The Way We Were Wayward Waylaid, Part 3

Log Info

• Title: The Way We Were Waylaid, Wayward, part 3
• Emitter: Jinks
• Characters: Jay, Nemori, Zofija
• Place: Kultari Way Station
• Time: Friday, July 22, 2022, 9:28 PM
• Summary: With guidance from the knights of the blue rose, the group sent to find a missing druidic scouting party have a path to investigate, leading to the Dern Gorge, a fungal plague warren that had collapsed. The road turns to swamp, and the carts have to be left as they continue on foot to investigate the unnaturally occurring swampland, and a cave that was found inside them.

Quick action and quicker words thwarted catastrophe after Tamzin's fingers turned sticky at the wrong time. The troupe was rallied, wagons turned, and mounts mounted as the motley group of mercenaries (minus one) move to meet with the Order of the Rose and forge yet further west.

The missing trio of scouts wasn't located at the first marker but that would've been way too easy. The Kultari Waypoint proved to be a valuable source of information, regardless, and a few new friends were made. It's been five days since anyone has seen them at the camp. In addition, a group of Sylvanori claimed to've passed the Coastal Head two days ago on their way down from Mythwood; they didn't run into the Essence, Hunter, or Warden, either.

Gneissleigh and Draupchert have taken the flanks while Tamzin does her best at the unfamiliar job of steering a wagon team, Heady rides in statuesque silence behind her, and Git displays moderate competence on Jerrireis, the goat.

The Khazadi pair have a handful of stories of co-adventures with the naturalist trio; encountering a gigantic, rolling mold that managed to unhorse Lord Arctumn, a surprisingly civil exchange with a gregarious hill giant tribe, and a pitched chase with a half-dozen zombie vultures through thick forests around an out-of-the-way noble's manse. To name just a few. Squire Ilde is longwinded young woman who's obviously quite fond of the Boast.

Farewells are made before knight and squire turn north off the main road to make their rounds through nearby countryside farms and estates. With the undead primarily coming from the north- and eastern sides of Alexandros, several landowners (along with their families and employees) have yet to quit their lands for the safet of the city. Gneissleigh confirms you have the list of landmarks provided by Draupchert one last time before their gorgeous ponies gallop away.

Integrity C Truefeather, the 'C' is for Coachman, continues to drive one of the wagons and keep it on the road. He was interested and engaged in the coversations of the knight and squire, and keeping a frequent eye on Tamzin.

"Well, I guess Alexandria needs as much food as possible," he says, looking over the still occupied farm and shaking his head, "but they are cutting it close and that could be a problem, allegedly."

Conversationally, he continues, "So our next stop is the gorge, which used to be a cave, after a gnome saved the world by blowing it up to defeat an outsider invadsion of demonic dragons, allegedly. What was her name? Egolandmine?"

"Sounds like something that would be easy to spot. Dern gorge, right?"

And the group was back on their way, and Zofija was back in the saddle of their large griffon companion off to the side of the wagon convoy.

"Yeah, I don't like it." The arvek-nar grunts. "But we're just dumb mercenaries for hire who don't need to make any decisions, so best leave it to those who know best. Can't remember the name off the top of my head, just know it's bad news."

This leg of the journey was particularly difficult for Nemori. Still maintaining a grudge against dwarves in general (one might begin to think it stems further than that one nearly ill fated evacuation attempt), her exchanges with the knightly pair were not easy ones. She constantly had to remind herself to keep her snide comments to a minimum, and even engage in peaceful dialogue exchange at least a couple of times. The eye-rolling at the boasts was done only when backs were turned, and she took more than one break from the pair with various excuses.

Not that there was many places to go while on the move. It was almost more annoying to the shadow elf to have to listen to /others/ having good natured conversation that she wasn't a part of. Realizing the silliness of the feeling of being left out only made her even more annoyed. So she is met with a large measure of relief when the two group parts ways, even though it means doing without their supposed combat prowess. Speaking of combat prowess...

Nemori finds herself looking at what's left of the Mama Bula detatchement. As an offhanded remark, she offers, "Was that the gorge featured in the play 'The Dragon and the Gorge' that was featured last week?"

"I've never been ter a play," Tamzin answers, turning around in the driver's seat and bringing the reins with her. The two-horse team complies, starting towards the rough divots and uneven ground at the road's edge. The wagon squeaks, rattles, and bumps causing the unexpirienced driver to give a "WHOA'r!" as she bounces and corrects back towards the path.

Git gives an "ACK!" and hunkers down to cower tight against the goat. The goat has the sense to stop and stay out of the path of the wayward wagon. It chews on something it snatched off the road and flicks an ear in silent resignation.

The roiling plasma of Heady's 'head' bobs in the broken half-saucer of its gorget neck. Pieces pulling away and fading like a fire's flickering castoff flame without the volume of the main orb-ish shaped center decreasing. It's taken firm hold of the wagon's lip and that (combined with its weight) is enough to keep it from bouncing out and onto the ground.

"Poof 'orsies! Oi! Don't go where I'm bloody well 'ave a lookin'." Tamzin chides the animals as things settle. There's a heavy sigh and she mumbles quietly to herself. She chews her lip and listens to the other group talking and then tilts her head back, talking to Zofija without turning.

"Wot decisions do yer want ter make, isit? Want ter go hammer and tack and say we did the 'oole bit and couldn't find them, isit?" She makes a suggestive 'hmm!?' before adding: "We'd probably still cop paid."

Git gasps and turns up and down the road, as if looking for someone that might've overheard the implied duplicity.

"Ah... as an officer of the court I'm ethically obliged to fullfill all contracts I take on." Integrity says, in as neutral a voice as possible. "I'm certain there's a degree of wiggle-room, there always is, but a good faith effort to complete the tasks is necessary."

He glances around at the group, then back at Tamzin, "there are far too many people to concoct a plausible ruse that wouldn't self-contradictory. Besides! We've lost the dwarf knights, the Lady Nemori can finally relax."

He clacks his beak inclusively.

"Easy, easy!" The arvek-nar shouts as she has to hop sideways out of the way of the carts. Then she stops, and snorts. "You should of thought of that before you decided to take a knight of the scales along." Zofija grunts, turning and tipping her hat to the cart. "If you even try to attempt to falsify our job, then you'll be going back to the circle in chains to explain why."

"So don't think about it, and we won't have a problem. I hope that's clear enough. I was just saying that it's stupid to leave vulnerable people outside the walls if you're expecting a siege. Take the farmers in and find work for them elsewhere."

"You would not care for them," Nemori assures Tamzin, putting on her sweetest smile and lacing her words with honey. "They require a cultured eye," she adds. And indeed, she does seem to be relaxing a little bit.. glad she is to be on a different wagon than Tamzin's. "Yes, we should continue to the end." Perhaps Nemori would have been okay cheating out their employers... if her company was different.

"Yer said yer weren't 'appy! Soz I'm not a foretuneteller." Tamzin drawls, holding up one hand in mock apology. It's hard to tell looking at the back of her head but the petulant tone of the young woman heavily implies a good roll of the eyes. She also tosses two fingers up over her shoulder at Nemori's saccharine jab. "Bet I could enjoy it wiv the right company, bottle of beer."

The gobber, for his part, clears his throat and looks at Zofija. "I know it's your favorite thing to get people arrested but she was only kidding. Mama Bula asked us to do this and so we're going to do it." He distractedly scritches the goat behind its flicking ear. "If she says it's important--" he tilts his head and tries to see around to Tamzin's face-- "it is.

"... I just wish Kerry-Anne were here, too," Git laments.

"I wish the sky weren't blue." Tamzin counters with a frustrated shrug. "I wish I 'ad an 'undred gold pieces. She were sick. Grow out it."

"Hey! Hey! You should evacuate!" Jay calls at a nearby field, seeing labourers digging away. "Wights are on the way. They're all over."

"T'ain't seen any an' got taters ta bring in." The farmer drawls back.

"Well you better keep an eye out then!" The bluejay emphasizes, flapping his wings.

"Spud 'ere got lots a eyes." Drawly calls back, holding up a potato, "tha Hills got Eyes. We'zz'll see 'em coming."

"Well! Don't caw me if you get a bunch of evil dead or an army of darkness!" Jay squawks, "rescuing people who won't get out when they should is becoming a bridge too far!"

"Cap yer cawin', we heard ya, we'zz stayin'."

Nemori shrugs her shoulders, but allows herself a small smile at Tamzin's response. Perhaps it was what she expected. The smile vanishes as quietly as it appeared when it seems everyone is in agreement on concluding the mission. And her eyes harden when she is reminded of the unsatisfying explanation of Tamzin, Git and Heady's missing accomplice. She resists the urge to look behind her, instead focussing on the ungrateful wretches that Jay does his best to save... and being unsurprised when they prove every bit as stubborn and dumb as she expected them to be.

Of course, she probably could have helped, too.

"I don't like arresting people, but I'd rather uphold the law when I can help it." Zofija snorts. "Considering the fact that you're clearly practicing magic again, if I enjoyed arresting people, I could report you to the college. But I'm willing to at least hope you learned your lesson. Don't make me regret that, because that'll be even worse."

The arvek-nar stretches and turns to look out at the countryside. "It was a good try, but they're stubborn too. Won't leave until death is staring them down in the face. Admirable, but foolhardy."

It's well after midday by the time you're off the main road and following the guidance provided by the squire's directions. Even with the early start, the stop at the waypoint took a little more than an hour and there was a meal and relief break under a shady copse during highsun.

Tamzin was smart enough to procure a padded blanket from the supplies before resuming her driving but Git is well into shifting and whining as his thighs begin to chafe or rump goes sore. The city-gobber is in theback of the wagon now near Heady, his knees propped on a bedroll as he leans over the side and occasionally rumps his bruised backside.

The goat is tethered behind the wagon and ambles along through the narrowing roads, increasingly arcane turns, and slowed progress through patches of rolled debris or overgrowth spilling onto the less-used paths. The Mythwood is still a good ways to the north and west but the trees and brush are thicker in patches here and there's much less sign of habitation.

The air has taken on a dank quality by the time you find the marker leaning against a tree with a red ribbon tied to it. The wood has taken to rot and the painted sign is faded and moldy, with grey-green and white mold growing on its surface.

"PUR~LE OX ~ORE OF RO~"

The wilderness sounds have changed; there's a quiet-but-omnipresent buzzing and-- as warned by the dwarves-- the mounts seem no interested in going further.

"'oo died?!" complains Tamzin, holding her nose in the crook of her elbow as she ties off the wagon. Git seems less-inclined to complain (except for the groaning and wincing as he climbs out of the wagon) and Heady is entirely mute save for the grinding and clanking of patina-colored and dented plates as it animates and clatters to the ground.

The bluejay was unusually quiet for the remainder of the journey, once his honest warning was dismissed. He doesn't participate in Zofija's exchange with Git, and avoids looking at the gnome.

He hops off the wagon and spends a few moments straightening out his tailfeathers. "Well. I guess we should take a look." He looks at Nemori, "How should we do this?"

Zofija doesn't have too much to add. She's busy keeping watch around them anyways, and it's not until they're finally stopping that she speaks up again after pulling a mask out of her pack and wrapping it around her face.

"Yeah, need to take a look around here. Hopefully the insects aren't after the people we were looking for, though."

Nemori didn't end up faring too well either on the trip, though she'll be damned if she lets it show. At leat, that's what she tells herself. The stiffness as she moves, climbing out of Jay's wagon.. the audible *cricks* as she stretches.. the wince she can't completely hide.. well, she's just glad that that leg of the journey is over.

Doing her best to keep the crankiness from her voice when she answers the egalrin, she looks at him. "If we must investigate, instead of simply writing this place off... without our ranger, I am unsure what kind of clues we might be able to gather here. But.." She looks sidelong at Zofija. "We should at least make the attempt," she adds, agreeing with the arvek.

The game trail that should be near the warning makrer is surprisingly difficult to find-- even with the notes provided by the squire. The growth is surprisingly thick, with a massive weeping willow overhanging the area and crawling vines weaving between it and other, older trees that seem to be wasting away in the yielding, moist earth.

Nemori, Jay, Tamzin, and Git are equal to the task, however, and all four are able to point out its edges and a way through the draped vegetation. Frustratingly, there are no signs of tracks but it's possible that the three had made attempts to cover signs of their passage. The sccouts were renowned for their aptitude at this sort of work-- it's why you're focused on visiting landmarks on their route.

The buzzing of the insects remain but the longer you're in the area the easier it becomes to sort out other sounds; birdcalls, the croak of amphibians, and the occasional splash and pitter-patter of something moving into, out of, or through shallow water.

Tamzin ties a pocket square around her face, beneath her uneven hair. For some reason it makes her look like a cutpurse or roadway bandit. She adjusts the straps of her pack and buckles closed her fancy new leather coat. "Wot a place for a game of 'ide and seek," she complains.

Git clutches his staff nervously in two hands, fidgeting as he glances from the ground to the taller folk and then into the dark flora whenever there's a new noise.

Heady clanks and stumbles to take up the rear. There's a grinding noise as it draws a pitted shortsword with a wavy blade out from under a one-time decorative plate on the back of its forearm. The floating will-o'-wisp roils and sputters, turning a slow circuit.

The l-eagal egalrin can spot tracks, but can't follow them easily, a frustration that translates into a strange squeaking noise as he grinds his beak. Still, everyone is able to muddle it out. As they progress, he raises a wing for everyone to halt.

"Wait, that tree, the Weeping Willow there, it's not dying like the others. The way the vines are obscuring the path seems deliberate."

He looks at it, hands dropping to his weapons, "Trees attack people, right. Dwarves don't like trees, allegedly."

Zofija isn't actually that good at finding things, and she's too distracted by the noises and the group she doesn't trust entirely to notice anything out of the ordinary. At least until they reach the clearly living tree.

"We're looking for druids, aye? Some of them can restore trees, or make them spring out of nowhere. Maybe one of the ones we're looking for left this here for some reason, maybe to leave a message?"

"It's worth a try, at least." She grunts, hopping off her mount to investigate the tree further.

Nemori shakes her head slowly, her own gaze having been drawn to the large weeping willow. "No, Integrity.. I think it is a normal tree." She should know. SHe's an elf, right? Just ignore the 'cave' part of that. "Remember.. we are following druids. They do this sort of thing," she adds, agreeing with Zofija as she gestures at the tree with a flick of her wrist. She turns a sharp look at Tamzin and company. "There will be little room for... stunts like the one you pulled in the wizard's house out here. We will need to watch out for each other."

The shift from woods to swamp is jarring and rapid. The vegetation is diverse, layered, and winding. The air grows thick with buzzing insects and the sunlight struggles to pierce through hanging vines, draped curtains of spongy moss, and scraggly, dying branches reaching up like inverted forks of lightning.

The ground goes soft and sucks at your feet. A thick toplayer gives and wobbles as you walk atop it, mud and brackish water slurping and sloshing unseen beneath.

... and then you're back at the road, coming out behind where the wagons were parked and the mounts tethered. The marker is there with its mad talk of oxen. Frustrations are voiced and Tamzin suggests moving on towards the Coastal Head; surely the scouting trio weren't interested in the swamp's games.

That idea is summarily dismissed and the group ventures again into the cloying, stinky air, the bugs, and the soft, rotting earth underfoot.

It takes long enough that you wonder if you're lost again but not long enough that you stop to get your bearings. One last moss-strewn curtain of hanging vines and you're as the sloping descent of broken, moss-covered rocks and sloughing mud. The insects are thick enough to seem buzzing, swarming clouds as the cavort over sludgy and water full of silt.

The walls of the ravine are jagged and steep. It's almost impossible to miss the violence of the recent shift in the region's features. The idea of an explosion causing this massive sinkhole seems entirely plausible...

The bluejay surveys the devastated countryside, the sunken land. "The grade is shallow enough it should be reasonable to walk on, but moving at a regular pace could be hazardous. Everyone should take care."

He angles his head, "The water is a foot or two deep, where it's darker it's deeper. Maybe five feet, maybe bottomless, I can't tell with the reflections. There's a lot of silt."

"There's a lot of weeds, and that cave on the other side." He sounds nervous, "Do you want me to take a closer look."

Zofija isn't happy about the muck, but it has to be dealt with. Screech is even less happy, and the griffon stands even taller than usual to keep as many feathers out of the mud as possible.

"This isn't natural, either. Ground water isn't enough in the area to cause a swamp like this to exist, and the elevation is all off." The Arvek-nar grunts. "Not sure how deep it'll get. I mean, yeah, don't make sense, I guess."

Nemori looks doubfully at the sludgy water, showing no great eagerness to take the first step deeper into the ravine. "I would rather there were another way around," she admits, though the looking for such proves to be fruitless. Once again the thought of suggesting they call it done here passes through her mind.. and once again, considering her companions, she is forced to dismiss it. "I do not know if it is wise for you to separate from us Integrity. We will not be able to swiftly reinforce you.. and have no means for you to talk with us." THe idea that it is unnatural just makes it that more unnerving to the shadow elf.

Git is visibly shaking and when he fumbles a reagent out from a pouch on his hip he has to crouch down and pick it up the little square of leather. He stumbles his way through an incantation and gestures with his fingers. Black, banded armor swaddles the nervous gobber before fading from view. "I see it, too... th-the cave, I mean. It's d-d-d-dark..." He's certainly not volunteering to scout.

There's a keening peel of metal grinding against metal as Heady takes a wider stance, bending over jerkily to consider the slope as Jay describes the hazard.

"I'm bloody well pretty sure there's fish in that well." Tamzin says, grabbing at Nemori's shoulder and pointing at the deeper, darker portion of the water. "I finks, I mean. Wigglin'." She lets the mul'niessa go and slides her pack around, over her chest as she opens the top flap. "Yer should go first, big missy," the freckled scamp opines to Zofija atop Screech.

The insect buzzing continues. The swamp burbles. Hidden frogs croak and chirp.

Nemori doesn't shake Tamzin's grip off; as if trying to live up to her own words to the rough cut young woman, she just nods at Tamzin's observation. "I have no wish to set foot in that," she declares, while taking hold of the token she uses as her divine conduit. A quick prayer and she channels the Muse's power into a charm, allowing herself, Screech and Jay.. and then Tamzin and Heady the ability to walk upon the water. As for Git, she can only shrug at the diminutive, exiled student. "You will have to ride. With someone." This may also keep him from running away.

Zofija blinks, and grunts, giving the small elf a nod. "My thanks, this will make things easier." she replies, and Screech gives a quiet, appreciative chittering noise as they pull their feet and talons free of the muck. "If you can stomach riding with me git, you can get behind me. Just know that if there's anything to be fought, get off as soon as you can, since It's my job to try to make myself the only one getting maimed."

Integrity watchs Nemori as she casts her spell, "I can walk on water? Really?" He immediately goes to test this out, heading down the incline and out onto the water. "Ha! This is awesome! I can't even splash."

He's not being completely reckless, having a hand on his bolas. "So, anyone see tracks near the shore? What would they have been scouting for?"

As Jay walks over the murky water's edge, a slimy creature breaks from the deeper pool's surface with a tiny *skreeeeee* only to land wetly and flop amongst the rubble and mud of the slope. It has a pink, lamprey mouth filled with tiny white, needle teeth and too many little miniature tentacles flail around madly from its oily grey tadpole body. It issues a wet sucking sound as it continues to flop and bounce, its mouth seeking purchase on a living host while its insides wriggle and churn beneath semi-transparent flesh.

It's a revolting little thing and there seems to be more...

The murky waters begin to churn violently at something larger moves towards the surface.