Starting Date and Time: 45th Day of Ceruleo, 300 DM, Sunrise

Starting Location: Stone Crest, at the gate leading up into the Indiga Mountains

CS URLs: Alya & Rilana & Chartrose & GM

The winds howled loudly through the snow covered village of Stone Crest. Many of the residents were used to it, but this year it seemed the snow was determined to be nonstop and much heavier than in recent times. The village had been quite peaceful since the last Reckoning in Mauven, which put the village in control by Captain Iy'kayia and her company of Drow and Orcs, usurping the previous residents of Humans and Deep Dwarves. The captain found herself standing there, bundled in the specially made wolverine furs lining her armor, scimitars hanging in their scabbards at her hips. She'd been made aware of this expedition when Lord Knight Svarak's squire, Tomas, arrived with various orders, and she decided to join up.

She knew there wouldn't be another attempt at a Reckoning for at least two more seasons, so she could risk it for the fun of the journey. And it would look good for a possible promotion, after all, the current Warden overseeing Stone Crest was getting quite old. This would be a chance to truly test her skills before challenging him. She scratched at the ear of her mount for this trip, a rather large ram, courtesy of the Frost Trolls further up in Indiga. They'd originally had horses slated for this journey, but southern horses just couldn't cut the cold or the snow. The only horse joining them would be ridden by the new Envoy. She'd arrived a few days earlier with Tomas, and was apparently in charge of the entire expedition. Some old law from over three hundred years ago. That disgusted the captain. The woman was just a mere civilian, yet would outrank all of them. And Envoy wasn't a position that could be won by blood either, so she couldn't simply kill the woman to move up.

Tomas wasn't joining them, as he'd given her all the appropriate paperwork, muttering something about having to cover Svarak's work, whatever that meant, before returning to the capital. Another drow woman began walking over, and Iy'kayia felt her frown deepen. Warden Knight Drisceya. She'd managed to join in the expedition despite her high rank, due to her extreme knowledge of the Underdark. There were no others more adept in traveling through there. It was simply the Knights being extra cautious, unsure if the passes would be accessible during the winter. It irked the captain having yet another person that outranked her, especially another drow woman.

The warden said nothing, climbing into the sagging saddle of a ram, smiling like a spider as only drow can. After several long moments, "Well done on winning your Reckoning, I hear you suffered very minimal losses."

The captain grinned slightly at the recognition, "Thank you Warden." She almost bragged, but thought better of it.

"Captain is a good rank for you, I'm sure that it is one you will hold for a very long time."

The compliment felt like a slap across the face to the captain, suggesting that she didn't have the strength to go any higher. It infuriated her, and she could do nothing but accept it. "Thank you Warden."

The pair watched in silence as the rest of the group slowly gathered together over the course of the next stretch. Civilians had been allowed, and even encouraged to come, and the Knights would even foot the bill. Though it still seemed as though many had the common sense to not attempt something so dangerous as a mountain trek mid winter. The knights only had four representatives attending, the envoy, and four other civilians, bringing the group to a total size of nine. There was a mute girl with a young wolf accompanied by a drunkard hunter, a mercenary, and a rather fat Homunculus that was a recognized medic from the capital. The other two knights were both unranked, though one was brought in for he knew many languages of the races that they might encounter en route, both human men.

After the entire group was assembled, the unranked knight, Beran, asked a simple question, "Why's there another ram saddled?" A quick glance confirmed that it was so, in addition to the unmounted rams that were being brought solely for the purpose of carrying supplies.

Iy'kayia rolled her eyes, "That squire of Svarak's probably messed up his paperwork. Never trust a squire."

Then a voice that many knew boomed out, chuckling lightly as he spoke, "Oh come now, if there's anyone I trust it would be that squire of mine." Lord Svarak was seated upon the chimney of a house near the gate, with no indication of how long he'd been there watching them in silence. All the Knights grew wide eyed in their surprise, no expecting the most powerful knight to be here. He hopped down lightly, glancing at each member of the party in turn, his eyes linger on Rilana's for just a moment longer than anyone else's. "Well Envoy, are we ready to go?" With that, he climbed into his saddle with feline ease, his standard Ebonsteel shining, contrasted by his crystalline greatsword strapped to his back. An observant person would notice he wore no extra furs, and seemed perfectly comfortable in the frigid cold.

Before moving out the Stone Crest, Alya had met up with her..'companion' or 'mentor', whichever was meant to be his title, but as of right now, he was just a drunken mess. Lyle Spikebush, as reliable as ever, stumbled out of the tavern to convene with his contracted, mute companion. Much to his dismay, but he was the one who arranged this meeting in the first place. Alya greeted her mentor with a nervous smile, she wasn't really sure what he was going to say, but she hoped it was something good? "I've heard tha-at you 'aven't been outside 'a Green Fall since that blasted tournament.. Some travelling bard you are!" He spat out the moment he saw her. Alya winced and looked at the ground in embarrassment. He was shrewd even when drunk. "Come with me.. We're goin' to Frig..Whatever.. with some ebon-guys and some Moon Fey woman. I got business up there." He said in a calmer tone, much to Alya's surprise. A Moon Fey? Rilana! She smiled at Lyle and nodded excitedly, Echo was equally as excited, since he also realized who would be there. Khona. To Alya, Rilana was a very beautiful and kind woman. Seeing her friend again would be great.

---

The group of knights and other civilians had gathered, counting up to 9, including Alya and Lyle. She was wrapped in a fur cloak in order to keep warm, provided by Lyle from the 'kindness of his heart' as he put it. He also forced a pair of fur boots onto Alya's feet to prevent her usually bare feet from frostbite.

As they merge with the group, Alya spots Rilana, and promptly walks over to her to greet her, giving a brief bow and a warm smile. Echo followed up with an excited YIP! as they both greeted the Moon Fey. The presence of Lord Svarak and the other Ebonknights didn't concern her in the slightest, however, Lyle was a little on edge, taking deep gulps of his flask, which one would guess is filled with alcohol.

The first lump of snow on the road to Stone Crest was little more than a brownish smear in the shade of a wagon-scratched stump. Even so, Rilana was so starved for a breath of home that she leaned back in her saddle to slow the stocky fjord-horse to a stop, staring down at the slush for so long that the squire Tomas rode back to see what she was doing.

"What's wrong?" he asked, following her gaze with his brows furrowed under his thatch of flaxen hair. Tomas may have been a squire to the Lord Knight of the Citadel, but Rilana wondered if he might be suited to the work of a scribe more than squire.

You don't even like to think his name, Kona pointed out inside her mind. He was not talking about Tomas.

Perhaps it's safer?

You're putting something off.

Again, perhaps that's for the best. When it came to the Lord Knight, her feelings were a tangle, and she was afraid that if she picked through them she wouldn't like what she found in the middle.

He may have been a southlander knight in training, but Tomas wasn't burden on the road. He handled his horse with ease and a kindness that Rilana appreciated on the steed's behalf. Their first hours had been spent mostly in silence punctuated only by the clip-clop of hooves on the road and the occasional discussion of the mission Rilana was expected to lead from Stone Crest. But while the pale moon fey may have preferred to keep her silence, Tomas turned out to be less of a stick-in-the-mud than she had assumed. It turned out that he was the son of a rancher and a silent hunter in Green Fall and on the second day they found it easy to talk about animals. A safe subject.

"It's nothing," she reassured him, turning to him with a pretty smile that, while somewhat sad had still made him feel the need to sit a bit straighter in his saddle. His reaction was curious, and perhaps for the sole reason that there wasn't much else to do, Rilana fluttered her eyelashes at him and grinned when his cheeks turned red.

And then the snow began to fall and Rilana nearly wept as the sparkly flakes settled in her hair. The lightest dusting, of course, but it lightened Rilana's heart all the same. She let the young man lead the way, smiling gently when he turned to look at her, but her thoughts were mostly elsewhere.

For one thing, the balauradon was getting larger by the day and was no longer content to sleep in a rapidly degrading leather satchel. Even with the snow falling, the two-headed beast had learned to ride on the carefully-wrapped gear strapped over Bruin's haunches, her claws dug into the thick leather, both heads looking in different directions. She sometimes followed along behind the horses, prowling along in a zig-zag between the edges of the road, but as she was not yet able to get back up on the horse herself Rilana frequently had to stop and pick her up. Each day this became less, though, as the moon fey continually worked on training the beast to be less of a burden on the travelers. Who knew what hardships they might face on the road to Frigmount that might make the strangers she was responsible for begrudge the habits and ways of their guide?

And when the chimera was resting obediently behind her, Rilana found the piece of onyx in her hand, her fingers rubbing the smooth bumps for hours at a time as she considered the otherworldly animal. She had named the creature Ortha, and used her dagger to finish the piece of onyx with details that made the resemblance to the two-headed creature uncanny. As unwise as it had seemed at first, there was surely already a bond between her and the baby she had rescued from the tourney grounds. So when she realized that not only was she suddenly able to feel the Bonded creature's magic as a presence behind her but that she was almost unconsciously guiding it towards the lump of rock in her hand, the Druid hesitated on the precipice of making an irreversible decision.

Kona?

Had the gryphon been tangible at the moment he would have looked over at the balauradon with his beak lifted in distaste. It was no secret that he didn't think highly of the oft-clumsy extradimensional Ortha. But he couldn't deny the kind of person he belonged to and eventually gave a flip of his long feathered tail.

You think it unwise to make a Familiar out of her for a reason no more noble than to protect her from a world where she doesn't belong.

Rilana could see him peering at her out of one eye, one of his ear-tufts quirked at a roguish angle. Her doubts laid bare, she waited to hear what he would say.

I can't think of a more noble reason. What are Druids for? I love you for caring what I think, but I love you enough to want to share you with someone who needs it.

"I love you too, Kona," she whispered out loud, grinning as the gryphon swept away her hesitation as easily as flapping his wings could sweep new snow off a boulder. She wondered if he would be so generous with sharing a piece of her heart if she wanted to give it to...

Hearing her voice, Tomas dropped his horse back so he could look at the beautiful tall woman, his eyes falling to her tightly-clenched fist.

"What was that?"

It was perhaps this moment that Rilana began to walk the path of a Druid like she owned it. She could feel the support of her intelligent Familiar as a bolster when she turned back to Ortha with a purpose, guiding the black creature's essence into the little effigy. Ortha woke up, blinking the eyes of each head at different times. Standing on her hind legs, she sprang unsteadily to Rilana's shoulder and then oozed down into her lap, grumbling and grawping at the sensation of arcane power that lay thick and invisible around the unlikely party. Even Bruin tossed his head, his ears angling backwards as he glanced at his riders to see what Rilana was up to. But whether by his training or his trust, he trodded onwards.

Rilana's hand opened, partly so that she could watch what happened and partly because the stone was growing warm. It was a feverish simmer that perfectly matched the balauradon's inner heat. The stone began to glow, the knife-scratches growing shiny and blurring as though the object was about to melt. And it did shift like slow liquid, hardening from nose to tail as the features became more recognizible and infinitely more definied, until a miniature balauradon rested lifelessly but eerily lifelike, a stark contrast to the moon fey's white skin. Her other hand stroked Ortha's tough warm hide affectionately, relishing their new, permanent connection.

And the magic didn't fade away as soon as the deed was done, but seemed to settle around Rilana in the way a warm blanket might comfort someone who could actually feel the winter's chill. The last few months had been horrible, and the next few months promised to be just as uncomfortable, but in this moment Rilana decided that she could afford to let happiness wash over her.

With a dazzling grin, she glanced up at Tomas. He was staring with wide eyes and his mouth open, but to his credit he hadn't backed away. It occured to Rilana that perhaps she shouldn't have been so open with magic in front of a knight. Or squire. Whatever.

Stop that. We're going home. No need to hide it anymore.

While she tucked the brand new Effigy into a pouch on her hip, she giggled at Tomas' expression, a rare sparkle of mischief in her eyes. "You like that? You should see my other one."

Kona purred.

--

The arrival in Stone Crest was a bit of a surprise for Rilana. On her way down to Ebonfort the first time, the mining village had seemed huge and full of the wonder of strange people and stranger customs. But after the oppressive might of Ebonfort and everything else she had been through, even Stone Crest seemed like a step back towards the familiar. The fact that the icy wind toyed playfully with her braided hair only helped.

But in the day or so before it was actually time to gather with the expedition, Rilana's optimism began to wane. In the marketplace she replaced Ortha's satchel with one that wasn't only larger, but better made and more ornate as well. While passing her money to the half-drow shopkeeper, she overheard two Frost Trolls muttering about a 'magician' in the mountains. Rilana also noticed that the number of dwarves and humans in Stone Crest seemed to have dwindled significantly since she was last here. That might have been expected with winter in full force, but there were so many drow and orcs now... And she didn't like the way they looked at Ortha.

With the new satchel, some extra food, and a pair of soft moccasins she hadn't been able to resist, she headed back to the gate where the delegation would assemble and waited.

--

The sight of the saddled rams brought a smile to Rilana's face. The horned shaggy beasts were known for the sure-footedness and knowing that the southlanders wouldn't be trying to trek through the mountains on the backs of their thin-skinned horses was a huge relief. The rams could also eat just about anything and wouldn't end up foundering after weeks on ice.

Perched comfortably on Bruin's back, Rilana's gaze slid to the north, her mind flying far ahead of where her eyes could see as she considered the paths that would take them to Frigmount. The mountain pass would be far quicker, though in the best of times it would be more treacherous.

"Don't take the mountain passes. It is death."

The prophetic comment imparted on her by the Ebonfort paige had been a chilling message indeed. She hadn't thought about it much on the journey with Tomas, but couldn't help hearing the words now with the snowy mountains in front of her. People began to arrive and she turned Bruin to face them, her cold blue eyes searching each in turn.

Who among them could she trust? Which would be a burden on the journey ahead? She moved silently down the line, meeting the eyes of those who looked at her, observing their gear, knowing it would be the last chance to make sure these people were properly outfitted. It was still impossible to determine the ranks of the knights by their sashes or pins, and she noticed that most of the knights eyed her own silver sash curiously as she passed. The moon fey had it tied fetchingly around her waist, the tails dangling down her left hip, not really caring if it was correct so long as it didn't get in her way.

And because she didn't want it close to her neck. Something about draping it over her shoulder and down her torso seemed stifling.

Rilana passed a drow woman and almost lifted her hand to make the silent gesture of greeting. Her sign-language was tragically rudimentary, but she had met one or two of the dark elves in her travels. But her hand fell back to her lap when she met the woman's eyes and was surprised to find open dislike etched in those ebon features. She aught to have been upset, but somehow it was almost comforting. The expression was what she had expected to find on every face once she had left the Frostfell. For once she didn't feel her pulse quicken with fear. Instead, perhaps only because she was so very tired of worrying, her eyes hardened icily before she moved on without a word.

And her expression changed once again when she noticed a direwolf pup covorting in the snow. A red direwolf pup! "Alya!" Her tone was one of pleasant surprise and she chuckled happily, sliding from Bruin's back as nimbly as a cat. Ortha, who had been gnawing thoughtfully on the end of Rilana's longbow where it was strapped within arm's reach on the top of her gear, slid down into the saddle, long plated tail waving as one head followed the yipping wolf while the other was looking up at one of the roofs, perhaps spotting a dark figure lurking there.

Waiting only until Alya straightened up, Rilana simply crouched slightly and wrapped her arms around Alya's shoulders in a hug. "What are you doing here? I never expected to see you again. I can't tell you how glad I am to be wrong." It might be a hard journey for someone so small, but Rilana was the last person to doubt someone like Alya. "I can't wait to show you my home! And I bet Echo will get along great with the moon-sledders. Do you have gear?" She straightened up, almost bubbling over with happiness at having someone along who she might even call a friend.

She chuckled, glancing down to make sure Alya was at least wearing shoes, realizing that the flute-player wouldn't be able to answer her without scrounging for a scrap of paper and a pencil nib. "Well if you're needing something I made sure to bring extra. Don't bother writing to me now. We can catch up tonight once we set up camp. We're going to leave soon so go get on your ram." She turned back to Bruin, but not before glancing at Lyle, still grinning prettily, though her eyebrow quirked at the flask in his hand.

"Move, Ortha." She put a foot in the stirrup and swung up, the balauradon moving just in time to avoid being sat on.

The fact that there was an extra ram meant little to Rilana. If anything, it would be wise to have an extra beast in case something happened to one of the others, or as a way to carry any extra gear. Guiding Bruin to the front of the line she turned back to announce that it was time to head out when a voice from up high interrupted her. A voice that was uncomfortably familiar.

What were you saying about him not needing you if he was going to be here himself? Kona's displeasure mirrored her own, but for different reasons. Rilana didn't answer because nothing she could think of was comforting. Perhaps this was just a lack of trust, which in truth she couldn't say she blamed him for.

Any optimism buttressed by meeting Alya again and knowing that her home was so close was dashed the moment Svarak dropped down from the roof. She met his gaze but couldn't hold it, glancing away. The flash of the cat's eyes stirred something. A memory? Something dark and oppressive. A dream, perhaps. She idly plucked at the silver sash around her waist and simply waited until he climbed up onto his ram.

Glancing down the line at the waiting faces, Rilana straightened a little and nodded. "Yes. Let's go. Once the road splits we'll take the forest path. I don't want to take the mountain pass." She didn't explain why. Turning in her saddle, she raised her voice so that the rest could hear her. "Alright everyone. Time to move out."

Bruin's black tail swished as he passed the gate, his ears pricked forwards eagerly.

Chartose came to the group after a very hard week of escorting and saving damsels of various degrees of ill-repute. Usually by this time of year he'd reserve an inn until Saffra just for Tricia his scream raptor's sake, as the lizard didn't really care much for winter. Going into Fridgemount did not seem to help with her disposition any, even with the canvas-tarp and some spare blankets draped over her for a bit more warmth he knew this was going to be difficult for his stead.

Still, he'd left Becker back at the local inn to watch over the tavern-owner's things, since finding room and board for a dog was a much simpler task than for an uncouth charr mercenary and his scream-raptor.

He shifted uneasily in his saddle as he approached the foothills of the indiga mountains, the many coins of pieces of mildly-valuable metals jingling in his battered old pack as he glanced across the party that lay before him. Moon Fey ('Elf'), a drow night-elf ('elf'), half-elf (elf'd again), ork (bacon), yet another slightly less fancy drow ('elf'), and a smattering of about a quarter-dozen humans for racial-equality and/or cannon-fodder.

For a long minute, he considered trying to compliment Svaarick on making a good entrance, but quickly decided he was already well-aware of it.

Despite all these very observant eyes, the idea of summoning Becker to his backpack with a fresh load of warm blankets was still fresh in his mind as a stiff breeze ruffled his fur. Otherwise he'd have to start a fire, or worse -share a tent.

Svarak looked curiously at Rilana from his seat, wondering why she was avoiding the easier mountain pass. They'd have to cross mountains regardless, and taking the other route meant harder climbing. But she was the expert. He could easily get himself to Frigmount, but he wasn't as sure about dragging along an entire expedition. And the small forest would be a nice trip down memory lane, it had been ages, just like everything else. Maybe he wouldn't return to Ebonfort at all, and retire to a hermit's life somewhere far from people. If he had time left after, that is.

A flick of the reins sent him forward, and the entire expedition moved out, leaving the curious onlookers behind. The first few days passed without incident, as they followed the rocky, coniferous lined path, until it dwindled into the forest proper. The trees here were large, old, and untouched. They were too far from civilization to really be bothered with. But something felt... wrong, felt off. It was already dark from the thick clouds dropping snow across the land, but it was much darker beneath the pine branches. As they ventured deeper, the rams began to get skittish, snorting and looking around nervously.

The unranked knights were looking around in nervous curiosity, the drow women apathetic, and Svarak just smiling, reminiscing. As they crossed a shallow stream, the air felt stale, and the feeling of dread grew. Svarak was chuckling quietly to himself, as his sword glowed dully. "Envoy, you might want to slow the pace. I didn't realized they'd survived all these years. And they still have their magic it seems. Just need to be slow and steady, and not harm anything."

Echo was growling nervously, but couldn't pick something to direct his efforts toward. Neither of the drow women spoke up, and most people knew drow could see heat signatures. There were no obvious signs of danger anywhere, snow covered trees, a few uncovered, rocks, bare shrubbery, and game paths going every which way. Svarak was simply enjoying the ride, smirking slightly, curious to see what the Envoy did when she didn't have all the information.

To most of Rilana's questions and statements, Alya gave a rather excited nod and a bright smile. She knew that it would use up too much time to bring out her writing utensils to respond, as the Moon Fey had stated. When their brief 'conversation' had ended, Alya, with the help of an irritated Lyle, saddled onto a ram which was supposedly hers. Since she was extremely light, the ram didn't seem to notice that she had even gotten on.

Lyle clicked his tongue when the Moon Fey greeted him with a plastered on smile. "Tch. Bloody foreigners.." He mumbled as he saddled onto a ram. Alya's keen hearing caused her to whip her head around to give Lyle a slight glare, to which Lyle responded with a another irritated tongue click as he gulped from his flask again.

Alya was quite excited when the expedition group moved out, but her excitement slowly faded into a feeling neutrality as they moved continuously without much change in scenery. As the coniferous environment changed to a deciduous forest, Alya felt a chill go down her spine, but she didn't give it any extra thought, thinking that it was just a chill from the weather. It was quite dark, that much Alya could tell, but she couldn't discern anything beyond that. Echo, however, growled nervously but overall he seemed very confused. His Wolf mother noticed his actions and clicked her fingers twice. Immediately, Echo leapt onto her lap but he remained nervous still keeping a low growling noise.

Perhaps she should play some music to soothe everyone? But then she remembered what Trix had said about the Ebonknights and the disappearances of Mages. So she refrained from even lifting her flute to her lips, just in case they somehow catch on that she has magic.

Whatever her misgivings, Envoy Rilana took her task seriously. It wasn't necessarily the repercussions of failing Svarak and his knights that worried her, but the simple fact of not being able to live with herself if harm came to these people under her care. Harm she might be able to avoid. Still certain that she was not the right person for this, no matter what Svarak has said, she lead the group into the wilds, using a lifetime of wandering to help her guide them. It was an interesting exercise, forcing her to put intuition and instinct into words when one of the knights or civilians asked her about her choices. Mostly she rode next to Alya and Echo, finding the diminutive mute's presence comforting even without the distraction of conversation. But sometimes she rode next to Svarak at the head of the line, though she did not speak to him much. Instead, she spoke to Kona inside her mind, her placid expression sometimes cracking to reveal a smile or a frown when the invisible gryphon said something exceptionally noteworthy.

The only thing that offered her a majour distraction in those first few days was Cartrose's scream-raptor, which the druid found fascinating even though she wasn't sure a reptile belonged in the icy Frostfell at all. When the trail was easy and clear, she had a million questions for the Charr mercenary about his mount, and was both disappointed and relieved that talking to him didn't make her nearly as uncomfortable as Svarak did.

At night, she looked after her horse before she looked after herself, brushing him down and scraping all the ice from his fetlocks, picking stones from his shoe-less hooves and wrapping him with a fur-lined blanket before she turned in. She curled up with Ortha in her tiny tent and slept fitfully, dreaming horrible dreams.

When the expedition crossed into the greener woods, the darkness under the trees didn't bother her at first. Snow always had a tendency to make things look grim and gloomy as it settled on high boughs and blocked out the light, muffling the world. But when the mounts and Echo began to fuss, Rilana watched the forest around them with care. She expected wolves or direwolves. Or a leopard. Even gryphons or bears or cave lions. But she saw nothing exceptional.

Kona?

I sense nothing that you don't.

You might if I let you out.

But she wasn't quite ready to perform that trick in public.

Ortha isn't bothered.

Her instincts mean nothing in this place.

It was true. The plate-skinned reptilian chimera was draped over Bruin's saddlebags, watching Echo with one head and the closest ram with the other, seemingly unphased with what was irritating the rest of the animals. Even the fjord-horse was tossing his mane, and when he looked sharply in one direction or the other, Rilana could see the whites of his eyes.

The moon fey's expression was stony in response to Svarak's words and she pulled Bruin off the trail.

How helpful he is.

Whatever it is, game passes through here often enough. But I don't see anything in the trees.

It was wrong for it to smell so stale and stuffy. The air should have been crisp and fresh with the scent of sap from the trees.

The trees. Rilana's eyes rose slowly, considering the woody limbs and trunks as though seeing them for the first time.

"They"?

Stars above, I hope that's not what he meant!

With a tone that was both calm and stern, "If everyone would just continue in single file, please. Slow and steady. Put your ram's nose in the tail of the one in front of you and keep going. No weapons, no torches, and no talking."

The discussions Chartose managed to have with the group's envoy were... pleasant. As she seemed to have a decent amount of concern for everyone's well-being balanced with knowledge of the ground ahead and interest in anything unknown to her kind, which mostly found its way back to something his scream-raptor would do whenever the group was idle.

At the same time, care had to be taken to convince Tricia not to eat the envoy's fjord-horse.

Keeping a fully-grown scream-raptor was a challenge, however; becoming an ever-greater uphill struggle until they came under the well-insulated protective shelter of a thick snow-bound forest-canopy. Despite there being very little light, the ground appeared lush and green, albeit a little soft and swampy. The air, although stale, was surprisingly warm; Tricia would often poke her snout out from under the tarp in an effort to get some fresher air, and to cool-off, but was actually finding it difficult to achieve either.

However, while crossing a refreshingly-cool stream, the mood suddenly turned sour as Rilana ordered everyone to close-ranks and tread carefully. It was even stranger that this order had occurred after fording a stream without incident. The instinct to climb a tree for a better vantage point was strong, but for the time, he simply made-sure Tricia could cast-off her heavy covers should they need to flee up one of the trees.

Excluding Svarak, Lyle seemed to be the only person in the party not on edge. Probably because he'd been drinking nonstop since well before his arrival. He finished his flask, and pulled another out of his seemingly endless supply. As he uncorked it, the bottle cracked, and his eyes grew wide at the possibility of wasting the precious alcohol. So he quickly downed, chugging the burning, low end firewater. "Keepin' a.. bushted flashk ish bad..." he belched loudly, "Luck."

Before anyone could stop him by word or action, he chucked the bottle into the woods hard. The bottle tumbled end over end, before shattering against a tree trunk. The creepy vibe everyone had felt before just became one of rage and anger. There was a shimmer, as if there were heat waves passing in front of the tree. And what went from a perfectly normal seeming white oak, came a toothy monstrosity. It snarled loudly, and soon every single tree within sight shimmered and became the monsters that now surrounded the group.

Lyle guffawed loudly in his saddle, "Well, that must've been a special batch! I'll have to thank that buxom wench. Wushername, Charla or somethin."

The treant that had been attacked by the bottle stormed the group aggressively, stopping right in the face of Lyle, roaring loudly, blowing his hair back, showering him in various insects, moss, and forest detritus. "Oy, ya challenging me tree?" Lyle was glaring down the creature with drunken hubris, his ram surprisingly holding its ground.

"That's no tree. Those are treants. And there are many, many more than there ever were. And yes, she is challenging you. And if you don't accept, we'll have to fight our way out."

While speaking, Svarak had shot a wink at the two drow women. Svarak continued, "This is your fault," his voice accusing and aggressive, "I doubt your charge and her wolf would survive such an attempt." It seemed as if he were purposefully egging on the drunkard. And it worked. "OY! I ain't gonna let shum flea bitten housh cat or shome shtupid tree bitch call me a coward! Like Ned Peter Horrish says, challenge acshepted!"

During his loud outbursts, the two women had managed to slip from their rams, and disappear, for even the other treants were preoccupied. The drunkard hopped from his mount with a grace that truly shouldn't have been possible. The treants moved back from the female, giving her and Lyle space. He looked over his shoulder at Alya, "Y'all get goin. I'll catch up." A second treant stood near the first, "Though it sheems I'll need a shecond..."

Svarak nodded, and flicked the reins, his ram leading the way, not wanting to waste his time being a backup. There was a very unusual bird call to the east, and Svarak turned toward it. Another call from the west answered in reply. "It seems we have two paths before us. Northwest deeper into the forest or northeast into the mountains. Our scouts just confirmed them both. If this is just the beginning of the treants, there will be many more deeper in, more aggressive, territorial, and larger. Then there's the unknown mountains."

He was looking directly at Rilana as he said this, then his eyes flicked over his shoulder. Lyle had drawn his battle axes, and roared as he charged the treant. A massive tree fist smashed down toward him, that he leapt away from at the last second, and answered with a chop from his axe and a laugh. Anyone looking at his face could see that there was genuine happiness there.

Then a familiar face revealed itself to the Envoy. Her mercurial companion, the white raven arrived, alighting on her saddle. In her beak, she held an icy blue scale, radiating coldness, offering it to Rilana, before squawking gleefully, and taking off toward the northeast.

Normally Alya ignored most of what Lyle had to say, since all he ever did was drink and get drunk. By what Rilana had told everyone, they were meant to remain silent and aware, however the drunkard was anything but. She glanced over at Lyle as he spoke to himself, she wished that she could tell him off, but she had neither the voice nor the desire to go against the Moon Fey's instruction. Echo let out a low growl at the hunter as though he was taking his mother's place in telling people off. Alya gave the wolf pup a head rub to calm him down, since she didn't want to make too much noise.

However, things suddenly turned for the worse as Lyle's flask clanked on a tree after he threw it away. She felt a chill go down her spine as she saw a tree turn into something..terrible. She was scared, she just stared at the monstrosity, her eyes flicking around only to see a few more appear. Echo's growling resumed as he tried to intimidate the toothy trees to keep them away from Alya. However the tree's weren't phased by it and focused their attention on Lyle.

A treant? Alya thought as Svarak spoke. She hadn't actually noticed his presence until now, only to see a giant cat in magnificent looking armor and sword. Alya remembered stories that her parents used to tell her when she was younger, about how the treants would come out at night and steal naughty children who stayed in the forest for too long. It was an old Green Fall tale, but she never thought that they'd be real.

She watched helplessly as Lyle challenged the treants, it didn't look like he was going to survive for very long, but Alya had known Lyle for awhile now. If he was sober, he'd probably would have less of a chance against such monsters. He looks like he's having fun... she sighed, she was worried about nothing.

She thought about the paths that Svarak spoke of. She thought that she'd prefer to go into the mountains so they could be away from the trees, but the decision wasn't up to her. She looked over at Rilana, only to see a white..bird? Raven. Holding something.. blue and icy. It looked colder than the snow.

Lyle was several people back in the line from where Rilana had been leading the group, so she hadn't realized just how hopelessly sauced he had become. It was tragic just how close but yet how far away he was on his own saddle-beast when he lifted his arm to throw the flask.

"No, wait!--" Rilana hissed, lifting her hand as though she could will the broken thing to halt in its trajectory. The sound of fracturing glass against the Moon Fey's eardrums sounded as concussive as a bomb, but it was nothing to the sound that happened next. Rilana managed to shoot Lyle a frigid glare before more important things demanded her attention. The creaking of wood and the rustling of snow and ice-laden limbs as the very trees began to creak and shift in ways that were unnatural and deeply terrifying. Trees were steadfast silent sentinels, a backdrop of life against which the animals Rilana knew best performed the screenplay of their primal dramas. Trees did not glare and snarl and bare vicious teeth, moving with swift indignation to challenge drunkards.

Kona's reaction to the danger was strong, and even as Rilana felt the gryphon's instinct to take flight surge through her so strongly that she almost assumed a winged form herself and abandoned the group to the treant's ire, her skin and back prickled as the familiar's Mark flapped his wings.

Let's fly!

No! Refusing him was difficult. They weren't often at odds.

Instead, the moon fey kicked her calves against Bruin's sides. The sensation of the bulky beast underneath her helped ground her, and it gave the trained horse some direction. He had been pacing and stomping in place at the first shimmer revealing the treants. But now he edged towards the stream, the one place that wasn't swarming with walking flora. Rilana for the knights and the rest of the party to follow quickly. If the treants swarmed en masse, they would all die. Short of truly flying away, there was no way they could face so many.

But the massacre didn't come. The treants lingered in a circle around Lyle and Rilana remained silent, blue eyes flicking back and forth as Svarak finally volunteered something informative and useful.

Well that's a relief. Let the idiot get himself killed, we can get far away by the time they turn their attention to us.

There was a strange trilling call, and then another. Rilana's eyes narrowed as she glanced at the two empty saddles that had previously been occupied by drow. Knowing that the rams would soon take it upon themselves to flee danger without the direction of their absent riders, Rilana stooped to grab their reigns and thrusted one set into the hands of one of the knights to pony with him until the ebon-skinned women returned.

The Moon Fey was getting angry, her gaze icy as she moved Bruin closer to Alya. "I'm not sure where you picked that one up, Alya, but I'm not going to put everyone else at risk to save a drunkard. If anyone wants to fight with him, be my guest, but I'm not going to wait until someone else gives the rest of these treants a reason to kills us all." She handed Alya the second set of reigns. "Loop this around your saddle-horn so it wont run off."

There was a rhythmic crunching of hooves on snow as Rilana spun Bruin and trotted him to ride beside Svarak. Her lips pursed in a thin line as she listened to him, cold in her irritation and strain in her shoulders under the hateful gazes of the angry treants. Ortha, who had been spitting and hissing with both maws at the treants from the dubious safety of Rilana's saddle, finally quieted as her attention was refocused to the task of hanging on.

"I didn't want to take the mountain pass. I thought the forest would be easier for..." she tried to think of a kind word "...amateurs. Perhaps if I had taken this route myself on my way south I would have learned better." Admitting her fault was easy, making the decision to change her decision was harder. "But now it seems the safer road. Treacherous, but at least I am more familiar with it." She took a breath, as though about to add something else, but after a searching look into the charr's eyes she simply let it out and shook her head. It wasn't the whole truth, but this wasn't the time to talk of stable boys who spoke in prophecy.

Rilana glanced back at Lyle as she moved the party away from the fight, but a feathery fluttering against her torso and a throaty cackle distracted her from what she assumed would be Lyle's last moments alive.

"Oh! I thought I'd lost you in Stone Crest." She couldn't help but grin as she looked down into the bright blue eye of the silver-white raven. Somehow, the beaked creature always seemed to be smiling impishly, she same way Kona always seemed to be sneering haughtily.

I can't help it that I'm better than everyone else.

Yeah well right now you're a pain in my patella.

The bird's small talons gripped the oiled caribou leather with ease and Rilana stroked her fingers lightly down the raven's back, working her nails under the feathers around her neck where she knew birds liked to be stritched. It was then that the bird thrust something smooth and cold into her palm and took off with a flap.

The Moon Few could feel the chill radiating down into her white skin, and frowned in puzzlement as she looked at the object.

"Now what do you suppose...?"

Not a stone.

No, it almost looks like a...

But what has scales that big? A drag--

"Don't you dare. That's the last thing we need." She wasn't entirely aware that part of the conversation was whispered out loud, though Svarak was the only one close enough to hear. She pocketed the scale and rocked forwards in the saddle, urging Bruin out of the stifling gloom towards the ice-capped mountains that twinkled merrily like blades of ice.

The group moved along somberly in silence, none of them having volunteered to second the drunkard. As they moved away from the massing of treants, the members of the group could see that every tree was moving a bit, as if turning towards the sound of the duel. At the last moment of earshot, there was a loud, male scream, one of pain, then nothing but silence. Then every single tree seemed to be "looking" at each member of the group as they passed. Eventually one of the drow women returned, Warden Drisceya, and was in her saddle, having appeared as sneakily as she'd departed. As they neared closer and closer to the mountain, it turned out that it wasn't a sloping mountain pass they were approaching.

It was a cave.

Drisceya rode up next to Rilana, "No worries love, the Underdark is my specialty, and I know the way through. Won't take but a day to reach your lovely snows," her voice dripping with equal parts honey and venom. Svarak kept on riding, for the Envoy had said to take this path. As he entered the cave, his sword immediately began glowing a dull blue, one that would bring some small comfort to the Moon Fey, reminding her of the ice back home. Drisceya sped up, taking the lead, her eyes unhindered by the darkness, while the other Knights began passing around torches for those with lesser vision, striking them up.

If it was cold outside before, it was much more so now. From the ceiling hung many roots, frigid and moist to the touch, often snagging on hair and clothes. The rams were not finding any comfort in the dark, staying very close to another, nose to tail. It didn't go unnoticed that the other drow woman never did return to her saddle, but the expedition continued onward.

Then a dull singing could be heard, one that Alya could make out. It was a soft, pleasant tune, alluring, gentle. Then the tune stopped, and a stiff, unusual breeze blasted through the cave, momentarily snuffing out all of the torches. Svarak's sword glow was only bright enough for the three people behind him to make out, but he kept moving forward, following Drisceya.

Once all the torches were lit, Drisceya, Svarak, Rilana, and one of the knights, with one of the empty rams in tow were all alone. The rest of their party had vanished, as Drisceya continued onward, not having noticed. Further ahead of them, the roots grew deeper, thicker, and were much more in the way. Anytime a torch got too close to a root, it curled up tight, avoiding the dangerous flames. Eventually the tunnel would spill out into a large cave, one that seemed ideal for making camp in. It had one entrance in, and one exit out. It was roughly three spear throws in diameter, with many ledges and stalactites hanging down.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group, consisting of Alya, the homunculus medic, Chartrose, and the other knight found no such solace. Any backtracking led them right into a solid wall. And the tune that Alya had heard had started once more, seeming to call her deeper down the tunnels. Any attempts to shout from either group would not be heard. Their tunnel would eventually lead to a fork. The left hand path emanated the song that Alya could hear, while the right gave off a very faint, moving blue glow.

Alya instinctively flinched at Rilana's icy gaze, it reminded her of Trix, but.. worse. She wanted to explain everything to the Moon Fey, but she had neither the voice nor the time to do so. She nodded submissively as she accepted the set of reigns, looping it around her saddle-horn as she was instructed.

They moved in silence for awhile before a scream of pain echoed out. Alya covered her ears desperately, because it sounded extremely close by due to her hearing. She let loose a few tears as she realized that it was Lyle's voice. He's dead isn't he.. She thought as she slowly removed her hands from her ears, giving Echo a small pat on the head to comfort herself. Why did things like this always happen when she was around.. The day she met Echo.. The Mauven festival.. And now. She shook her head as she dismissed the thoughts, something she was good at.

As they approached the cave, she heard what the drow had said. It comforted her a little, as did the big cat's glowing sword. She didn't like the dark, especially when she was alone. But she wasn't alone now, was she? It'll be okay.. Rilana is here too. She calmed herself with such thoughts.

The cave was much colder than outside. Alya's grip on her coat tightened as she felt the chill. Echo snuggled under it as well, since he wasn't used to such cold temperatures.

She heard something.. Singing? Someone was singing in the cave? It was quite elegant, soft.. alluring even. She wanted to know who it was, perhaps a new friend? In this cave..? She shook her head again. This wasn't the place to be making friends. She looked around to figure out the direction of the source, but sudden a breeze blew through the cave. It stopped. She was confused.

Suddenly everyone disappeared. The glowing sword, the drow, Rilana. Gone. The three others who were with her couldn't find a way back. The tune started once more. Coming from the left side in the fork that they encountered. The right had a small blue glow.. it was faint, but it moved about. She wondered if anyone else could hear the song. The song that tugged at her curiosity. Her ram refused to detach from the group, so she dismounted it, Echo following close behind in relative confusion. She picked up the pup, putting him in her coat, allowing his head to pop up where the collar was.

She began to walk down the path of the song. She felt nervous, but also.. relaxed? The song was soft and lovely to listen to. She brought out her flute and began to play a equally soft tune that complimented the song. It calmed her nerves, which was good. However she still didn't know where she was going.

Rilana too, flinched at the sound of the scream, guessing it to be Lyle's as the foolish drunk met with an unfortunate end. The burden of leadership was heavy on her shoulders as she forced herself to believe that her responsibility was to the group as a whole and getting involved in such a one-sided fight over one man would have been courageous, but a disservice to those she had promised to lead. The argument sounded good in her mind, but she still felt guilty for leaving the man behind.

Entering the cave was of no particular concern to the Moon Fey, as she'd been spelunking some in the past, and watching the glowing sword (as well as Svarak's powerful back) was a pleasant distraction from the monotanous walls. Bruin was nervous in these close quarters, but Rilana reassured him often, knowing that these hard floors would be better than slogging it through the snows. Ortha in particular seemed to be happier in here than the outside, sliding from the saddlehorse to slink along on the ground, investigating.

It struck her as odd that the temperature seemed to plummet around them. Protected from the wind and ice, caves were usually a bit more pleasant than the outside. Paying slightly more attention to the path ahead than the sounds of those behind, Rilana missed the moment when half of the party vanished. She was too concerned with the roots above wondering if they belonged to treants like the ones they had recently left.

When the walls opened up into a larger cavern, Rilana turned back to say something to Alya, only to discover that the mute musician was no longer there! Startled, her breath catching in her throat, the Envoy reigned Bruin to a halt. "Alya?"

"Stop!" Her exclamation was not overly loud, but urgent with her concern. "Alya and the rest are missing. Did anyone see if they turned off back there?"

When it inevitably turned out that no one had, Rilana wheeled the horse around, ready to plunge back into the root-filled maze.

"Check the entrance and tell me what lies beyond. Are we almost to the other side here?" She eyed the suspicious drow woman, at least glad that this one wasn't the one who had looked daggers at her in Stone Crest. Perhaps Drisceya had killed the other one while they were scouting in the woods. Rilana had no way to know how much of this underground passage they had left to traverse and had to rely on the dark elf to tell her.

Moving her horse around to stand near Svarak's ram, the Moon Fey glanced at the charr, frowning worriedly. "We should look for them. I didn't see any side-passages on the way but the roots were so thick." She couldn't stand the thought of Alya wandering around in the darkness, even if she was with some armed knights.

Rilana considered sending Ortha to hunt them down, but the balauradon was still terribly young, and their Bond was still too new.

Send me?
Not unless I have no other choice. I'd rather go myself.

(Narrator puts on T-shirt that reads: "I'm with Alya")

---

As Chartose moved-on, still heavy-hearted at abandoning a party-member (even an oafish one), his spirits returned when they came to a cave, offering shelter from the wind and the promise of someplace warmer than the outdoors for Tricia to rest in. Alas, the cave was so much colder that he quickly realized this was no ordinary cave; a point further reinforced by the reaction by the many roots whenever a curious knight would wave their torch at the woody protrusions. The tangled roots had become such a nuisance that Chartose had to dismount, leaving nearly all the coverings on the scream-raptor.

Then a sudden gust of wind, lights went out. A momentary panic as Chartose calmly lit a candle and placed it in his lantern, which should prevent the lights going-out a second time; although the light from the small lantern was quite dim, it provided a warmer and more comforting glow than the blue sword the wereperson used.

It was then that he saw a large mass of the leadership had disappeared, and tried to rally those who remained as they tried to find the rest of the group. Backtracking yielded a literal dead-end, it was growing still colder for Tricia, and he could see their resident mute had started to wander-off just as he was sure he saw the faint blue of Svarak's sword. Quickly, he hurried-up to her, but quickly found himself calmer as he approached despite being absolutely sure they were now going the wrong way. By this time the Charr mercenary reasoned that the mute was quite handy with that flute, able to keep up with the improvised flourishes of the strange melody coming from somewhere in the distance ahead.

The path Alya followed grew warmer, the sound of the song growing louder. The knight that was bringing up the rear of the group "Oy, stop wanderin' off!" But his words were muffled in the woman's ears, as the song was dominating her hearing. Rolling his eyes, "Hinkley, let's follow her, better to stick together." This was followed by several swears directed at foolish women. After getting the mounts in order, following the woman and the Charr that were on foot, he commented again, "Are you just following the warmth or what?"

This path led deeper and deeper, the song that only Alya could hear very strong now. Eventually it opened into a room lit by a ceiling littered with natural glowstones set in the stone, and large steam filled spring. In the center of it were two unexpected things. The first was a quaint little cottage, built into the spring itself. The second was a naked White Elf woman sitting atop a rock, eyes closed, in what appeared to be a meditative pose. As Alya came into view, her eyes opened, a kind smile filling her face, "Welcome Alya, I've been waiting for you. Please, come, rest, your friends too. I won't keep you long, I know you are on a very important journey, and I am here to aid you."

She let loose a single melancholic note, and the steam parted, revealing a stone path across the water, leading to her house. "There's plenty of food and drink therein, help yourselves."

Then Alya could hear the woman in her head now, "Come, join me. I must help you, it is my Purpose." She gestured to a rock next to her in the spring. The water was a few feet deep, the bottom quite clearly seen. There were a few small strange fish and plants, but nothing terribly concerning.

The knight gawked at the naked woman for a bit, before composing himself. She was quite fit and beautiful and clearly not interested in anyone but the white haired woman. When she said there was food, he was more than willing, crossing the rocks, followed by the homonculus. Inside was various cuts of cooked fish and eel, as well as some foreign dish, that looked to be raw fish, foreign vegetables, rice, and seaweed. The man ate heartily, the homunculus exploring, for he had no need to eat. Mouth full, the knight shouted, "The foodsh great guysh, you should try it!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Svarak looked back at Rilana's panic, concern on his face. Not just for the rest of the group, but for the expedition as a whole. They'd already lost one man, with one knight missing, and now half the remaining people were gone. At this rate... he shook his head before he could finish the thought. Drisceya sighed, complying to the Envoy's orders. As she moved across the way to the other tunnel, she heard the woman speaking. She spoke loud enough that it would echo back, "Don't bother. There were no other paths, odds are they stumbled upon a deep dwarf tunnel. They open at the slightest touch, sometimes with triggers before hand, completely silent. I'd bet my sash on it. The trigger probably caused the wind too, as the wall opened without our noticing. The only chance at finding them now is to move forward and get lucky. Or find a deep dwarf and... coerce him."

She disappeared into the entrance, Svarak's eyes falling on the worried woman. "We need to trust her expertise. This is her world. This is as safe a camp as any other we might find down here. If we keep splitting up, there's going to be no one left. But it is your call."

Drisceya didn't return for two agonizing stretches, "We'll be through before midday tomorrow, if we leave at sunrise. There's only one other camp ahead, and I heard what sounded like underwyrm mating. You don't want to go anywhere near that, I've seen them accidentally destroy villages during it. We should wait."

She felt the air around her get warmer as she walked, she mostly ignored whatever her companions said, walking along her own path. Instinctively, she undid the string that held her coat together, letting Echo slip out onto the cave floor. He landed on his feet and shook his body as he felt the temperature change. He calmly kept pace with his mother as she played her music. The song was getting louder in Alya's ears, but it seemed as though no one else could hear it, but that didn't worry her at all. As usual, her eyes were closed as she played her flute, but she felt the air around her change as they entered the large room. She ended the song as the singing stopped, opening her eyes to see the beautifully decorated cave. Her eyes, however, were drawn to the cottage into the spring. And then to a naked White elf woman who was atop of a rock.

Alya's face involuntarily smiled back at the Elven woman's smile. She felt her worries disappear when the woman said that she was here to help her. Alya didn't feel any doubt in her mind.

"Come, join me. I must help you, it is my Purpose." Alya nodded slowly, complying. Purpose? She thought. It reminded her of what her mother had told her. About the 'Purpose' for White Elves. Her mother's purpose was to run the tavern, but as she had been told, all White Elves receive different.. 'callings'. Perhaps she will get hers soon? She wasn't an adult by Elf standards, but an adult by human standard. She fell in between as a half-breed. Her mother had always told her that she will receive her purpose when she turned 20. That was this year. What might it be?

As Alya walked toward the water, she absentmindedly removed her boots, coat, leaving them scattered in a trail behind her. Echo whined at her, reminded her of his presence. She crouched down and gave Echo a reassuring pat before gesturing that he go eat some of the food that the Elf had provided. Echo licked Alya's hand before running off toward the cottage, across the stone path.

Alya stepped into the water. It was warm, comforting. She felt more than half of her small body sink into the water. Alya slowly made her way to the rock next to the woman. She slowly climbed out of the water, sitting on the rock. She gave the Elf a slight bow and a smile as a greeting, for she could not speak. She did, however still have her flute in hand, so she could play music if need be.

The Moon Fey took a deep breath and closed her eyes, curling her slender fingers nervously in the rough black hair of Bruin's mane. Rilana didn't like having to trust the drow. She didn't like that Alya was missing, or that Lyle had likely been killed by monstrous trees that she didn't know anything about, and she especially didn't like how poor of a guide she had turned out to be. If Svarak had asked for her sash right now she would have been all too happy to hand it over and let him lead.

It's not your fault. You promised you'd do your best, not that everything would go perfectly.

Amazingly, that doesn't make me feel better, bird-brain.

"Fine. I don't want to split up any more either and it wouldn't be wise to ignore her advice. Let's set up camp and get as much rest as we can until Warden Drisceya deems it safe enough to move on. There aren't many of us but we should set watches, if only to make sure the rams aren't getting worked up enough to bolt." By now, the animals should have been used to Ortha, but when the two-headed black creature slunk along the edges of the cavern the herbivores they turned and eyed her nervously, just looking for a reason to panic. "I'll take first watch, try to get some sleep."

With that, Rilana tucked her leg over the front of Bruin's saddle and landed neatly on the ground. Leading the horse to the middle of the cavern and bringing the riderless ram with her, she began caring for her mount first. Unbuckling his cinch and dragging the saddle off, she held the leather and sheepskin contraption against her hip until she could fold the stirrups and straps up into the seat and set the whole thing down without it dragging messily along the ground.

Digging through her saddlebags, she pulled out a stiff bristle brush and brushed the dirt and sweat from the animal, cleaning him up and relaxing him at the same time. It made her feel better, giving her something to do with her hands while her thoughts swirled with her concern about the rest of the party, her dark and twisted feelings about Svarak, and her general dislike at having to make camp underground.

When that was done, she secured the fjord-horse to a stout-looking stalagmite and left him munching muffledly in his nosebag, asking the others to do the same, her eyes narrowed critically to make sure everyone was taking care of their animals to her strict standards. It was a sure sign of her inner turmoil when she snapped angrily at Beran when the man tried to walk away without cleaning the stones from his ram's cloven hooves.

With the roof of the cavern over their heads and stone underfoot, there was no point in trying to put up their tents, so Rilana spread out her bedroll and sat cross-legged on the pale reindeer-hide, her longbow across her lap and one hand patting the top of one of Ortha's heads, stroking the smooth bony protuberances on the balauradon's skull. The creature's other head chewed noisily on a rather large piece of jerky. The creature was nearly the size of a regular wolf now. At some point she got out a mug and some silverleaf tea to make herself a cup, but it sat unsteeped and forgotten next to her as she gazed worriedly into the darkness.

Kona soothed her with his logic, and Rilana avoided looking at the others in case she found disappointment in their eyes.

Chartose looked at the offering of food all laid-out, the cottage, and the warmth coming presumably from the well-spring. He could already tell that Tricia wanted to. It was hard for him to believe that anyone would just offer such things for free. The sheer unlikeliness of such a near-impossibility kept him on edge even as he watch his scream-raptor shuck-off her own saddle and covers and take a quick dip in the far end of the spring.

"And what do you seek in return for these, services?" Chartose asked as he slowly took note of all the glowing crystals jutting from the walls and cieling; he would have had many more questions to ask, trying to catch any signs of deception from the white-elf hostess, but strictly business seemed the best way to cut through the modesty. Having a calling and a purpose was all well and good, but he wasn't going to think she'd let some strangers take advantage of her hospitality. One the other hand, the Ebon-knight was stuffing his mouth and the homunculus stood as a placid observer of the serene landscape.

Rather than pig-out and fight over food with an Ebon-Knight, Chartose went about hanging-up Ticia's winter covers, which would just happen to function as a vanity-screen for the elf and half-elf. He could've sworn he heard the homunculus give-off a disheartened-sigh after he'd finished.

The white elf woman didn't even bother looking up toward Chartrose while speaking, "My payment is the completion of my Purpose and finally being free from it. I'll have no need for the physical once it is completed. Take what you please from my home. We'll be busy until it is done."

Now looking at Alya, the young half-breed could hear her voice in her head, "Alya Songweaver, I've waited for many years for you to come here, as my Purpose told me you would eventually. I am able to communicate with you like this because of your magic, our magic. You'll be able to communicate with any other mages in this fashion now that I've initiated you. My Purpose is to aid you in finding your own. Think as if you were talking, and I will hear you."

She let Alya have a moment to orient herself to this sensation before continuing, "All mages can communicate like this, but it requires you to have either been initiated or more practiced in your magic. But we are here for your Purpose. It is no coincidence you are mute Alya Songweaver. It happens quite rarely in White Elves, once every few generations or so. It is a sign of a greater Purpose, one that affects the whole of our race. You will remain mute until this Purpose is completed, and should you fail, our people will be devastated. How? I do not know. In the Feywild, those who received such a Purpose became Priests among our people. Each time they failed or died before completing it, our people suffered greatly.

My Purpose brought me to this specific place, to aid you in discovering your own. In the Feywild, Priests would meditate for years, decades to discover theirs. But this place is special. The water, the air, the light, even the location, all aid in helping one meditate more clearly. You need to find a relaxed state and begin there. I prefer my pose, legs crossed, hands resting gently in my lap. As a Songweaver, I pick a song, and sing it to myself. I then take away a single sense at a time, closing my eyes, tuning out the feeling of the warm air, until there's nothing left but the song. Then I take away my voice, but keep the song going within. Then I reduce the song, piece by piece until only a single, resonating note is left. That note is what you need to focus on, it will guide you to your Purpose." With that, the woman fell silent, having said her piece, she closed her eyes and stayed in her meditative pose. She didn't know how long it would take Alya, but she knew her Purpose would eventually reveal itself, she could feel it.

After however long it took for Alya to reach the note that brought her serenity, she'd feel a vision force itself into her mind, forcing a gasp from the young woman. The White Elf smiled, "She's done it." The vision that Alya saw was of a wonderful, fantastical world. It was full of plants and animals she'd never seen before, with fairies, and elves of so many types, and so many races that one recognized as those from the Feywild. Her view shifted, and there was a portal, much like the one she'd seen at the Tournament last season. Through that, she could see an island, a singular mountain, with many winged races atop it. She could see a familiar constellation in the night sky, and she knew she was looking at her world. Then there was a bright flash, and the portal was sealed.

Alya could feel the cries of anguish, the pain, of those trapped in the Feywild, cut off from their brethren. She found herself somehow knowing that the Feywild only connected to this plane and no others. Then a shadow came through where the portal had been, a black and crimson shadow. It moved along the ground, many of the denizens watching in fear, unsure what to think of it. It sank into the ground and disappeared, much to the relief of the others.

Alya's vision changed, and she knew that it was the current time. She was looking at the same area, she could feel it. But it was dark and twisted, corrupted and toxic. The streams were full of sludge, the bright plants, that had been the colors of the rainbow, were now replaced with dark things, full of thorns and danger. Her vision moved across this desolate forest, showing the devastation was everywhere until eventually it settled on a single settlement. It was full of the Fey, protected behind a massive Shield. They were able to keep out the corruption, but she could feel their energy fading.

And with that, the vision left her, leaving a single word on her mind. Jaspaiya.

When Alya's eyes opened, she'd see the woman who'd aided her glowing and smiling, "Thank you... there's a tunnel beneath my home that will lead you to your friends... You must do this Alya Songweaver. Follow your Purpose, find your voice." And in a flash of light, the woman completely disappeared, and Alya could feel that she'd ascended to another plane.

The homunculus had heard the woman's words, and pulled back the rug on the floor revealing the trapdoor. He opened it and peered in, finding a tunnel lit by more glowstones. It was large enough for everyone, including Tricia and the rams to walk through. It was a quick jaunt to a dead end, that when touched, would open up into the large cavern where the rest of the group was camped out.

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The group experienced very few other complications as they left the Underdark the next day. They traveled through the snowy mountains, the chill increasing and increasing, to the point that Rilana could feel its chill. On the morning of the 53rd, two days after
Rilana and Svarak spoke. They were moving through a valley between two mountains, when the heavy snow that had been falling became a complete whiteout. The cold went straight to the bone, even for Rilana, and she knew they'd need shelter soon or they'd all die.

The rams were able to press forward, when the group suddenly stepped into clear air. Looking around, they could see the blizzard acting like a hurricane. And they were in the eye of it. When any tried to leave the center, even to test the snow, they'd find the edge of the blizzard flowing so fast and hard that it would rip them away. They were trapped. Any attempt to view the blizzard from above would see that it had grown much larger, and was encompassing everything in eyesight. The valley continued onward, until it turned around a ridge, revealing a large stone tower.

There was a single door at the base of it, and investigation would reveal it was unlocked. Inside was a large, singular room, adorned with many decorations Rilana would recognize as from Frigmount. There was a large set of stairs winding along the wall, climbing upward to further floors, as well as downward into what was presumed to be the basement.