The warlock led them on well-trodden paths through the Ruin Woods, past a would-be shanty town which, if previous experience had taught him anything, Aidan knew would house the lowest orders of the coven. Most of the occupants were thin, wild-eyed wretches, hungry for power and destined never to gain it. Only a very few might one day claw their way into the attention of a true warlock and be permitted to supplicate a greater entity for a pact.
It was typical of the covens in this part of the world. Desperate men and women clustering together, debasing themselves for the amusement of others in the hope that they would eventually learn the mysteries of power. Not so in the occupied lands, where if you were determined to have even the least scrap of potential, you were taken for initiation whether you willed it or no.
Aidan had seen friends suffer this fate. Dissent was dealt with summarily and horrifically. In exchange for complete freedom in recruiting members, covens of warlocks and true casters alike were required to serve without question. Here too was dissent met with disproportionate punishment. The secret police, after all, had eyes and ears everywhere.
The contrast between the chaotic brutality of the invaders and the discipline and regimentation that they imposed on their territories was a stark one. Aidan did his best not to think about it. Knowing that he was not strong enough to make any real difference there was painful enough, without also having to consider the consequences of success.
He had mentioned this in passing some months earlier, when they had been swapping histories and some comment or another had caught him off-guard. Had it been Brokk? Yes - the dwarf had been arguing on a matter of morality with Embla, who seemed unwilling to accept that a nation might be as or more damaged by bloody revolution as by leaving a tyrant in power.
The argument was ended when Aidan pointed out the crux of it depended on victory being possible in the first place. The relative good mood of the evening had also ended at that point.
*****
Aidan`s journey into memory was halted when the warlock suddenly announced: 'We are arrived. Mine custodianship of thee has come to an end. Go now unto he who requested thy presence.'
With that, the warlock turned on his heel and strode purposefully back the way they had come, nearly trampling Isolde in his haste to abandon them. At the last moment, she darted to one side. Childishly, she stuck out her tongue and was rewarded with a remarkably sympathetic look from his familiar. Brokk muttered something inaudible in a tone that suggested it was extremely rude, or at least disparaging.
This charming presence now absent, Aidan turned his attention to whoever had asked for them. For a few seconds, he was confused by the apparent lack of anyone, until Brokk pointed up into the trees. The paladin tensed as the feline shape made itself clear, hand already moving to his hammer when it slid from the branch and landed in front of them. He forced himself to relax, understanding the nature of the contact.
'Think you lot set a record on working me out,' the leopard commented in a curious lilting accent. 'Not wrong being cautious, of course. Hate having to smack sense into people not introduced to me.'
Aidan took that as a cue and bowed politely. 'Well met, wild master. My name is Aidan of Zel, sworn to the service of Heshtail the Merciful. My companions are the esteemed Brokk Ashknarzglimmsun, who bears his name openly; lady Isolde Amero Ballussia, blessed of Calbran; and Embla Villiendr, Aslaug of the Risarvinnae.'
Hoping he had pronounced everything properly - there not being much call for anything more than their given names - Aidan straightened from his bow and immediately failed to keep his jaw from dropping. The leopard, in defiance of all etiquette, was busy cleaning beneath its tail.
'I would have told you, Aidan,' Isolde struggled to get the words out. 'But I was convinced Brokk was practicing his illusions on me again.'
'And here I was hoping I had miscast the spell and affected myself,' Brokk added, equally bewildered.
Embla, like Aidan, had nothing to say.
*****
'Should I assume you isolated the geodesic vectors prior to evoking the cross-ley consciousnesses?' Brokk inquired of the druid. 'Else the divinations would be prone to error.'
It had taken several minutes for the group to recover themselves enough to proceed with the unorthodox meeting. The druid had variably introduced themselves as Grimoth, Caylay the Kale, Bessie, Andavor, the Darkmane, and Pirip Larkstongue. They had periodically claimed to be male, female, ungendered, human, gnome, orc, and trout. They originated from Farland, Zeland, Orland, and no land. The only thing that had not changed was the reason for the meeting.
'Never go for that sort of thing,' the druid, still in leopard shape, answered a put-out Brokk. 'Just followed the other scavengers. Found the cave easy enough. The strangles wasn`t the first to come up from below. Won`t be the last if we don't do something.'
Aidan considered the situation. Their chances of survival were less than promising, but the goal was a noble one indeed. Some evil force had hidden itself beneath the Ruin Woods and started vomiting up diseases and plagues. Most of them had simply been too virulent to be contagious, simply dying along with their first victims. But now it seemed as though they were being refined.
The druid had managed to locate the entrance to the lair of whatever was behind this, but had come to the conclusion that allies would be needed to destroy the evil. Apparently, the events at Mavarra had given Aidan and his companions something of a reputation in certain circles. Gratifying, in some respects, but troubling in others. Fame and infamy went hand in hand, after all.
'What about guards? Traps? Things like that? Anything information you want to share?'
Isolde always had the right questions to ask, thought Aidan, even when he was being distracted by irrelevancies. Between her and Brokk, anything that required cunning or trickery to overcome would fall. Between him and Embla, anything that required brute force would similarly be conquered. And whatever the druid was able to bring could surely only make things easier.
'You know all I know now,' the druid replied. 'Except for everything you don`t. But you know what I don`t know too.'
Isolde looked helplessly at Brokk, who shrugged, then at Embla, who glared and flexed her muscles. The druid may as well have been a cat for all the interest they showed to the implied threat. Instead, they stood up, stretched and yawned.
'No more questions, we should go. Not far, but night soon. You will want to sleep and start in the morning. Always night below ground, so shouldn`t matter. Soonest started, soonest ended, though.'
Grudgingly, the truth of the aphorism was accepted and the four companions fell into position behind this bizarre creature.
'Also, Cawlis,' the druid said unexpectedly. 'Cawlis is my favorite. I think Cawlis was my birth-name. Or just similar.'
It was typical of the covens in this part of the world. Desperate men and women clustering together, debasing themselves for the amusement of others in the hope that they would eventually learn the mysteries of power. Not so in the occupied lands, where if you were determined to have even the least scrap of potential, you were taken for initiation whether you willed it or no.
Aidan had seen friends suffer this fate. Dissent was dealt with summarily and horrifically. In exchange for complete freedom in recruiting members, covens of warlocks and true casters alike were required to serve without question. Here too was dissent met with disproportionate punishment. The secret police, after all, had eyes and ears everywhere.
The contrast between the chaotic brutality of the invaders and the discipline and regimentation that they imposed on their territories was a stark one. Aidan did his best not to think about it. Knowing that he was not strong enough to make any real difference there was painful enough, without also having to consider the consequences of success.
He had mentioned this in passing some months earlier, when they had been swapping histories and some comment or another had caught him off-guard. Had it been Brokk? Yes - the dwarf had been arguing on a matter of morality with Embla, who seemed unwilling to accept that a nation might be as or more damaged by bloody revolution as by leaving a tyrant in power.
The argument was ended when Aidan pointed out the crux of it depended on victory being possible in the first place. The relative good mood of the evening had also ended at that point.
*****
Aidan`s journey into memory was halted when the warlock suddenly announced: 'We are arrived. Mine custodianship of thee has come to an end. Go now unto he who requested thy presence.'
With that, the warlock turned on his heel and strode purposefully back the way they had come, nearly trampling Isolde in his haste to abandon them. At the last moment, she darted to one side. Childishly, she stuck out her tongue and was rewarded with a remarkably sympathetic look from his familiar. Brokk muttered something inaudible in a tone that suggested it was extremely rude, or at least disparaging.
This charming presence now absent, Aidan turned his attention to whoever had asked for them. For a few seconds, he was confused by the apparent lack of anyone, until Brokk pointed up into the trees. The paladin tensed as the feline shape made itself clear, hand already moving to his hammer when it slid from the branch and landed in front of them. He forced himself to relax, understanding the nature of the contact.
'Think you lot set a record on working me out,' the leopard commented in a curious lilting accent. 'Not wrong being cautious, of course. Hate having to smack sense into people not introduced to me.'
Aidan took that as a cue and bowed politely. 'Well met, wild master. My name is Aidan of Zel, sworn to the service of Heshtail the Merciful. My companions are the esteemed Brokk Ashknarzglimmsun, who bears his name openly; lady Isolde Amero Ballussia, blessed of Calbran; and Embla Villiendr, Aslaug of the Risarvinnae.'
Hoping he had pronounced everything properly - there not being much call for anything more than their given names - Aidan straightened from his bow and immediately failed to keep his jaw from dropping. The leopard, in defiance of all etiquette, was busy cleaning beneath its tail.
'I would have told you, Aidan,' Isolde struggled to get the words out. 'But I was convinced Brokk was practicing his illusions on me again.'
'And here I was hoping I had miscast the spell and affected myself,' Brokk added, equally bewildered.
Embla, like Aidan, had nothing to say.
*****
'Should I assume you isolated the geodesic vectors prior to evoking the cross-ley consciousnesses?' Brokk inquired of the druid. 'Else the divinations would be prone to error.'
It had taken several minutes for the group to recover themselves enough to proceed with the unorthodox meeting. The druid had variably introduced themselves as Grimoth, Caylay the Kale, Bessie, Andavor, the Darkmane, and Pirip Larkstongue. They had periodically claimed to be male, female, ungendered, human, gnome, orc, and trout. They originated from Farland, Zeland, Orland, and no land. The only thing that had not changed was the reason for the meeting.
'Never go for that sort of thing,' the druid, still in leopard shape, answered a put-out Brokk. 'Just followed the other scavengers. Found the cave easy enough. The strangles wasn`t the first to come up from below. Won`t be the last if we don't do something.'
Aidan considered the situation. Their chances of survival were less than promising, but the goal was a noble one indeed. Some evil force had hidden itself beneath the Ruin Woods and started vomiting up diseases and plagues. Most of them had simply been too virulent to be contagious, simply dying along with their first victims. But now it seemed as though they were being refined.
The druid had managed to locate the entrance to the lair of whatever was behind this, but had come to the conclusion that allies would be needed to destroy the evil. Apparently, the events at Mavarra had given Aidan and his companions something of a reputation in certain circles. Gratifying, in some respects, but troubling in others. Fame and infamy went hand in hand, after all.
'What about guards? Traps? Things like that? Anything information you want to share?'
Isolde always had the right questions to ask, thought Aidan, even when he was being distracted by irrelevancies. Between her and Brokk, anything that required cunning or trickery to overcome would fall. Between him and Embla, anything that required brute force would similarly be conquered. And whatever the druid was able to bring could surely only make things easier.
'You know all I know now,' the druid replied. 'Except for everything you don`t. But you know what I don`t know too.'
Isolde looked helplessly at Brokk, who shrugged, then at Embla, who glared and flexed her muscles. The druid may as well have been a cat for all the interest they showed to the implied threat. Instead, they stood up, stretched and yawned.
'No more questions, we should go. Not far, but night soon. You will want to sleep and start in the morning. Always night below ground, so shouldn`t matter. Soonest started, soonest ended, though.'
Grudgingly, the truth of the aphorism was accepted and the four companions fell into position behind this bizarre creature.
'Also, Cawlis,' the druid said unexpectedly. 'Cawlis is my favorite. I think Cawlis was my birth-name. Or just similar.'