Chapter Nineteen: The Fate of the Tribe of the Kobolds of the Silver Sun!

[Purr]

Captain Hesperus Kaerri jaydude Psychie Sherwood Silanon

Oscar's little black eyes blink and blink in thought as his four furry paws help him swiftly cross the floor and keep up with the rolling crystal ball. Then, with a single hop, he is up on top of the crystal ball, facing opposite the way the ball is traveling, his paws moving with the ball. But little by little, he uses his little paws to alter the crystal ball's momentum by slowly padding in the direction he wants to go.

While this is happening, everyone watching gets a brief but very clear look at something beyond Oscar - it is a seated robed figure with handsome elven male features with his nose in a book while his hands are rubbing some kind of oil along a staff-length piece of glimmering wood. Those who have met him recognize Shalin the Sorcerer.

Spoiler: Special note for Silanon.

Aldrin the Seer, however, feels an odd but highly familiar sensation - the feeling that he would gain from paying attention to both elf and the partially-crafted staff that the elf has buried his attention to.

When Aldrin has received "little pushes" like this, he has done well to listen to them or he has had serious reason for woe when he hasn't. It isn't like the powers at be are saying, "Do this or suffer," but instead a far more compassionate, "Look at this to aid you; there is something here that will help you avoid pain/strife/emotional harm, etc."

Most of all, these feelings have never been wrong. But that does not make them easy to follow along to. In this particular instance, the choice - observe or don't observe - could not be easier. In past instances, Aldrin has had to build up the faith in these feelings from unseen sources. Faith over pride (which nearly all creatures have) or faith over what appear to be facts (which, in all cases of these feelings-from-afar, the "facts" turn out to be something other).

The choice to follow or not these guiding feelings are his and his alone. Which does Aldrin choose? To simply watch the happenings or to observe?

And then the scene is gone as Oscar regains control of the crystal ball, and with care and focus, he begins to guide the ball to wherever it is he is taking it.

All the while he has been listening to (Chaotic Good) Luna explain how the (Good-aligned) Wayward Wanderers have made a promise to "poor" (Lawful Evil-aligned) kobolds to enter the war-struck city of (Lawful Neutral Good) Highwind. His first question - a very logical one, you might agree, given his perspective - is:

"Miss Callen, are you certain you and the rest of the Wayward Wanderers have not been Charmed or otherwise magically coerced?"

 

[Sherwood]

Luna frowns, wondering briefly if Oscar is right. "While it is possible, I highly doubt it. If I were Charmed, it would also have to affect all of the Wanderers, and a paladin of Millekki to boot. These are not the typical evil kobolds that parents use to scare their children when they are bad. They are genuinely good, and are in need of help."

 

[Kaerri]

Spoiler: Kaerri Rainshadow, Shadowdancer

^{Art by Peritwinkle}
Character sheet
Hit Points: 99/99
Armor Class: 27
Touch Armor Class: 17
Shadow Illusion: 3/3
Shadow Call: 2/2
Shadow Jump distance: 80/80 feet
Defensive Roll: 1/1
Rogue Talent Resiliency: 1/1
Stinger -- uses of Slow remaining: 3/3
Charm of Bastet -- uses of Cat's Grace remaining: 1/1
Action Points: 14

Kaerri smiles, not her usual half- (at least) mischievous grin, but a warm, even sisterly smile, at the sight of Shalin. He appeared busy with his staff, but she didn't see any of the signs usually visible when he didn't want to be interrupted, so she called out, "Hi, Shalin!"

As the view shifts away from the gray-elven sorcerer, her more accustomed expression takes over.

"Two -- no, three points to consider, Oscar," she adds to Luna's answer. "Firstly, besides the aforementioned paladin (her name's Alisa, by the way) we've got a full-blooded elf and two half-elves here. Not immune to Charm and such, but pretty darn resistant, especially Oreleth. Second point, even if the spell or whatever got past that, I've got a pretty slippery mind -- and a certain trident who doesn't approve of me being under someone else's control -- so I'm likely to wriggle free sooner or later." She pauses slightly, but decides to leave that ability of Wave's vague, for the moment.

"Thirdly, and the most verifiable on your end: all of these kobolds are the same tribe as the few that were already permitted in Highwind. They're called the Tribe of the Silver Sun, and they want to worship the silver dragon Charmsring. One of those few is with us, actually, his name's Nitwit." She pauses and looks around. If she sees Nitwit in the room, she'll beckon him over to stand next to her. "Gromash knows about 'em, and more to the current point, someone pretty high up must've allowed those few into Highwind in the first place, though I haven't heard who yet. So, there's a sort of precedent now, though I s'pose there's bound to be a difference between three kobolds on specific assignment and fifty-odd kobolds in need of refuge."

 

[Purr]

Captain Hesperus jaydude Kaerri Psychie Sherwood Silanon

Luna frowns, wondering briefly if Oscar is right. "While it is possible, I highly doubt it. If I were Charmed, it would also have to affect all of the Wanderers, and a paladin of Millekki to boot. These are not the typical evil kobolds that parents use to scare their children when they are bad. They are genuinely good, and are in need of help."

Oscar listens with care as he walks the crystal ball along with equal care. He speaks as if he is citing facts as opposed to sharing any personal opinion. As always, his voice and inflections are deep and thoughtful-sounding without a hint of judgment.

"Kobolds do more than scare troublesome children; they serve only the most foul of masters. They delight in butchering their enemies which are many, they have made torture an art form among their people, and they especially hate faerie-kind and gnomes, both of whom call Highwind home. (O.O.C. note for Sherwood - At Luna's level of skill in Monster Lore, she has probably heard what Oscar is conveying since she was an acolyte. As far as you know, besides the Kobolds of the Silver Sun, his description fits every kobold Luna has ever read or even heard about - normally, they're diabolical and vicious! Worse than goblins because they are team-oriented, many would say.)

Luna stares at the image in the rolling crystal ball with more than a bit of amusement tinged with vertigo. Trying not to laugh or get dizzy, she says, "Um, friend Oscar, can you lend us your knowledge regarding a small problem we have? We were able to rescue a tribe of kobolds from the tyranny and degradation of a bunch of evil storm giants, but now the tribe has nowhere to call home. Plus we just learned that Highwind has laws preventing these poor guys from entering the city. We have to help them; we promised."

Oscar nods once as if confirming Luna's words. "Indeed, Highwind does possess such laws. I am in a small way partially responsible. I have had a hand in correcting, amending, and updating Highwind's city laws - I agree with nearly all of them."

Kaerri smiles, not her usual half- (at least) mischievous grin, but a warm, even sisterly smile, at the sight of Shalin. He appeared busy with his staff, but she didn't see any of the signs usually visible when he didn't want to be interrupted, so she called out, "Hi, Shalin!"

This causes the Gray Elf to suddenly sit up and look all over Oscar's study! Shadowdancers can be anywhere! Is Kaerri in this very room? Oscar taps the crystal ball as it passes by alerting Shalin to the source of Kaerri's voice. Immediately Shalin brightens! He has just enough time to scribe three joined Elven sigils in the air before the crystal ball rolls onward.

Spoiler: Does your character speak Elvish?

The joined sigils spell out this message: "Sweet greetings, Kaeritha!"

As the view shifts away from the gray-elven sorcerer, her more accustomed expression takes over.

As Kaerri lists her points, Oscar seems to make a mental note of each. Nitwit is called from the kitchen and comes a'running, his little bare reptilian feet smacking against the wood floor of the Wayward Wagon as many of his brethren watch him with anticipation. Silently, he moves up to the crystal ball, peers at it uncertainly, and then waves a greeting with a toothy grin.

As she speaks, his travel on the crystal ball comes to an end as the glassy sphere reaches the edge of a brown and furry, cozy-looking rug. Now that the ball is halted, Oscar hops off and is gone for a moment. He returns with something that looks like a large, thick towel. He listens with this cloth in his little teeth as he walks around the crystal ball and when he is done, it appears the crystal ball is now quite secure from rolling off into bedlam again.

"Agreed, Kaerri. You do not appear to be Charmed. However, begging your pardons, I have but one small test of my own to ask of you. Wave?"

The gold and green trident in Kaerri's hand flares shiny droplets of magical energy briefly in answer.

"What is your prime function?"

Wave's voice is mighty and clear as he righteously exclaims, "Death or disfigurement to all who do not convert to the worship of Poseidon!"

Oscar nods once more and performs an ursine bow. "I am adamantly satisfied; you are certainly under no Charm spell. Wave, I thank you and your exalted deity without whom Sharseya would pass from memory and whose seas add beauty to our entire plane of existence." A new idea seems to strike him.

"Hmm. Oreleth of the Forest Eternal?" he asks for everyone's favorite Arcane Archer. Again, he takes on the tone of one only collecting facts instead of fabrications. "As the leader and highest voice of your party, the Wayward Wanderers, what solid proof have you that these kobolds - to a reptilian - are indeed not vile, malicious, and murderous creatures filled with evil intent?"

As the greatest of Highwind's sages waits patiently for an answer (and hopes for as much evidence in your favor as possible), those little black red panda eyes settle on Kaerri - or rather... something about Kaerri. "Miss Elvenheart," he attempts a joke. "Your hair and eyes are... exceptionally pleasing to gaze upon! Is that a new in-fashion cream you have applied to your entire being... or..." he grins, "have you run afoul of a complication involving a Shapeshift potion, scroll, or the like?"

 

[Psychie]

Hmm. Oreleth of the Forest Eternal?" he asks for everyone's favorite Arcane Archer. Again, he takes on the tone of one only collecting facts instead of fabrications. "As the leader and highest voice of your party, the Wayward Wanderers, what solid proof have you that these kobolds - to a reptilian - are indeed not vile, malicious, and murderous creatures filled with evil intent?"

Oreleth is somewhat taken aback by Oscar's question, but after a moment of reflection, she must confess to herself it is a fair question to ask. She pauses for another moment, trying to think of an answer that is both truthful and will satisfy the wise sage. Finally, she says, "Other than the divine powers of the paladin Alisa to sense evil that we have mentioned to you, I must confess that I have no such proof. I just have a feeling that while some of this bunch of kobolds may not be ready for sainthood, they are not evil to their core or we would not have risked life and limb to save them. I know that this is little to go on, and if in your wisdom you decide it is best for the greater good to turn them away, we will work on our own to try and aid them in finding a new place to call home."

 

[Purr]

Psychie

I know that this is little to go on, and if in your wisdom you decide it is best for the greater good to turn them away, we will work on our own to try and aid them in finding a new place to call home."

"Child of Corellon Larethian, it is precisely because it is not my decision that I ask. I can neither take them in nor deny them entry." Oscar takes a paw and pushes back a few whiskers on his face. "I am a sage - I observe, I learn, I question, and I advise. I did not create the laws of my war-torn homeland; I am simply one of many who must abide by them for the good of all within Her walls."

 

[Psychie]

Nodding as if she had expected this, Oreleth says, "I understand that you do not make the laws, but unlike the rest of us, you have a grasp of the laws of the city in such a manner to be able to advise us. What can be done to find these lost souls a home in Highwind? If it cannot be done, do you know a better place that they can go? Somewhere that they will not feel abandoned by us?"

 

[Purr]

Somewhere that they will not feel abandoned by us?"

Oscar becomes silent, his soft black eyes blinking as his mind reaches into depths unknown to most with an efficiency and accuracy unknown to nearly all. When he speaks again, it is with overtones of factful hopefulness.

"The one thing I am certain of is I cannot say if my advice will make them feel one way or the other. That is solely for them to decide, and later, act upon. But as for your prior questions, do pardon me if I answer them in reverse order.

"Historically, kobolds run in tribes. If indeed this kobold tribe is diametrically-opposed to the rest of their kind, I believe there are a great many places they cannot go - likely including whence they came. With the war raging on north of Highwind, the long-staying Lizard folk claiming their magicked swamps to Highwind's west, the sinister and remorseless tribes of Erythnul's gnolls south of the city, and the east where Shalin tells me you are is fraught with all manner of danger, including this band of despicable Storm Lord Giants..." his hopeful tones fade. "... I must conclude that there is no place near Highwind that appears safe for them.

Looking past the crystal ball, the tiny furball of a sage begins to ponder aloud. "Returning to your first question, under present circumstances, they cannot be allowed into Highwind proper. Any more than a handful will cause violence in the streets - and why not? Would not the trees of your own Forest Eternal tremble with trouble were the likes of goblins or hobgoblins suddenly seen running through their midst? Good-hearted or not, proof must be found of this claim - just as it was for all of Highwind's non-human residents.

"The wemic tribes, the Highwind minotaurs, the hobbits, the few dwarves and gnomes - all had to provide proof of their love of the city, their willingness to follow its laws, add to its prosperity and defense, and respect for all things inside whether or not they found them to their tastes. And this was during peace-time. With war against Arumgorath's hordes of evil creatures and Highwind's own families, friends, and allies suffering and dying, what sane city could take in creatures widely known for their maliciousness and hate?

"Thus, it appears you have three options at the moment - or more if you can create them.

"The first? Allow me time to look further into this matter. The wisdom and knowledge inside the volumes I keep memorized are sometimes updated or changed without my knowledge. If I can find a suitable solution, I will. But - as a matter of courtesy and foundation - you must ask this of me or someone else who has my trust.

"This second possibility may be of some inconvenience. Keep the kobold tribe with you in your magical wagon until such a time that you can find them a suitable realm to live.

"This third option, I imagine, is far more daunting. Find them a safe home somewhere in Shandra's Evergreen - some place either abandoned, forgotten, or somehow undiscovered by the eyes and ears of the majority of forest-dwellers both sentient and primal." Oscar stands up on his hind legs. He places his paws on the glass and inquisitively peers into the crystal ball, his red, black, and white fur making him look ridiculously bowl-shaped, but this in no way "pawses" his efforts. He nods politely to Mamapaw, the massive Felane Druidess being easy to spot. He continues looking. "That you have this particular Mielikkian with you is to your benefit, except... hold! What is this before me? Or rather... whom?

Oscar's beady bear-eyes stop and stare at one in your company. His whiskers move this way and that as he fidgets in thought. With great curiosity, he bows to Alisa, his words marching along slowly and clearly. jaydude "Pardon me, miss. But might you be... Lady Paladin Alisa Virtanen of Highwind, sole daughter of Emilia the Gem-cutter and Jarmo the Provider? The one-woman force that the Highwind Rangers say relentlessly hounds Loviatar's foul ilk and who is currently in the good graces of the Maiden of the Forest?

"If so," he glances to Oreleth and adds with hope, "the circumstances surrounding your third option have altered considerably for the better!"

 

[jaydude]

Oscar's beady bear-eyes stop and stare at one in your company. His whiskers move this way and that as he fidgets in thought. With great curiosity, he bows to Alisa, his words marching along slowly and clearly. jaydude "Pardon me, miss. But might you be... Lady Paladin Alisa Virtanen of Highwind, sole daughter of Emilia the Gem-cutter and Jarmo the Provider? The one-woman force that the Highwind Rangers say relentlessly hounds Loviatar's foul ilk and who is currently in the good graces of the Maiden of the Forest?

"If so," he glances to Oreleth and adds with hope, "the circumstances surrounding your third option have altered considerably for the better!"

"I am indeed the daughter of Emilia and Jarmo," Alisa replied, bowing her head towards Oscar in a gesture of respect. "And I have indeed worked with the Highwind Rangers against the agents of Lovitair in the past, and I like to believe I do Mielikki justice with my service to her."

 

[Purr]

"Divine providence," he murmurs. Oscar becomes lost in thought, his furry paws crossed, his big fluffy tail hardly moving from side to side. When he breaks from his reverie, you can see a smile on his fuzzy face as he switches tones to speak more from his heart than his mind.

"Ah, of all of the gem and glass-cutters in our mountain city, I trust only your mother with my array of crystalline objects. Indeed, it was her hands that restored and polished these very crystal globes from which we communicate. Magical item care for gem and jewels often requires a precise eye and highly-skilled hands to ensure proper angles and the like; I enjoy sending my colleagues directly to your mother when their own gem-cutters fail to, ah, hmm, 'make the grade,' shall we say."

"As for your third option. Oreleth?" the red panda looks in her direction and begins to pantomime. "There is only one 'treestump on the path' in my plan. You will require a drinking vessel, the more rare the design the better, preferably crafted of some material meant to ward off evil. You will need this for a certain... collector not far from your 'neck of the woods' of Shandra's Evergreen. Have you such?"

While you are talking, Bria giggles quietly as she stares at Oscar - or rather, his cute and soft fur. "Fuzzy belly!" she whispers. "He is so cuuute!" Her hands begin to twitch in the desire to pet the owner of the greatest analytical mind in all of Highwind. Your Healer may have a medical condition - in her own brain.

 

[Silanon]

Aldrin, the halfling seer, observes - quietly, he watches the scene unfold both in this room and the one seen through highly advanced magic. He pays attention to his new companions as they speak, react, and ponder; and he does his best to pick up on any detail that he can notice of both Oscar and the other man. One does not ignore the hunches of fate; not if one is blessed with the gifts to act upon them, like he is.

But there is also more to be done than to simply observe - he speak up before the talk can change its course completely away from where his words might matter. "One more thing should be mentioned to do the kobolds justice - I can vouch for their willingness to help a lost stranger, and offer hospitality with no ill intents. That alone will not suffice to make them welcome anywhere; but it might make any efforts feel more worthwhile. As for a 'drinking vessel' - I'm not sure if my hjosts here have such a thing. But if not, I'm certain we'll manage to find one."

 

[Kaerri]

This causes the Gray Elf to suddenly sit up and look all over Oscar's study! Shadowdancers can be anywhere! Is Kaerri in this very room? Oscar taps the crystal ball as it passes by alerting Shalin to the source of Kaerri's voice. Immediately Shalin brightens! He has just enough time to scribe three joined Elven sigils in the air before the crystal ball rolls onward.

Spoiler: Does your character speak Elvish?

The joined sigils spell out this message: "Sweet greetings, Kaeritha!"

Kaerri grins and waves as her friend moves out of sight (or rather, the rolling of the ball moves sight away from him.

Wave's voice is mighty and clear as he righteously exclaims, "Death or disfigurement to all who do not convert to the worship of Poseidon!"

Oscar nods once more and performs an ursine bow. "I am adamantly satisfied; you are certainly under no Charm spell. Wave, I thank you and your exalted deity without whom Sharseya would pass from memory and whose seas add beauty to our entire plane of existence." A new idea seems to strike him.

The shadowdancer's grin broadens. That was Wave in a nutshell, for sure. Perhaps Oscar can tell from her expression that no pardon need be asked -- best to be sure, where this sort of thing was concerned.

As the greatest of Highwind's sages waits patiently for an answer (and hopes for as much evidence in your favor as possible), those little black red panda eyes settle on Kaerri - or rather... something about Kaerri. "Miss Elvenheart," he attempts a joke. "Your hair and eyes are... exceptionally pleasing to gaze upon! Is that a new in-fashion cream you have applied to your entire being... or..." he grins, "have you run afoul of a complication involving a Shapeshift potion, scroll, or the like?"

Kaerri tosses her head, sending her ponytail swishing around her face. "It's something, isn't it? Honestly I wouldn't mind the hair and eyes staying this way. The skin's disconcerting though. And... yeah, unwisely sniffed a broken bottle of Shapechange. Lesson learned, and it could have been worse!"

"The wemic tribes, the Highwind minotaurs, the hobbits, the few dwarves and gnomes - all had to provide proof of their love of the city, their willingness to follow its laws, add to its prosperity and defense, and respect for all things inside whether or not they found them to their tastes. And this was during peace-time. With war against Arumgorath's hordes of evil creatures and Highwind's own families, friends, and allies suffering and dying, what sane city could take in creatures widely known for their maliciousness and hate?

"If Nitwit and his friends had been in service longer before this happened, they could've used that as proof," she muses out loud. "Oh, well. Bound to be some way. And they could still get there, long-term."

"As for your third option. Oreleth?" the red panda looks in her direction and begins to pantomime. "There is only one 'treestump on the path' in my plan. You will require a drinking vessel, the more rare the design the better, preferably crafted of some material meant to ward off evil. You will need this for a certain... collector not far from your 'neck of the woods' of Shandra's Evergreen. Have you such?"

As for a 'drinking vessel' - I'm not sure if my hosts here have such a thing. But if not, I'm certain we'll manage to find one."

"Let's ask Stewart," Kaerri suggests. "If this wagon's former owner had something that would suit, he'll likely know about it, right?"

 

[Purr]

Captain Hesperus jaydude Kaerri Psychie Sherwood Silanon

You will need this for a certain... collector not far from your 'neck of the woods' of Shandra's Evergreen. Have you such?"

It takes some time because there are hardly any people still living around in this neck of the woods of Shandra's Evergreen. Alisa of Highwind is able to count more who have moved on over the years than those who have stayed. But then, there is this little 'pull' in her mind as she realizes that 'collector' does describe of them! She has but to close her eyes and she can picture that someone who just might be who Oscar describes - but who she pictures might not be someone that provides her heart much comfort!

Spoiler: Jaydude.

Why, if it isn't the one, the only, Miss Mary Madberry!

(Image: Pinterest because I can't find the artist!]

Alisa remembers tales of this wicked old witch of the woods whose mind had cracked like an aged walnut long before Alisa was born. While Alisa has never met Miss Mary Madberry, Alisa remembers the talk of those few who used to live around these parts. They said that once she was known by another name, but no one remembers it. It was too long ago.

Miss Mary Madberry was once a kind gentlewoman who fell in love with one of Mielikki's druids in her youth. He was a northerner from the Norse tribes who came south to live in Shandra's Evergreen. He was called Baadjr the Codger and people really loved the guy. He was one of Mielikki's best animal druids who go very far out of his way to help forest animals in need no matter what the trouble was. Fire, disease, an imbalance of hunting, he was always there to straighten things out. Baadjr often transformed into the very animals he sought to help and did so so well that people who lived in the woods could not tell him from the beasts no matter how hard they tried. But it is said that he died of old age and when he did, Mary's mind died with him. For she hasn't been the same since.

The foresters call her a witch because she should have been dead of old age too. But that was too long ago for a woman her age to still be walking the earth. Now they say she has picked up where left off, helping animals and keeping the balance of the woodlands to all within her grasp. She keeps to herself most times, but now she cannot tell a Mielikkian from a mannequin. Once, while sleeping in these parts, Alisa heard in the middle of the night the most awful cackling and caterwauling, laughing and laughing at humor known only to her! It did not last long, but it seemed as if a crazed woman was shouting out vile oaths in a language the younger Alisa could not place at the time, but later, she felt it might be the secret language, Druidic! But what sane person spoke that sacred tongue louder than a whisper? Well, the foresters told Paladin Alisa and now she remembers it well.

A collector Miss Mary Madberry was and a collector she is still said to be! But what does a mad-woman collect? Why, things that the forest did not produce like arrowheads and leather, horseshoes and sometimes the riders upon the horses. If these tales are true, she takes anything and anyone she can find that nature did not provide - and she destroys them with great finality. Her wrath is so terrible and her witchcraft so powerful that even the Hill Giants of the Hunderhills choose a different route when they realize they are near her part of the woods.

But somewhere in Miss Mary Madberry, the foresters say, is a keen and restless mind that keeps secrets so old only she knows them. Secrets even the dead have long forgotten. Perhaps secrets that should be forgotten. None can say but her.

Aldrin, the halfling seer, observes - quietly, he watches the scene unfold both in this room and the one seen through highly advanced magic. He pays attention to his new companions as they speak, react, and ponder; and he does his best to pick up on any detail that he can notice of both Oscar and the other man. One does not ignore the hunches of fate; not if one is blessed with the gifts to act upon them, like he is.

Spoiler: Silanon.

At first, it is not elf nor human nor any merging of the two that take the sensitive hobbit's attention and run away with it. Nor is it any kobold nor Felane. Even the Wayward Wagon's three killer mimics seem innocent here, for it is the sight of the oiled staff-in-the-making lying across Kaerri's friend's lap that snatches at Aldrin's mind. That staff-to-be innocently shining in the lamplight of Oscar of Highwind's fine study takes on a different shape as Aldrin finds himself staring and staring at it.

He sees elven hands wracking it with bright bolts of unpredictable lightning, he sees it lifting high into the air before the gaze of some muscled ancient monstrosity who with a single inhale, looses such a blast of all-consuming fire as to cause Aldrin to shield his eyes lest he lose them for all time. The staff glows. The staff grows.

Time passes and Aldrin sees ice - hard and thick, mighty and cold enough to chill to the bone. And feet! Large booted feet far more massive than any humans. Feet that cross the ice as if evil itself had taken elemental form and in that form created a bridge most terrifying - one that allowed the evil from another world to walk freely into this one!

Aldrin sees the staff. It stands upon the middle of the bridge, it's wooden end touching the icy surface resulting a tiny cloud of steam. On one side of the staff is the green and good realm of Sharseya with all of its precious wonders. On the other, some time-riddled hell made of frost and malice. Perhaps it is better that Aldrin cannot think of its name. But across that bridge on the side of hate and pain, Aldrin senses something watching.

Something watching him!

When Aldrin comes out of his trance, he finds he is back! Back aboard the Wayward Wagon with the welcome sounds of would-be friends and hospitality, strangeness and kindness intertwined to be sure. And yet... as Aldrin breathes out a sigh of relief... there is a chill inside of his lungs that wracks his body with a moment of sudden, stabbing pain. And when Aldrin exhales to let that pain free...

... he sees frost... frost on his breath.

The frost fades, the pain leaves, and Aldrin is once again... safe... for the time being.

Kaerri tosses her head, sending her ponytail swishing around her face. "It's something, isn't it? Honestly I wouldn't mind the hair and eyes staying this way. The skin's disconcerting though. And... yeah, unwisely sniffed a broken bottle of Shapechange. Lesson learned, and it could have been worse!"

"Indeed," grins Oscar as, with Shalin's help, he has procured a heavy book from a high shelf and is now carefully using his little red panda paws to sift through the pages with such swiftness and care as only a long-experienced lover of books possesses. "You might have instead been transformed into a cooshee*," he uses the name of the beloved elf-hounds raised by the Wood Elves of the Forest Eternal.

"Aha!" His paw stops on a page as his eyes gaze smoothly across its contents. "Cheese," he remarks. "Melted cheese." Oscar looks at Kaerri. "If your affliction is less than six days old, I recommend starting with a fist-sized block of cheese. Melt it slowly over an open flame and pour the residue from the cheese into a bowl. If gently pressed and held into the skin should remove the arcane mixture that most Shapechange are derived from. You will find the residue, when applied to the skin, will not stick nor make mess. Instead, your skin should absorb it and return to normal in the span of three minutes.

"Of course, the best part is..." Oscar rubs his paws together, "... eating the fresh cheese afterward! That simply fills your belly. Have you some cheese handy or should I order some for your next visit? I know of three very fine shops, each competing with the other to make theirs Highwind's most famous." Oscar brushes his whiskers and adds, "Odd are the thoughts of people involved in war."

"Let's ask Stewart," Kaerri suggests. "If this wagon's former owner had something that would suit, he'll likely know about it, right?"

(GM to Players here - who would like to be the first? Last you saw him, he was outside at the reins of four awesome jade hippogriff golems who pull this place across the skies! =) )

*As seen in this video around the 8:20 mark. =)

 

[jaydude]

"As for your third option. Oreleth?" the red panda looks in her direction and begins to pantomime. "There is only one 'treestump on the path' in my plan. You will require a drinking vessel, the more rare the design the better, preferably crafted of some material meant to ward off evil. You will need this for a certain... collector not far from your 'neck of the woods' of Shandra's Evergreen. Have you such?"

Alisa remembers tales of this wicked old witch of the woods whose mind had cracked like an aged walnut long before Alisa was born. While Alisa has never met Miss Mary Madberry, Alisa remembers the talk of those few who used to live around these parts. They said that once she was known by another name, but no one remembers it. It was too long ago.

Miss Mary Madberry was once a kind gentlewoman who fell in love with one of Mielikki's druids in her youth. He was a northerner from the Norse tribes who came south to live in Shandra's Evergreen. He was called Baadjr the Codger and people really loved the guy. He was one of Mielikki's best animal druids who go very far out of his way to help forest animals in need no matter what the trouble was. Fire, disease, an imbalance of hunting, he was always there to straighten things out. Baadjr often transformed into the very animals he sought to help and did so so well that people who lived in the woods could not tell him from the beasts no matter how hard they tried. But it is said that he died of old age and when he did, Mary's mind died with him. For she hasn't been the same since.

The foresters call her a witch because she should have been dead of old age too. But that was too long ago for a woman her age to still be walking the earth. Now they say she has picked up where left off, helping animals and keeping the balance of the woodlands to all within her grasp. She keeps to herself most times, but now she cannot tell a Mielikkian from a mannequin. Once, while sleeping in these parts, Alisa heard in the middle of the night the most awful cackling and caterwauling, laughing and laughing at humor known only to her! It did not last long, but it seemed as if a crazed woman was shouting out vile oaths in a language the younger Alisa could not place at the time, but later, she felt it might be the secret language, Druidic! But what sane person spoke that sacred tongue louder than a whisper? Well, the foresters told Paladin Alisa and now she remembers it well.

A collector Miss Mary Madberry was and a collector she is still said to be! But what does a mad-woman collect? Why, things that the forest did not produce like arrowheads and leather, horseshoes and sometimes the riders upon the horses. If these tales are true, she takes anything and anyone she can find that nature did not provide - and she destroys them with great finality. Her wrath is so terrible and her witchcraft so powerful that even the Hill Giants of the Hunderhills choose a different route when they realize they are near her part of the woods.

But somewhere in Miss Mary Madberry, the foresters say, is a keen and restless mind that keeps secrets so old only she knows them. Secrets even the dead have long forgotten. Perhaps secrets that should be forgotten. None can say but her.

"This collector you mentioned," Alisa said to Oscar. "She wouldn't happen to be Miss Mary Madberry, would she?"

Her tone would indicate to the others that this was someone to be treated with no small degree of caution.

 

[Psychie]

Oreleth rises and says, "If the Wagon has a chalice that might work for a gift, I would hazard a guess that Stewart knows it's location. I'll go inquire with him about that. If you will all excuse me, I'll be back momentarily ." With that, the elf heads up to the top of the wagon where Stewart is currently at the reins to check.

Edited thanks to Purr and his eagle eye in spotting errors in spelling

 

[Kaerri]

"Indeed," grins Oscar as, with Shalin's help, he has procured a heavy book from a high shelf and is now carefully using his little red panda paws to sift through the pages with such swiftness and care as only a long-experienced lover of books possesses. "You might have instead been transformed into a cooshee*," he uses the name of the beloved elf-hounds raised by the Wood Elves of the Forest Eternal.

"Aha!" His paw stops on a page as his eyes gaze smoothly across its contents. "Cheese," he remarks. "Melted cheese." Oscar looks at Kaerri. "If your affliction is less than six days old, I recommend starting with a fist-sized block of cheese. Melt it slowly over an open flame and pour the residue from the cheese into a bowl. If gently pressed and held into the skin should remove the arcane mixture that most Shapechange are derived from. You will find the residue, when applied to the skin, will not stick nor make mess. Instead, your skin should absorb it and return to normal in the span of three minutes.

"Of course, the best part is..." Oscar rubs his paws together, "... eating the fresh cheese afterward! That simply fills your belly. Have you some cheese handy or should I order some for your next visit? I know of three very fine shops, each competing with the other to make theirs Highwind's most famous." Oscar brushes his whiskers and adds, "Odd are the thoughts of people involved in war."

"Aha!" Kaerri grins. "Oh, we've some handy, I'm sure, but I'll wait until we're done talking and I've some time free. Thanks for looking it up!"

She nods in response to Oreleth's going to ask Stewart about the chalice, then turns back to the crystal ball, curious about who this "Miss Mary Madberry" is and whether she is indeed the person they'll be looking for.

 

[Purr]

Captain Hesperus jaydude Kaerri Psychie Sherwood Silanon

"This collector you mentioned," Alisa said to Oscar. "She wouldn't happen to be Miss Mary Madberry, would she?"

Her tone would indicate to the others that this was someone to be treated with no small degree of caution.

This question stops Oscar's every movement. That little red panda face turns and stares at Alisa in what can only be called sheer amazement. "Your mother did not exaggerate; you do excel at what you put your mind to!" Oscar rubs his chin.

Mamapaw, her large red eyes studying Alisa with a mother's gaze, says, "You seem wary, Alisa. I have never heard of this collector before. Would you share your thoughts with us?"

Powerpaw makes swinging motions with his paws as if they were holding a giant imaginary hammer. "Yeah! Is dis some kinda forest-spirit we gotta beat up evil peeps ta make happy? Boy oh boy, I hope sooo!"

* * *​

Oreleth rises and says, "If the Wagon has a chalice that might work for a gift, I would hazard a guess that Stewart knows it's location. I'll go inquire with him about that. If you will all excuse me, I'll be back momentarily ." With that, the elf heads up to the top of the wagon where Stewart is currently at the reins to check.

Edited thanks to Purr and his eagle eye in spotting errors in spelling

Oreleth approaches the only door in or out of the Wayward Wagon. As always, two pots filled with some kind of herb or incense make for strange purple clouds that lift all around the exit. Whilst inside, Oreleth can hear nothing outside and vice versa.

So who can blame her if she is surprised when she exits into outer reaches of a gusty rainstorm?

Droplets of water by the dozens strike Oreleth's feet in the span it would take her to gasp. Above her, sullen stormclouds boom and hurl distant lightning bolts into the beautiful green of the forest, one elemental force aiding another as it has always been since Sharseya joined the universe. The wind is nonstop but it does not threaten driver nor arcane archer. The worst of the storm is in the distance - Stewart has seen to it that you are circling around the wrathful mass of drenching clouds. Under the overhang, Oreleth sees the slightly-wet Stewart calmly and with great care guiding the four massively magical hippogriffs that carry the wagon aloft on green wide wings. The bench on which he sits has room for two more if one holds onto their personal belongings. Wind has always been the swiftest of thieves.

So focused on his task is the Wayward Wagon's most astute and caring steward that the old fellow does not notice he has company but a few feet behind him in the attractive form of Oreleth.

"Aha!" Kaerri grins. "Oh, we've some handy, I'm sure, but I'll wait until we're done talking and I've some time free. Thanks for looking it up!"

Oscar grins. "We are both fortunate that I came by the necessary volume that holds the only other adventurer we know about who mishandled a Shapechange potion! And the solution he came by!"

What do the Wayward Wanderers do?

 

[Sherwood]

When Luna sees the reaction of Alisa to the name, she does her best to recall what, if anything, she may know about this woman.

 

[Psychie]

Oreleth takes a moment to close her eyes and lift her face up to the sky, enjoying the feel of the rain on her. As an elf, she is not one to shy away from the elements, and she found the rainfall to be most pleasant.

After her quiet moment, she looks over at Stewart and wordlessly slips over to join him at the bench. Oreleth smiles at the sight of the circling rain clouds, seeing the beauty on them even as she respects the power of the storm.

She continues to sit, waiting for Stewart to break the silence.

 

[jaydude]

This question stops Oscar's every movement. That little red panda face turns and stares at Alisa in what can only be called sheer amazement. "Your mother did not exaggerate; you do excel at what you put your mind to!" Oscar rubs his chin.

Mamapaw, her large red eyes studying Alisa with a mother's gaze, says, "You seem wary, Alisa. I have never heard of this collector before. Would you share your thoughts with us?"

Powerpaw makes swinging motions with his paws as if they were holding a giant imaginary hammer. "Yeah! Is dis some kinda forest-spirit we gotta beat up evil peeps ta make happy? Boy oh boy, I hope sooo!"

"I fear that you will be disappointed," Alisa replied to Powerpaw, adding to the effect with a degree of exaggerated solemnness. But only a degree.

"Miss Mary Madberry is said to be a witch of the forest, and one who possesses such power and wrath that even the Hill Giants of the Hunderhills try to avoid her," she explained to the group as a whole. "According to what I have heard, long before any of us would have been born, she fell in love with a druid of Mielikki who had travelled from the north to watch over Shandra's Evergreen. After the druid passed on from this world, she lost her mind, and now she wanders the forest to seek and destroy anything that could not have originated from it. Weapons, leather, works of metal and so on. And sometimes even people, if certain stories are true."

 

[Sherwood]

Luna frowns, saying, "If all that you have heard of her is true, then why would she be interested in a cup, no matter how fancy it is?"

 

[Purr]

"I fear that you will be disappointed," Alisa replied to Powerpaw, adding to the effect with a degree of exaggerated solemnness. But only a degree.

"Miss Mary Madberry is said to be a witch of the forest, and one who possesses such power and wrath that even the Hill Giants of the Hunderhills try to avoid her," she explained to the group as a whole. "According to what I have heard, long before any of us would have been born, she fell in love with a druid of Mielikki who had travelled from the north to watch over Shandra's Evergreen. After the druid passed on from this world, she lost her mind, and now she wanders the forest to seek and destroy anything that could not have originated from it. Weapons, leather, works of metal and so on. And sometimes even people, if certain stories are true."

Powerpaw only appears let down for about half a second when his natural energies kick in and throw any thoughts of disappointment out of the Wayward Wagon never to return. However, he proves once again that Intelligence and Wisdom are often not priorities for gladiators and warriors like himself.

"Hay, hay! Guys, I gotta briwwiant idea! If she don't like Hill Giants, mebbe we kin go to dese Hunderhills an' smack a few of 'em around! And when dey ask, 'Whatcha doin' dat fer?' We kin sez, 'Da Miss Mary Madberry witch sent us! She sez, don't bother her no more!' Den we go back ta Miss Mary and tells her what we dids! Mebbe she'd like us den and we'd get ta smack some giants around! Double-win!" The muscled Felane turns to see if his exciting plan has any merit. "Whaddya say, guys?!"

"Fuzzy Goof," Bria gently calls out. "If that plan were a sailing vessel, it would sink to the bottom."

"Huh? Howcome?"

As not to interrupt the general flow of the conversation, Bria steps over to the towering Fuzzy Goof. He leans down, his cat-ears turned in her direction in a clear show of trust. She begins to whisper and he begins to listen.

Mamapaw looks from the unlikely pair of friends back to the Wayward Wanderers with a smile and a sigh. "I love my son but if he ever runs this party, we are all in dire trouble. As for Miss Mary Madberry," the Felane's whiskers flare as she looks to Alisa, "how do we find her?"

* * *​

She continues to sit, waiting for Stewart to break the silence.

"Gadzooks!" exclaims Stewart as he finally notices Oreleth. He recovers quickly and thankfully his cool hands never mishandle the reins. "A thousand pardons, Oreleth! This little piece of heaven's wrath decided to come out of the north! It is the magic of the Cratian realms north of Highwind or I will eat my cap!" The feathered hat he is referring to is doing a splendid job of keeping what rain you are getting out of his eyes.

Old Stewart waves his hand at the beauty and majesty of the natural world laid out below you as precious few people on all of the continent of Averlund get to see it. "This! Do you see this?" Only a blind person could not see what Oreleth beholds. "This is what I want Beatrice to enjoy once more! Bilal the Rich, blast his wretched soul past the Nine Hells, has robbed her far worse than he robbed even me!" He frowns a moment then his eyes lift upward in realization. "Ahh, and here I go dowsing your own moment of enjoying this panorama. Do forgive an old fellow for his curses, won't you?" he gives Oreleth a grin.

With a distant look toward the wet horizon, Stewart takes a deep breath of the fresh good air, and exhales seemingly taking pleasure in the very act of breathing. "The older one becomes, the more one tends to reflect on past years... and with a little providence and persistence, learn from them and grow wiser for their lessons."

 

[Psychie]

"My apologies, master Stewart. I did not mean to disturb or startle you. I just was enjoying the sights enough that I didn't wish to break the spell with unneeded speech." Oreleth smiles at the old man as she shifts in the bench. "But however much I would enjoy sitting here with you for a time, there is something I did come out here to ask you. We are in need of finding a chalice, one that is quite remarkable in its beauty and value as a gift to someone that might be able to help out our kobold passengers find a new home. Is there something like that in the Wagon somewhere that you know of?"

 

[jaydude]

Mamapaw looks from the unlikely pair of friends back to the Wayward Wanderers with a smile and a sigh. "I love my son but if he ever runs this party, we are all in dire trouble. As for Miss Mary Madberry," the Felane's whiskers flare as she looks to Alisa, "how do we find her?"

"If you're asking how we can track her down, I wouldn't know," Alisa replied apologetically. "Whether by my goddess or other sources, I've never exactly been given any reason to try. All I know is that once, while I was resting in the Evergreen, I heard someone laughing and swearing foul oaths in what I suspect to be Druidic. And I can't think of anyone but our Mary who would use that language in such a vulgar manner."

"But unless I should hear such a thing again, I would imagine we'd have little choice but to wait for her to approach us," she continued on, laying out her thoughts on the matter. "What is it you would seek to gain from a meeting with her anyway?"

 

[Sherwood]

Luna pipes up with, "To get her permission to resettle the kobolds in her forest. If we were to just deep them off, I hazard a guess that it wouldn't end well for our guests, and maybe us, too."