Sunday, August 8, 2021

Cora Returns

A year and a half. 

It may sound like a long time to some, but it's not. Not really. At least not for me, for whom time is essentially meaningless. What is an hour? A day? A week? A month?  

In comparison to the endless stretch of eternity, these things are merely mortal constructions and concepts created to fulfill their need to quantify the space of time that they exist in. Grains of sand in an endless sea of desert. 

.oOo..oOo..oOo.

We were defending a wall. A city under siege. There was a cacophany of chaos and sound, and then an impact. I found myself falling. The glimpse of Tobias' horrified face as I crashed into the rushing river below, one of the last things I recall seeing. I hit the water with enough force that I blacked out... 

Things were dark and cold, and it seemed only to be the blink of an eye. 

When I finally awoke, I found myself laying upon a bier of raised rock and moss. The echoes of a sonorous chanting still resonated in my ears and my bones. A muted, green-tinged shaft of sunlight shone through a small gap, and I slowly sat up and started taking measure of myself and my surroundings. 

I still had my beautifully carved maple and dragonbone bow, and my sword. These laid out beside me carefully, but in pristine condition and within easy reach. My armor was damaged, but still basically functional, and I wore the sheer gauzy green robes that I was fond of, somehow undamaged, like a shroud. I still had a pack, laying against the base of the stones, and it contained the druidic etched scroll tube, though it had obviously been water damaged. It also still contained the small bag of various gemstones that I had collected during previous travels. No food, but a full water skin, a small bottle of olive oil, a small jar of honey, and a bottle of the wine I had come to favor the most were set near the pack as well. 

I moved slowly at first, and discovered that, while stiff and sore from laying on stone for ...however long it has been, I was otherwise uninjured and unmarred. I put myself through a series of gentle stretches and movements to get blood properly flowing again, and then sat down and said a long prayer of thanks.

After a span of time in deep meditation, I looked and saw that the sunlight was coming through what appeared to be a bricked up doorway. I gathered what belongings I still had, worked to pull away the stones, and stepped out into... 

Green. 

So much green. 

I was on a small island, surrounded by murky brown waters. Everything here breathed with verdant, vibrant life and I could feel the ebb and flow of energies swirling around me like a gentle breeze. I looked back at the doorway I just walked through and realized that it was a cairn. I gently restacked the stones and started looking around for pathways that might lead out of the area. 

As I explored I discovered that the area I found myself in was nothing BUT small islands and islets, everything teeming with flora and fauna. I took some time and try to adjust my spells and the magic I pull from to be better suited to the area. It was almost cloying, and I found myself wanting to be away from the damp and the wet and the weight of it. 

A space of time (weeks maybe?) passed, but I eventually found an area where the water moved faster and seemed a bit clearer. I followed this out to a river, and guessed that this was how I got into the marshlands. Having nowhere else to begin, I moved upstream toward where I set about doing what I do best. Tracking. 

It took several more days of steady travel before I reached any signs of population. As much as I dislike going into towns and cities, I looked down at my broken armor and scant supplies, and realized that if I wanted to continue on, this time I would have to. I found a decent looking inn close to the edge of the area to use as a base and began some true reconaissance for the rest of my traveling companions. 

It was here that I learned of the time frame that I was actually missing, and was able to glean through rumors and various tales that the group I sought had understandably moved on, but could not gather enough information to tell me which direction to go next. This town did have a reputable armor shop, thankfully, so I was able to get a new set of fine black leather armor made for me. Supple and strong, it fit me well without encumberance, and I praised the maker on his craft. I was able to replace the torn pouches and bags as well, finding task of reprovisioning in a city to be just as frustrating as I remember it being. 

Once I had gathered what small belongings I had, I set off in search of notable places of power with the thought that the group might be drawn there considering some of the things I remember them having to do. Plus, how difficult should it be to locate a ship that sails on land? 

More difficult than I guessed it would be. 

I traveled again for a span of nameless time, listening to rumors and tales to guide my way. Eventually I came across an old grove in an even older enchanted forest, and remembered that it was once called Druidhome. I stopped here for a while to rest and revel in the peace of the green. Being surrounded by verdant life helps me to keep my memories firmly in the present. It's so easy for me to just let it all disappear into the background when I am on my own. 

While I was resting at Druidhome, I took the time to try to remember what tasks the group had been given before I got separated from them. My hope was that some memory might spark a sense of direction or a recollection of a place where we had been headed. 

I reflected on the wars currently raging, spurred on by the Spider queen and her drow minions, which were the primary focus for the group as a whole. The Spider queen cares not about anything except her endless goal to take over this plane of existence. She almost succeeded 2000 years ago, a memory that has grown dim with age. She was ultimately supplanted by the rise of the human gods and their devotional service to them rather than to the fear that she cultivated and relished in. Replaced and driven under ground to be banished to the dark. It fueled her anger and resentment even further when the elves of the surface worked in direct opposition to her own children, and she continued to lose power in both the Inner and Outer planes. 

This gave rise to a name that rang out like a bell. Trisonora. 

A half breed being from both the divine and material planes. Not wholly of one or the other, but belonging to neither as well. They have the desire to steal a realm for themselves, and the current chaos of the ongoing Dark War leaves the grounds ripe for theft. Their goal is not only the theft of a realm, but the linking of Outer, Inner, and Prime Material worlds. This makes them an immediate threat.

I focused my attentions on these rumors specifically and learned that there is a large city somewhere in the mountains on this continent where humans do not go. I was able to gather enough information to tell me that I should head towards an old mage tower to the north east. 

I did find the tower, crumbling and abandoned, with no sign of any recent traveler near by. There was a large road, however, and so I followed that road through the winter and on into summer. Eventually I did see the city I guessed was Barth off in the distance, about two or three days journey away. Deciding to continue that direction the next morning, I foraged for a bit and then made a small camp for the night. A stranger approaced and asked if they could share my fire, and I welcomed them with the offer of a shared meal. During the conversations shared, the stranger told me of an odd meeting he had only two mountain ridges over from where we were, with a group of "those human types, plus two elves, all on a ship with wheels!"

So I turned my head toward the road behind me, and set off the next morning in search of the group I knew to be the traveling companions I searched for. The human natives of the area are kind, if extremely skittish and wary of me. They think I am some sort of spirit-made-flesh, and tend to be almost reverential when I come to them for trade or for news of the area. The land here never goes green, and is constantly wreathed in snow and ice, but they are a hearty folk and I enjoy spending time with them when we encounter one another. 

Recently, they have been speaking to me about a "dark one" off the road to the south, towards the cities. They say that he can be trusted, only in that what he says tends to be true. But they warn that he also talks with bones, which is something that one shouldn't do. They call him "Nanaquin" which I learned means only "not of the ice, not of the people."

It makes me wonder what they call me. 

Regardless though, this Nanaquin seems to be exactly the sort of person that the group I seek would try to find. So maybe I could speak with them to find out how close I am to finally locating the adventurers. 

I found my way to a house that matched the description that I was given, but there was something that put me ill at ease about it. It was well after nightfall, so I moved cautiously, keeping to the edge of the path, but staying in the shelter and cover of the trees and doing my best to stay silent and stay hidden until I could discover more. There was a clearing with a raging bonfire in the center, but the fire was .. there was a wrongness about it. The flames were not natural colors, and there was a figure moving in slow circles around it, voicing a deep low chanting sound that seemed oddly familiar. That same resonance I felt in my bones when I first woke up in the marshlands. 

It put me on edge and made me instinctively check my weapons and surroudings, which is when I heard something crashing along the road with enough noise that it could wake the dead. After a few more moments, I could hear a number of different voices that seemed to be arguing about who would go up the road and who would stay behind with the supplies. 

I had to smile to myself when I recognized Tobais' voice among them, realizing that I had indeed finally found the group I sought. I smiled too, at the familiarness of it all, to think that this was what they thought of as being stealthy and I moved more into the cover of the trees so that I could make my way closer to them. It was nice to know that some things didn't change. They kept arguing about what their next steps should be, when two of them pointed out that they thought that they noticed something else in the woods as well. Realizing that they meant me, and not wanting to risk being attacked, I stepped out of the shadows silently and told them that they really needed to work on being more quiet. 

The look of awed amazement and the immediate bombardment of questions that I got was almost enough to make me laugh aloud. Oh, how I have missed this ecclectic group of adventurers. 

I noticed there were a couple of new faces in the sea of familiar ones, but realized that the reunion would need to wait at least a little while longer. I told them quietly that I would answer their questions soon enough, but the person ahead of them demanded our immediate attention. I told them what I knew of him, and suggested a cautious approach.

So, as a group, we approached the chanting man to see him talking with a figure shrouded in the flames who spoke of wars and the goddess walking again. The figure was large, towering over 8 feet, and continued to tell Nanaquin about the "emmisary of the Dark One" that he was supposed to meet and deliver a message to. After the conversation completed, the figure vanished, and some of the party members strode into the clearing as bold as brass.

Nanaquin glared at them and accused them of coming to set his house on fire again. There's a story there that I am sure I will hear about later. They somehow bluffed their way past that part of the conversation and lead him to believe that THEY were the emmissaries that he had been instructed to find and that they would be the ones that delivered the message to where it needed to go. 

I am not sure how exactly they got him to believe it, but believe it he did. He handed over a scroll case that was clearly carved from the femur bone of a human. He told us of a rest stop where we would meet our contact, and that further instructions would follow there. 

The scroll tube was accepted, and we moved away back down the road to regroup and figure out next steps. 


.oOo..oOo..oOo.

Author's Note: 

5 years of real time have passed since the last update here. In that time frame, massive life changes happened to turn my world upside down. But I'm back to gaming again, and have been able to rejoin the previous gaming crew with an old familiar character. It's good to be back. ~ NKH


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