a protective gesture of the others behind him. "These are my servants, they serve my ends." Unintelligible mutterings and shuffling footsteps are the only reply.
Fareflynn scanned the wall and caught a glint coming from a narrow slit. The tip of an arrow slowly raised into view below the shadowed face. She inhaled sharply with her nose, catching Seamus's attention and then gestured with her gaze. Seamus cleared his throat in recognition.
The unseen muttering stopped abruptly, the same guttural voice cutting through, "No! No one else may enter! Only students, the master does not like newcomers."
El's eyes narrowed. This was a violation of druidic diplomatic tradition. Either visitors were permitted with entourage or not at all. El slowly raised his hands as a gesture of acquiescence. He turned to the other three, "Alright, then my servants will ıstay here." El elongated his words unnaturally. He turned back to face the door and his posture transitioned to a hunch with tension, hairs standing at attention on the back of his neck.
Even as a gray silhouette, in the dim light, Kit recognized this posture shift and adopted it himself. His legs tense in preparation for a pounce.
A series of metal thuds bounced on the other side of the door. Seamus's eyes were trained on the right slit of a window, which ordered back "Only student! No other!".
Fareflynn took a step to the side, interposing herself between the nocked arrow tip and the others behind her1, "Understood." From behind him, Seamus began a ritual, holding before the final push. El took slow deliberate steps forward until he was inches away from the door and then waited.
The heavy wooden door cracked open with a jerk of overcoming its weight. The pack all burst into action simultaneously. El shoved the door, banging against the hidden creature behind. The arrow dipped, its wielder distracted. Fareflynn knelt, revealing Seamus's practiced hand, and then a streak of flame pouring into the slit. Kit dashed forward and burped out a beam of light, shaped as a flame, into the interior chamber.
The eruptions of magic granted a full view of the stunned wyrmkin inside. Small in stature, these lizard-like creatures stood on two feet with a protruding tail behind. Spending most of their lives underground, the light was blinding. Of the three in the circular entry room, the right-most creature slumped back onto a stool and then tumbled to the dirty floor. To the left, the creature struck by Kit's light singed but stood standing. El faced an outstretched spear directly ahead, swiping the pointed tip off to the side with his left hand. This time, the puppetry was confined to his hand. The fingernails on his right hand expanded to fine pointed claws, sinking into the scaley chest.
The creature to the left charged forward with a dagger, sinking it into El's hip. Kit scrambled forward with a pounce of his own, onto the wyrmkin that matched him in height. Kit's forearm caught the creature under the chin, slamming his head against the wall of the chamber. "Where is Jack-Breath?!" Kit shouted, his teeth backlit by the light erupting forth.
"I don't know! I don't know!" cries out the wyrmkin. Their tattered set of rags that served as clothing shook under terrified breath. Scaley limbs ending in clawed hands that grasped at the wall behind him. Kit stared into the milky yellow eyes of the creature and was surrounded by the glow of Seamus's flame that lit a create in the corner. A gurgled squeal followed, "We don't know your master."
Kit's eyes narrowed, "Then say you're sorry for trying to attack the wolfman. We just want to talk."
The wyrmkin gritted their jagged teeth in an angry grin, lifting one clawed hand up above Kit's head. Kit never broke eye contact. Fareflynn came into the wyrmkin's view behind Kit, her mace held glinting in the firelight. The wyrmkin balled a fist, "My family never say sorry. We kill silly sun-sighted ones that give their belongings as gifts to Her."
Kit's voice raised in pitch, twisted in sympathy, "Huh? Who?... No, just say sorry so you can leave." Kit backed away from his pinned stance, continuing to stare at the wyrmkin.
"All your shinies will be gifts to Her," the wyrmkin's voice continued, their eyes jumping around the chamber, from combatant to combatant, and then to fallen comrades. The flickering light caught the pained and charred last expression of the wyrmkin whose bolt never left the crossbow that still hung in the window slit. The remaining wyrmkin's posture shifted from back on their heels to a forward lean, and then hunched shoulders.
"We wish her luck," Seamus spit sarcastically, taking a step forward, crossing between Kit and the wyrmkin. There was a swift slash of a dagger at the wyrmkin's throat. "Goodbye." The wyrmkin's final quip is lost in a gurgle of a dying breath.
Kit jumped to attention, pushing Seamus, "What? No, why?" Kit looked to Seamus, and then over to Fareflynn, "he coulda said sorry." Kit's protest was hushed by a sense of shock. Fareflynn's mouth tenses and then opens to a sigh.
El looked up from kneeling over another wyrmkin and pressing some paste from a pouch into his wound, "haven't you met creatures like this before Kit? Surely they mean us harm." El's eye contact was brief. He tied a strip of cloth to cover his wound and then turned to the burnt wyrmkin on the ground in search of a pouch or a set of keys.
Seamus looked to the others and then knealt, dagger still bloody, "Wyrmkin are evil creatures by nature, Kit. Any basic adventuring guide book would tell you so. They worship evil dragons and are especially dangerous in packs."
"That doesn't mean they hafta die," squeaked the little one, half in shock, half in a novel sense of confusion, new to the rapid nature of moral decisions in a dangerous setting. Kit kneeled before the fallen wyrmkin, tears welling in his eyes, "Have you killed one before?" A yellow glinting tear fell to the creature.
Seamus's response was elongated, "No, these are the first I've met." After a pause, he landed on his explanation, "I'm not sure what should happen, but we hafta live to help out Master Elwood. We need to do what will keep us safe... as a pack." Seamus stood to look back at the corpses, following El's lead of searching for possessions, but Kit just looked at Seamus with disgust. Kit turned to Fareflynn and they shared a gaze of mutual compassion and regret.
Fareflynn was next to speak, "We made some noise just then, what say we move?" Seamus and El both nod, having found only a few coins between the wyrmkin guards. Their foes were quickly swept out of immediate view. The pack reconvened into marching order and turned toward the next door, failing to notice that the creature blessed by Kit's tears had stopped bleeding.
Carried burdens¶
The pack journeyed further into the citadel. The walls and floors were rough stone, with the occasional wooden support beam. The tracks of dragged roots were hard to distinguish from the natural stone and various overlaid footprints of the wyrmkin.
Kit's mind was racing. He could understand the need to protect oneself. He'd certainly fended off competitors for meals here and there. Acting quickly often meant saving oneself, but certainly Seamus didn't understand. "Ok, so they're bad, like in general, and so sometimes they gotta die." Kit gestured and shrugged as if explaining the concept to himself. His whispered tones recognized the situation, but his companions stopped in their place to turn and stare. "But what if their heart--"
Seamus put a hand on Kit's shoulder, "Kit, buddy, not a good time." He emphasized each syllable with a gentle squeeze, his eyes widening in concern for the dangers that lay ahead.
El turned to the others, his eyes twitching in the dim light in anger.
Kit met Seamus's gaze, "But what if his heart was good?" His words hung in the air, fraught with the deep morality implicit in any such adventure. None of the others spoke, all feeling the tension. "I'll be quiet if you promise not to kill anybody who's talking."
Seamus's lower lip tensed in anger, "Fine. No one who's talking."
After a collective breath in resolve, the pack turned to face the corridor ahead.
\ *
A flame flickered in the distance around a corner. Drips of water fell into otherwise stagnant pools that filled the humid air with the smell of pond scum. You could have convinced yourself it was pleasant if not for the fainter aroma of excrement piercing through the old stone of the cave.
El was the first to peer beyond the corner, with Fareflynn behind. Ever her shadow, Kit kept a light touch on her tasset. Try as she might, she couldn't suppress the muffled clanks of her protective suit2. Seamus followed behind, carefully glancing over his shoulder and taking a second look at any shadow that twitched in the distant firelight.
El whispered a quiet, "Clear" before rounding the corner. The pack found themselves in an oval room with two doors at the far end and a statue of a dragon in the center. Sat in a stoic posture, the dragon gave an open-mawed menacing glare at the entrance.
Fareflynn and El continued their hushed gaits to the far wall to listen for noises beyond the respective doors. Kit paced somewhat directionless, looking up to a grated opening in the ceiling far overhead, likely an unassuming hole in the dirt above. The day had turned overcast in Orehaven and little light came through.
Seamus stood a couple paces in from the entrance studying the inscription below the statue. The language was a distant cousin of something he had studied. The meaning was barely accessible given the pictographic nature of the writing. He muttered a stacatto translation, "Give. Life. Erupt or spew. Heaven."
Approaching the far right door, Fareflynn leaned her ear in. A brick below her foot gave way, sinking in with a grinding sound of stone on stone. She looked down, eyes wide in fear, frozen in place.
"Wait!" eked a tiny voice from the shadow beyond the entrance.
Seamus spun around in a vigorous display. As he spun, his right hand conjured a glyph from midair and dipped into nothingness to emerge glowing, as if putting on a glove made of flame that lit up the corridor. Clearing away the shadow, his hand landed directly on the neck of the wyrmkin who had been following them since being healed. The creature was pinned against the wall, a full foot above their natural height with flames licking up around the side of their head.
Kit ran the three steps it took for him to stand next to Seamus, "He3 said 'wait'." Kit was indignant.
Seamus didn't break gaze from the wyrmkin, "And I haven't killed the bastard, have I." His left hand forcefully extended the index finger upward, directly in Kit's face, asking Kit to wait in turn. "Please, go on," he said to the pinned creature.
The wyrmkin's hands pulled at either side of their face, trying to lift themselves up, and gasping for air in pained speech, "Is trap. Foot trap. No move."
Fareflynn looked down to her foot, held firm, and then back up at the altercation.
Kit gave Seamus a couple firm smacks on the butt to punctuate his demand, "Let him down!"
Seamus lowered his grip on the wyrmkin, the flames dissipating. "Why should I believe you? How do I know you're not just eating our time while reinforcements gather?" Seamus maintained eye contact in an imposing stance, while surreptitiously replacing the flame with a dagger he held on the far side of himself, away from Kit.
The wyrmkin's eye were wide in terror, "I... I... um"
Kit extended a hand to grab the wyrmkin's, pulling them a step away from Seamus, "Hi. My friend is mean, but I'm Kit. What's your name?"
"M-- M-- Meelo."
"Meelo. Nice to meet you." Kit's subtle nod was as much assurance as he could offer under the life threatening circumstances Meelo had been presented with.
Seamus growled through grit teeth, "This is not the time--"
Samus's words didn't even register with Kit, "Meelo, can you show us how to stop the trap?"
"If lift foot, everyone get spears", Meelo looked to the holes in the wall lining the room that could have passed for ornamentation. "Statue say," Meelo pointed to the inscription below the statue, "'Give flame, say God'."
Seamus looked to the statue and then his eyes narrowed on the wyrmkin. "What do you mean, 'give flame'?"
"Put fire in mouth," Meelo gestured to dragon's mouth, "say god's name... then trap reset"
Seamus leaned in, "And what is your god's name?"
Meelo looked up to Seamus and shuddered in another bout of fear, "Volcryx."
Seamus gave a sigh, resenting that what he was hearing might be true. Given the meaning he had gleaned from the stone, this was close enough to probably be the truth. "Fine." He shifted his blade to his left hand and moved to the statue. He conjured a flame almost absentmindedly, and then paused to look back at Meelo. Looking back to the statue, he shot his flame into the dragon's mouth and said firmly, "Volcryx."
The dragon shook briefly from side to side. There was a click and another grinding noise of stone on stone. Fareflynn timidly lifted her foot, and the stone rose up, clicking back into place.
Seamus turned back to Meelo, shifting his dagger back to his right hand, and once again gesturing threateningly, "Ok, now you're going to--" Kit glared at Seamus, nostrils flaring in anger. Seamus stopped himself, lowered the dagger, "Now, would you ıplease tell us what's beyond those doors?" His exasperated 'please' would've been transparent to anyone who knew the language better than Meelo and Kit.
Meelo gave a sigh, looked to Kit, and then back to Seamus, "One door, god's home", gesturing to where Fareflynn stood. "One door, stink trees," confirming what El already knew about the path being the source of the manure smell. "God's home," Meelo repeated leaning to their right, "Volcryx." "Stink tree", leaning left, "farm job."
El's head twisted in concern, "Farm? Are you growing these trees?"
Meelo nodded, "Yes, we grow big tree. Little ones walk away4. Magic man gave supplies and gold."
El gave a deep sigh, "I believe I know what we're up against."
Seamus looked to El and then jolted a nod before facing Meelo, "Then this fucker has served his purpose." He lunged at Meelo whose eyes widened in renewed terror.
Kit slammed his club against the wall, just in front of Seamus's face, barely grazing by his nose. "You go." You could say he intended to miss, but it was more likely he didn't care whether or not the hit landed.
Seamus was deeply annoyed, like a father trying to prevent a tantrum, "You can't be serious my boy. He's done talking, we got what we needed."
Kit turned to face Seamus in a deep seriousness none of the pack had witnessed before, and one in sharp contrast to his otherwise playful demeanor, "You kill Meelo, I kill you."
Seamus had never been threatened like this, least of all not by someone so deeply misguided, he thought. He looked to El and Fareflynn stridently seeking validation, "The liability of--". El returned a disbelieving gaze, and Fareflynn shrugged with a sympathetic sigh. Seamus cut himself off, feeling the battle lost, and backed off toward El's door.
Kit took both of Meelo's hands and knelt on the floor, gesturing for Meelo to do the same. Fareflynn looked on in confused recognition of her own posture during her morning prayers, realizing she had been observed.
Kit looked down at Meelo's scaled hands in his, "Volcryx made you attack people." It was almost a blind assertion, but Meelo nodded. "Volcryx made you almost die instead of talk," Kit spoke, met with continued nodding. "Lady only wants you to love, and protect people who love. Can you love, Meelo?". A nod, then "Can you protect people, Meelo?"
The clouds were parting and a beam fell from the skylight to land on Meelo's face just as they spoke, "Yes, Kit. I will love and protect people who love." The light rolled over their face as quickly as it had come and the room returned to its overcast dimness.
Kit stood up, "Good." He embraced Meelo in a hug, "I love you, Meelo. Now, go run away." Meelo looked back in a confused daze and then took off toward the entrance.
Seamus looked to Fareflynn laughing, "A wyrmkin worshiping Lunara?! What madness."
Seamus's ridicule didn't register with Kit and nor did Fareflynn return his gaze. She looked on as Kit watched Meelo leave, "It's not Lunara, I would feel it." She hid a deep jealousy and confusion. In all her time of service, she had never achieved such a connection, let alone an immediate convert. It almost felt blasphemous to her to see this form of baptism without even speaking the name of a proper deity. It was faith no one, but she knew deep down that someone was listening.
El's voice broke the silence opening the door, "Please. Let's move."
The Farm¶
The pack journeyed further into the citadel, now certain that their goal was ahead. El led the way, with Seamus following close behind. Seamus continued on with an air of determined professionalism, but he was still dumbfounded by the notion that a wyrmkin would be let free. Fareflynn shared in Samus's confusion, but not his anger. She was more disturbed the potential implications, and the potential threat to what she thought she knew about faith5. Fareflynn held Kit's hand as they walked in relative darkness.
The path sloped downward, and the stone floor gave way to a dirt path. The ceiling opened up to a natural cavern, with the walls lined with roots and moss. To the left, El could see a wooden platform separated from the dirt, like a shack built into the wall. A small lantern hung from the ceiling to cast a flickering light over a number of kegs and crates. A lone wyrmkin emptied the contents of one keg into a wheelbarrow, and exited the shack to go deeper into the cave.
Ahead, El could see the path open into a large chamber, 50 feet across. Two dozen trees in different stages of growth surrounded a central tree that seemed to suck in the light from the torches that lined the walls. Fertilizer surrounded the base of both the mother tree and the offspring. The pack remained in the shadows watching a handful of wyrmkin attending to the grove. A larger creature carrying a staff walked among them, occasionally smacking an underling assessed as 'slacking'.
El turned to the others and performed a series of crude gestures to indicate 'four small, one big', looking from Seamus to Fareflynn to check for understanding. With a point to himself, and then to Seamus, he indicated that they would enter the chamber and veer to the left, and then Fareflynn to go right. Kit, as he often did, was looking off into the distance.
El and Seamus kept to the shadows of the smaller trees, in a measured crouching pace They managed to get halfway across the chamber in the time it took Fareflynn to just barely reach past the entrance. Underfoot, the maturing trees were writhing in the dirt, squirming with a dark energy. Fareflynn was looking back to check on Kit when her boot caught a root and came crashing down in a cacophonous clattering of armor.
With Fareflynn prone behind shrubbery, all the wyrmkin in the room turned to see a wide eyed Kit, ever so unbothered to be the center of attention. "Hi, um... I'm Kit." The wyrmkin remained in shock to see a stranger in their midst, just staring wide-eyed around the chamber. Though hidden, Seamus and El held similar expressions. Even Fareflynn was reluctant to interrupt the moment. Kit continued, "Do you know what this tree does?"
The apparent leader spoke up, "This growth brings gold by serving master Jek".
Kit's head bounced from side-to-side, not disagreeing with the point, but presenting another, "And also the bits hurt people."
The leader stepped forward. The light from a torch now fell directly on their wide red-tinged face and narrow nose. They too were a stranger to the cavern, appointed master over the wyrmkin. They raised their staff to point at Kit's throat, "Be gone or suffer the same fate."
As they spoke, a red bead of flame started to form in the center of the room, as if carved out of empty space by a bead of light etch-a-sketch'ing its way around the surface.
Kit gave a compassionate frown, "I worried you might say that. But I gotta kill the tree".
The wyrmkin around the room looked to one another, confused as to how to interpret the little one's words, having always known strength to be in numbers. A rolling chuckle took over the leader, lending the others the same ease, and distracting all from the forming bead. The leader's staff dipped, "Funny dumb creature. Now be gone."
The bead of flame exploded out in an instant, ballooning out to a 10-foot diameter, and then collapsing back in on itself, like an underwater explosion. The only wyrmkin in proximity was blown back to the ground, unmoving. The shrubbery and tree-lings in the immediate vicinity had a singed sphere carved out of them, leaving a hollow patch of destruction in an otherwise untouched room. "shit shit shit", Seamus's muttered curses sprang out of him6.
The leader spun around to stare directly at Seamus with furry, catching El in the middle of his own conjuration. In a crouched kneel, El's hands were fixed in stiff shapes, palms flat, fingers splayed and at odd angles. He pushed down toward the ground releasing a green ethereal light from his palms into the soft earth. His hands rotated, and he stood pulling his palms laboriously until they passed his shoulders. As he did, a series of vines sprang from the ground to ensnare the three dumbfounded wyrmkin closest to him and Seamus, wrapping around their legs and tails and yanking down, causing each to stumble to different degrees.
Their leader's face flashed with a startled rage as they took a step in Seamus's direction. Kit reacted to the leader's turn by taking a running leap, launching off an upturned writhing root of a tree-ling. He crashed to hug around the back of the head and neck of the full-height leader whose fury redoubled. They flailed and spun, swinging their staff wildly behind their back, launching motes of fire at odd angles from the tip of the staff.
Both Fareflynn and the singed wyrmkin, knocked over by the blast, stood amid the chaos. Farefynn took several determined strides toward the mother tree, her heavy steps building momentum. The singed wyrmkin strafed to the side, in an attempt to interrupt Fareflynn's linebacker stride, but was immediately barreled over, knocked back by me into a tree-ling and stuck in its low branches.
Fareflynn took a deep breath as she ran, filling herself with a blue glow that ran from me, and up her left arm, pooling in her chest. With the exhale, that pool traveled down her right arm into her mace. An outstretched arm wound up into a wide swing as she charged the base of the tree and slammed the trunk with such force that it cracked like thunder as splintered bark exploded into the air. The room grew dimmer with the mother tree seeming to suck in the light from its various sources, like a river tugging on a rope dangling in the water.
Seamus reverted to his well rehearsed smaller lobbed motes. Green ichor launched from him to each of the restrained wyrmkin, hitting them squarely between the eyes. As each went limp, El's outstretched grasps released them to focus on the others.
Kit was barely hanging on to the flailing leader, but managed to wrap his legs around their torso and press down on either side of their head. "STAY!" he cried out, yellow light jumping from his hands to the creature. The leader tensed up as if moving through a substance that was rapidly solidifying. Unable to place their foot back down, the creature slowly tipped over and landed with a thud. Kit lifted himself slightly, and then patted the back of the leader's head, "good boy".
Kit, Seamus, and El each took a moment to survey the room for additional threats, and then approached Fareflynn, who stood at the mother tree. Her breathing was labored, but determined. Kit put a hand to her armor to catch her attention, and looked up, "Same time, okay?"
Fareflynn nodded at Kid, with a furrowed brow that betrayed her lack of complete certainty, and then drew in another breath causing the same energy to flow through the two of us7. Her mace swung out wide. Kit jumped into a tall stance, his arms reaching up to a sky hidden from view. As Fareflynn's mace swung in to strike the tree once more, Kit collapsed down, pulling a yellow bolt of lightning from the void just around the mother tree. The two hit at the same time.
The tree buckled in the middle, like a punch to the gut that knocks the wind out of you. The tug on the torches intensified, sucking all the into the center of the room, and then snapping with a release. The tree broke and the top tumbled to the floor.
El stood staring at the broken stump, stunned. Seamus gave a wide-eyed smile. Fareflynn stood painting in exertion. Kit turned on his heels and walked away.
New Pieces of the Puzzle¶
"Where is Jack Breath?!", Kit had flipped over the supernaturally-stiffened leader, now pinned to the ground with El's vines. Kit sat on their chest. Hatred showed in their eyes, but they remained frozen in place. "Oh, right," Kit gave them a gentle pat on their face, "You can move now."
The leader jerked into a sneer, pushing against the restraining vines and then relaxing, "Chase Jek-Reth and face the force of the Devil himself."
Kit rolled his eyes, "No, but where is he though?"
The leader's eyes narrowed, and he spat at Kit, though it landed on his own chest.
"That's not very nice..." Kit wiped the spit off his chest, "Look, I don't want you to get hurt," Kit looked around the room, "All this was bad enough. But my friends aren't so nice." Over Kit's shoulder, Seamus re-donned his flaming glove and held it in threat.
"I either die a loyal servant," the leader growled, "or I die many painful deaths at the hands of the Devil."
"Or not!" Kit's petulant counter-offer did not register. He sighed deeply and looked back to Seamus, who himself was pained to see Kit's disappointed expression. There are some arguments one is sad to win. Kit had wandered off, perhaps in an act of willful ignorance as Seamus took violent precautions.
El searched the body, throwing a small sack of gold to Fareflynn, "Please see that this is divided in equal parts amid your team."
I could feel Fareflynn's hesitation and subsequent acceptance.
El scrambled to open a bit of paper stashed away in the leader's pockets and read eagerly. After a pause, El stormed out of the central cavern of the 'farm' and into the more narrow-focused lantern of the wooden shack. Fareflynn followed, leaving Seamus his burden.
\ *
El burst out in disbelief as he approached Kit in the shack, "What madness he seeks to wage upon all my peoples, filling our lands with these 'Wraithroots'? And to what end?" In anger, he spoke to no one in particular, "It is at least of some consolation that the fertilizer must come from the same source. His ills shall continue to plague my people, but that I may cut off the supply gives a path to the end of this disturbing plot."
Kit looked up to El sheepishly pointing to the various barrels, "They need this stuff?"
Elwood finally looked up from the letter to address Fareflynn and Seamus who had just joined the others. "Yes, this letter provides instructions for growing these trees. Signed by one KV."
Fareflynn chimed in, "The Devil--".
Seamus offered some caution, "Well, we don't know for sure--".
Silencing the discussion of the letter, a timid voice sprang from one of the many kegs of fertilizer, "Be ye wyrmkin?"
Kit looked at the keg with giddy surprise, "No... you can talk?"
The voice continued, "But of course. Now please, release me from these confines."
Kit's sense of wonder fell to a frown at the realization that the voice was not, in fact, a talking keg, but a person inside.
El raised a hand to the others, gesturing for silence. He approached the keg, "On what grounds should we release you?"
The voice responded, "I come from the source of the trees. Release me and I will tell you what I know of those lands."
El looked to Farelynn and Seamus, who both gave stern glances of concern, but nodded in agreement. El turned back to the keg, "Very well." He lifted a crowbar from another keg and pried the lid off the speaking keg.
For an already foul smelling room, it was surprising to have the smelled renewed from an open barrel8. Inside, a man struggled to stand, legs stiffened from having been cramped for only-he-knew how long. What little was visible of his clothes was black cloth, tattered and stained. His face was shrouded in a hood and a mask to likely protect himself from the contents. "I think you good Sirs," completely unaware of Fareflynn's presence behind him, and only half aware of Kit. "The name is Duil (D'wheel) Bladeleaf," he gave a bow to El and then Seamus. All members of the group recoiled in disgust at the additional waft of his odor.
Seamus was the first to speak, "Let's say we head straight to the river and you can catch us up along the way."
The group exited the shack to pass the wreckage of the farm. The giant tree lay broken and the smaller trees lay smoldering from some of Seamus's cleanup. "Gods-almighty", Duil remarked, "Was that the commotion I heard? You must be quite the powerful group of adventurers to have felled such an evil tree." The entire party hurriedly retraced their steps to the entrance.
\ *
Always one to fill a silence, Duil spoke at length nearly their entire trek to the surface with the details of how he ended up in such an unfortunate situation. He professed his skills in all manner of stealth and combat that had led himself and a companion to investigate a series of disappearing caravans some two days south of Glintport9. These caravans carried supplies to and from a foreign land. Just as they managed to track down the mysterious caravans, they were covered in mists and arrived in a land of twisted trees and a tyrant count.
Duil sprang up from the running waters, washing of much of grime that had traveled with him from the caverns, "... And my dear Beldun is still stuck, you see, working at their winery, for the caravans are the only manner of traversing the mists."
The pack looked on, in equal parts stun and confusion.
"Which is why I had to flee by any means necessary," Duil continued, "I needed to find mighty adventurers such as yourselves to help me save her. My only possible means of escape was to hide in the shipments that the Count's men never check."
Kit was slightly horrified, "I guess..."
El took up the conversation, "Jek-Reth's letter is not some form of ruse. He is in service of this Count, spreading the evils of his lands beyond." Elwood looked down in contemplation, the letter folded in his hands.
Duil continued, "Is that the guy with the furs? You know, I once tried--"
El cut him off, "I must journey into the madness to kill the mother tree." He rose and began to walk in the direction of Orehaven.
Fareflynn tried to catch Elwood as he walked away, "And, clearly there are others in great need there. An inescapable domain like this is not to be journeyed to lightly," her eyes wide in concern. Kit stood up and Seamus followed, both sharing her concern.
Duil looked up from wringing out his shirt to see that the group was leaving him behind. His pants still dripping from the river, he hurried a few paces to continue in El's earshot, "So you'll help then? You'll save my darling Beldun?"
Elwood raised a hand to the side of his head in a gesture of polite dismissal, "Yes, yes, in exchange for a map of these lands and your direction in how to return, I shall support you in your quest."
Seamus's eyes widened with excitement. This would not only be an impossibly exciting adventure, but there was bound to be an immense amount of gold to be had. If there is a place that any can enter, and only few can leave, he conjectured, then those who enter and die must leave all of their possessions behind. "I suppose you'll be needing continued accompaniment there, Master Elwood."
El did not break stride, but looked off to his right to catch Seamus's eye, "I will indeed. Especially of your magics." They shared a look of gravity for the dangers ahead.
Fareflynn interjected, "I could not volunteer the same without consulting with the elders. Surely they would send members of the Stars or seek out the aid of an elite Glintdavian tactical force."
El continued his solemn tone, "As you wish, Ms. Fareflynn. We shall consult with your elders to recruit additional aid. Then, we shall wage war against the corruption of the mother tree."
Kit sprinted forward to catch up to the three conversing, "Does that mean--". He tripped on a jutted rock and fell to the ground with a thud. Springing back up, "Does that mean we're gonna be heroes?"
All stopped to consider the little one's question for a beat. El broke the silence by addressing the little one directly, "It does indeed".
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Well, really, I was the one doing the shielding. ↩
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Though tools for such an occasion would soon come. I always found it funny how Lunara and others revealed new secrets; only when you most need them. And even then, it's a crapshoot whether or not you can quiet your mind to let divine mysteries flow through you. To lay-folk, it might just feel like indigestion. ↩
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The ıhe was really more ıthey in wyrmkin society. Gender was a concept they would have reserved for rulers and deities only, but this was not the time to quibble linguistic distinctions. ↩
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All in all, Meelo was doing a remarkable job for having never spoken this language before. ↩
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Her mental model was about as accurate as you could be without having met a god yourself. And Kit was certainly an anomaly. ↩
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Well, his curses didn't have the same literal meaning, but they evoked a vile act in his language that matches the general character of shit. ↩
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And oh my did it feel good! It was like electricity running through me. I don't have the physiology for drugs to mean anything, but I imagine this is what that feels like. What a rush! ↩
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Not that I have a nose, but I was really starting to catch the spirit of my surroundings. I could feel Fareflynn's disgust. And when people lurch back like that... Well, when you know, you know. Feeling the electromagnetic spectrum is similar for the semi-sentient weapons among us. ↩
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Truth be told, he was as much of an assassin as an 8-year-old is a spy for having purchased a mail order secret decoder ring. ↩