Zion: Light of the New Moon, Ch 4.3 Myrh
Zion - Light of the New Moon Chapter 4.3
Myrh Fallen From Grace
The group has decided that it isn't worthwhile looking for survivors; at this point it's all about finding the Divine Shield.
"I still don't know why we have to go all the way out here." Beo scowled, "This is stupid."
"It really isn't, Mr Kyr." Brother Farstrider pointed out, seated on a feral mule as the two of them led a small group of guards and workers in the direction indicated by the scouts, "Finding the site of the destroyed caravan might help us identify what problem they ran into, and if they have--"
"No, I mean why WE have to go all the way out here." the black husky clarified, motioning between himself and the priest, "No offense or anything, but I'd rather have other company." the dog's eyes went back and forth from his own saddle to the priest, to his paws, to the priest, before he added, "no offense." again.
The wolf laughed at the comment, "No... I completely understand, Mr Kyr... I'm sure there's someone specific you'd rather travel with but, at the same time, we must all make sacrifices for the good of the caravan."
"Done that several times in a row already." Beo mumbled.
"What I mean to say," the priest clarified, "is that your magic and my Divine Shield will go a long way in keeping these men safe." he motioned to the workers behind them, "We need to see what we can find out at site of the failed caravan, and hopefully minimize the chance of anyone getting hurt."
"Yea..." Beo mumbled anew, "Well after all of these interruptions I'm hurting already." and he not-so-inconspicuously adjusted his groin. Whether Brother Farstrider heard the comment or not, he didn't let on.
It was less than an hour later when their two scouts led them to the site they found earlier. Several miles away from the Highway they encountered the remains of the caravan. Two wagons and a carriage where gathered in what looked like three sides of a square, and a burned out campfire sat in the middle. A few bodies were strewn about, rotting in the sun.
Beo covered his muzzle, "Ugh... it's FOUL!" he glanced around, and pointed with a free paw at the open side of the square where deep grooves in the loose dirt identified that something had once been there, "And it looks like one of the vehicles is missing."
The priest nodded, "They've been dead for several weeks..." he responded to the first comment,and then slowly dismounted, leading the feral mule over to the wagons, "I wonder... is this....?" and he paused, kneeling down over one of the dead bodies dressed in the armor of a commander. He pulled a bloodied slip of paper out of the slain officer's tunic.
As the wolf unrolled the scroll, Beo approached, paw still over his nose, "Goddess..." he breathed, looking down at the eviscerated stag, "what kind of creature could gut open an armored soldier like that?"
"Get what supplies you can." the priest noted to the workers, not bothering to answer the husky's question. He then climbed back up onto his mule.
"What's the rush?" Beo questioned.
Brother Farstrider brandished the paper, "We just found the missing delegation to Zion." he paused, glancing back at the collection of wagons before his ears drooped, "or... part of it, anyway..."
Beo pulled himself back up onto his own mount, "Are you sure?"
The priest nodded quietly, folding up the scroll as he put it away, "I was going to be traveling with them." he glanced to the stunned husky, "So... yes... I am very sure." and the two rode quickly back toward their own wagon train in silence.
A few miles closer to the caravan, Jerard trotted along beside Anya as she rode westward, albeit, not as far as Farstrider and Kyr. The Priestess was mounted on one of the caravan's dwodyn, a lanky, four legged beast with long legs. They were decent for riding, but too weak to act as pack animals. Even though the giraffe-like mount kept a decent pace, Jerard had little trouble keeping up as he ran beside it on all fours-- just one of the many benefits of his Moon Blessed form. Despite his injuries, Jerard was glad to be away from the caravan's countless eyes and ears.
Their journey was a silent one, which was perfect for the werewolf. He rarely spoke anyway, and it seemed that Priestess Fanewatcher had all the inclination of a mute when it came to talking. Their group was a small one: the two of them, and four soldiers. They were scouting for something specific at the priestess' request and, according to her, there wouldn't be much to recover.
They had traveled for over an hour from the site of the overturned wagon, heading off of the Highway in search of... Jerard actually had no idea what they were searching for. "Priestess..." he growled at her. He hadn't meant to growl, but his form made it entirely too easy.
"Jerard." she responded simply.
"What are we looking for?" he asked her.
"A carriage." she answered cryptically.
They continued along for almost a minute before Jerard pushed out another question with a scowl, "Why?"
"It was Brother Korrik's." she answered, "Which means it is possible that we might find his Divine Shield."
Jerard slowed, and came to a stop. He raised his nose to the wind, turning his head this way and that before slowly puzzling out direction. He loped forward, catching up with Anya's dwodyn and waited several strides before speaking, "It's north of here."
Not bothering to ask for any clarification, Priestess Fanewatcher pulled on the reins of her mount and realigned it in the correct direction. Without speaking a word, the jackal continued onward until the party came to a large lip overlooking a sharp grade leading down into a shallow crevasse. At the bottom of the slope was an overturned carriage... surrounded by blood.
They descended the slope in silence the dwodyn taking their time as their riders slowly picked out a path. Jerard's curiosity got the better of him, and he grew restless at their slow pace. Rising up onto his hind legs, the werewolf widened his stance and slid down the scree on the slope, reaching the crash site well before them. He dropped to all fours again as he lowered his muzzle to the ground, sniffing at the blood. "Herd Beasts... probably beasts of burden." he called over his shoulder.
"Do you think they butchered their mounts after their supplies ran out?" one soldier asked another.
"No..." Jerard interrupted their discussion as he sniffed again, "Something came through here... it was a predator."
"So it would seem." Anya noted casually, pulling her mount up alongside the carriage, resting a paw against a deep set of claw marks which carved a long, eight inch set of lines more than an inch deep through the hardwood of the vehicle.
It took the group less than five minutes to search through the wreckage. According to one of the soldiers, who grew up working for his father, a carriage-maker, it appeared that the carriage veered out of control when it hit the slope too quickly, and came to rest on its side. When asked about the huge claw mark on the wood he only shrugged.
"We have all the answers we need." Anya added before any more questions could be asked.
"So the Divine Shield isn't here?" questioned Jerard.
"No... but it was worthwhile regardless." the priestess noted, running her paw across the claw marks again, "I'm certain Brother Tomal will want to know about this..."
A human soldier mounted on a feral horse beside the jackal turned to her, "And the Demon of Ashlai, Priestess? Father Tomal might want her to know that another--" he was interrupted when the back of Anya's paw struck him across the cheek.
"Brother Tomal will want to know, and so he will be informed... but,' she added, "beyond that, the information does not leave this group... understood?" the priestess' dire expression gave no leeway for argument.
Even further east, on the opposite side of the Highway, Artemisia and Kell made their way silently through the tall grasses and dense shrubs of the varied hills. The Highway did an excellent job of cutting through the most even portion of the lands, but, no longer afforded the luxury of the road, the two were forced to take difficult paths up and down the rolling landscape. Thanks to their respective prowess, and not being weighed down by a large group, they made good time.
Brother Farstrider's group had been sent on a recovery mission while a small search party went with Priestess Fanewatcher. Unlike the other groups sent out by the caravan's leaders, the dragoness and the assassin had no backup and no support... it was just the two of them. They moved quickly, until Artemisia called for a break, slumping down to take a seat beside a boulder.
Kell circled back and sat atop it, looking down at the dragoness as she began to take off some of her bandages, "Still healing?" he asked casually.
"What does it look like?" she retorted, removing the last of the bled-through cloth. Artemisia balled them up, making certain to wipe any of her blood from her talons before she threw the scraps down into a ravine. She pulled several fresh loops of linen from her pack and began to redress the injuries.
"You should probably consider resting more." Kell suggested.
"I haven't asked for your advice, and yet you're still interested in giving it." she replied tersely.
"You're a little more guarded as of late..." the assassin observed, "Does it have to do with that kiss you stole from the Captain?"
Artemisia let out a faint hiss, eyes squinting as she glared at the leopard/wolf, "If I have any reason to believe you're smiling beneath that face mask, you'll be joining my used bandages." The dragoness went back to wrapping her wounds. Kell, in response, chuckled, leaning back on the rock, not even bothering to look at the long drop that awaited him if she were to make good on her threat.
Once Artemisia had finished rewrapping her wounds, the two travelers started off again immediately. It was nearing late afternoon before they finally found signs of what they were seeking. Kell identified them first: imprints in the sand, and a set of footprints leading off into the distance. The two had to double back twice, losing the trail two times before the followed it to its completion. Finally, as the sky was just starting to turn gold with the setting of the sun, the two saw a small cave sticking up out of a rocky cliff face.
"Slowly..." Kell warned, "if there's still anything inside it'll be most likely to attack first before it sees we mean it no harm."
"If it's whatever is responsible for the destruction of the caravan, we probably DO mean it harm." Artemisia countered. Kell did not bother refuting that argument.
The two crept closer to the cave entrance and, as they reached it, they each stopped. The cave was little more than a slight recess in the rock. A broad line firepit, long-since burned out separated the entrance from the back, leaving a trail of blackened, charred remains of firewood in a semi-circle between the scouts and a figure near the rear of the cave covered by cloth and blankets. A scaled tail was trailing out of the pile of linens, unmoving.
"Hey... you." Artemisia called flatly. When the figure didn't respond, she crept closer, "Hail." she noted in a firm voice. Kell moved closer as well, paws resting on the punching daggers at his belt. Artemisia stood right next to the pile of rags and gave it a slight kick... still nothing.
"It doesn't smell dead." Kell noted, and began looking around at the collection of junk housed against the back wall of the cave. He paused when he saw the Sickle Moon symbol on a small box, "This stuff must have come from the caravan.
Artemisia shrugged and began uncovering the unmoving individual, "But the question is..." Artemisia noted quietly, moving a torn tunic from the figure's face. She gazed down at visage of an unconscious alligator, "...is he?" She didn't hear what Kell said next, her eyes locked on the uncovered face, eyes searching it for any sign of... of what? She shook her head, unable to figure out her own thoughts. Reaching forward, she slapped the alligator's muzzle several times, and sighed when he didn't respond. Uncovering him further, she paused when she she saw what he held in his talon.
"There are all kinds of books here." Kell noted, motioning to several torn and ratty tomes resting against the wall. He knelt down and opened one, "They're logs of the trip."
"We're returning." Artemisia announced, reaching down to pull the chalice out of of the alligator's claws.
"Is that what we're looking for?" Kell asked, looking at the dragoness.
"I believe so." she nodded with far more certainty than her voice allowed.
"Alright." the assassin confirmed, and he began to gather up the books, "I'm taking these too.." he announced, "They might shed some light on what happened." He slid them into his backpack, then turned to regard Artemisia when she grunted. "What are you doing?" he asked, looking at her as she hefted the enormous alligator up onto her back.
"I'm taking him too..." she stated flatly, using his same words, "He might shed some light on what happened."
Back at camp, Yearl and Thera sat quietly on a wagon's tailgate, watching over the stopped caravan. Although Yearl had argued the importance of moving beyond what could have possibly been a dangerous area, he really didn't have any substance to his argument since there were no certain signs that the Highway was unsafe. In the end, he sat watch awaiting the return of the search parties. He didn't approve of the priestess' decision to split up the scouting but he was able to appreciate the fact that it would hopefully allow them to get the job done that much faster.
"What were you thinking when you left me in Myrh?" Thera asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
"I was trying not to think." the lion answered, "I was following orders."
"Something had to have been going through your mind." she accused, reaching up to turn him to face her.
A smile spread across his muzzle, "You mean, like how I wasn't worried about my fate?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" she questioned, eying him appraisingly.
He leaned toward her, his nose hovering a scant inch in front of hers, "Leaving you felt worse than dying... anything else that could have happened to me after that wouldn't have been nearly as bad." and he kissed her.
She smiled as he pulled away, "That's a canned response." she responded, "You're just telling me what I want to hear... I expected as much."
The Captain chuckled, "Well, if you expected it then why did you bother asking such a canned question?" he asked playfully.
"You're an asshole, Yearl Rakken." Thera accused.
"Just your type?" he inquired, tail lashing back and forth.
"Never found anyone better." she winked, and they renewed their kiss, her fingers entwining with his. She pressed her free paw against his chest, pushing him onto his back as she slid atop him. The lion let out a rumbling breath, the soft growl coming out as a powerful purr once Thera began to skillfully undo the straps holding his breeches on.
"Priest Farstrider returns!" the shout from one of the scouts made Thera pause.
"Eh..." she shrugged, "Fuck it." and she continued pulling at his breeches.
"That call is for me, my darling." Yearl noted, reaching down to grab her paw.
"It can wait." she argued.
"It is my duty, Thera..." he noted, a little more firmly, easing her back.
"Sometimes you're TOO good a man, Yearl." she noted, feigning annoyance... though some of it may have been more than an act.
"I will make it up to you tonight." he noted, rebuckling his belt.
"You had better." she scolded him playfully.
"At least twice." he promised, exchanging a kiss with her.
"At least." she confirmed, and he took his leave, heading toward the scout who was pointing to the rapidly approaching salvage team. Judging by the bulk on the mounts, they had apparently been successful. Brother Farstrider and Beo Kyr checked in before they each went their separate way, leaving Yearl to see to the disbursement of their gathered goods. The Priest mentioned something about going to get cleaned up, followed by a prayer session; Beo just mentioned something about being in his carriage, and that he was not to be disturbed.
Captain Rakken had just enough time to see to the stowing of the new supplies when the scouts announced the return of Priestess Fanewatcher. Beo, in a surprisingly better mood, quickly showed up and joined the welcome party that waited to greet the returning search party. Anya and two of her soldiers passed right past Yearl without a word, heading right into her pavilion. The other guards from the search party merged back in with the caravan and went about their usual business. Captain Rakken watched as Jerard and Beo met up and headed off toward the fire pit where supper was cooking.
Yearl remained seated at the outskirts of the caravan, watching patiently as he gazed east waiting for the last two members of the scouting parties to return. The sun had all but set when he was joined by Thera. She slid a bowl of fireside stew into his paws, "Eat." she directed.
The lion sighed, gazing out at the twilight-lit landscape, "I want to get us moving again tomorrow." he noted, and he looked down at the bowl in his paws as his lover leaned her head against his shoulder, "Knowing Artemisia, I'm starting to get worried that she won't be back tonight."
"She's in good company." the mouse responded, "She'll make it back."
"I have no doubt of that." he retorted, glancing at her with a smirk, "I'm not worried that she's going to die... I'm worried that she'll just stay out all night accepting all comers in a dragoness-versus-Wild-Lands free-for-all."
"You just need to get your mind off things." the mouse grinned, taking the stew from his paw. She set it down on the ground and stood, moving over and settling into his lap.
"Didn't you say you wanted me to eat?" he asked mirthfully.
"You will..." she answered, sliding her paws up beneath his leather armor, "... a little later."
The lion chuckled lustfully, standing up off the rock where he had sat, the mouse's legs wrapped around his midsection. "There's a prayer in Doen, spoken during the union of two lovers..."
"Is there?" she asked, nibbling on his shoulder as her paws explored his ribs, then hips.
"Mmm." he noted in confirmation, "It goes, 'oh goddess'."
Thera laughed, unlatching the strap just above the lion's tail at the back of his trousers, "That's a real prayer, is it?" she chuckled.
"It is..." he noted, grinning, "I'll see if can help you recite it several times tonight." and he walked her back to his carriage, stew forgotten.
Several hours later, Yearl sat by the fire, eyes still gazing eastward. Thera remained in his carriage, sleeping peacefully. He had the joy of falling asleep in her arms just as she had in his, but he didn't have the luxury to remain asleep, and so he had gone back to the campfire to await the return of the last two scouts. The lion remained motionless, dressed only his in his breeches, ignoring the cool, springtime chill of the night's breeze.
"That's a lot of wounds... for an officer." the voice was the lion's first clue as to the scout's presence. The stealthy leopard-wolf emerged from the darkness, flittering between the firelight almost like a living shadow.
Yearl didn't bother covering up at the comment, the cross-crossing lines of battle scars obvious even in the firelight, showing up as hairless streaks across his graying fur. He motioned to one, "I took an axe from a Banniharian while I was helping to shore up a defensive line." he pointed to another, "Pike man from Myre." and to another, "Myrhian Crossbow."
"Myrhian?" the shadowy figure inquired, sitting across from him at the fire.
"I wasn't always a Commander for Myrh... just like you weren't always a 'scout'... Kell Vederik."
"The dragoness told you?" the assassin questioned. Yearl didn't miss the fact that the leopard/wolf's paws inched closer to the punching daggers at his belt.
"No..." the lion chuckled, "I've known for awhile now."
"How?" came the pointed inquiry.
The Captain turned, and motioned to a long scar that ran from his left collar bone down to just above his right nipple, "Young but skilled Shradian assassin..." Yearl also didn't miss the eyes wide with surprise that stared out at him from beneath the cowl.
"I--" Kell studdered.
"I have a feeling that I wouldn't be alive today if I hadn't been your first target."
"I--" Kell repeated, but was interrupted by the sound of a heavy body landing on the ground just within the range of the campfire.
"Thank you for the help." Artemisia noted flatly to the assassin.
"I carried the chalice and the books." the leopard/wolf countered.
"Compared to a 400 pound alligator? That isn't much help." she stated.
"Goddess..." Yearl murmured, standing up, "What is this?"
"A survivor from that other caravan." Kell announced, still eying Yearl.
"Am I interrupting something?" Artemisia inquired, looking between the assassin and commander.
"Just old news." the lion responded, "I'll have someone see to the alli--"
"No need." Priestess Fanewatcher interjected. She motioned to the gator and several workers accompanying her moved to heft him up, "I will take care of this myself."
"Priestess, we--" Artemisia was quick to speak up, but Anya was faster to interrupt.
"You found the Chalice?" she inquired.
Kell nodded, "Yes..." and he pulled it out of his pack, "along with several logs of--" he didn't have a chance to finish speaking as the priestess' workers pulled the cup and bag right out of his paws.
"Excellent work. You will both be commended." the jackal acknowledged, and about-faced, returning directly to her pavilion with the gator, logs, and chalice in tow.
"You're welcome." Kell and Artemisia stated at the closed tent flap in the exact same flat tone. Yearl would have laughed, if not for the sudden concern that more was going on than he was privy to... and the lion hated not having all of the pieces to a puzzle.
* * * * *
The Myrhean Group has completed Chapter 4.
It seems that they found what there was to find in regard to the other caravan... now we'll have to wait and see what happens because of it.
After respective healing, injuries now show thusly: Artemisia still has 1 Lethal wound, as does Jerard. Everyone else has healed on their own or received divine healing.
All characters also lose 1 Major Fatigue and all Minor Fatigue. Fatigue remains as follows: Artemisia has 2 Major Fatigue, as does Ryan Farstrider and Anya Fanewatcher.
Artemisia already used 2 experience on top of her 1 Willpower to recover her physical health-- she has no remaining Willpower to remove her Fatigue. Ryan and Anya may spend Willpower if they wish on a 1 per 1 basis to remove their fatigue. Anya elects to do so with 1 Willpower.
At this point the group will have to figure out what to do with the alligator they have under Anya's care.
1) Whoever he is, he's a rugged and resilient individual... spend 1 Luck and recruit him as an ally for the trip!
2) Not enough is known about this gator... it's alright if Anya gets him on his feet, but as soon as he can be dropped off the group will find the most reasonable place to do so.
3) If he's the ONLY survivor then there's something that the group is obviously missing. At the first opportunity drop him off by the side of the road and let the Wild Lands sort him out.
4) There's something wrong about him... don't wait for death to take him-- wrap him up in a ribbon and execute the damn lizard!
Please watch for upcoming contribution opportunities as Chapter 5 will soon begin. Congratulations to the Myrhean party for surviving Chapter 4!