T Lain - Treachery's Wake

Krusk grunted and cracked open a chunk of crab leg that he was roasting over the fire He tossed a piece of it to the women.

“Tried to eat us,” he explained, “so it only seemed fair to return the favor.”

“In the ship?” Vadania asked.

“Between this and a couple of kobolds,” the barbarian said between mouthfuls, “we were busy.”

“The kobolds must have been in there a while. I didn’t find any tracks,” Vadania said. “Either way, I doubt the staff is still here.”

Lidda joined them near the fire and said, “Krusk and I went back in for a thorough search after we got Malthooz out.”

“Nothing,” Krusk said with disgust.

“There’s more, though,” Lidda said. “That boat wasn’t run aground by a storm. It was attacked. Someone put a boulder the size of a bugbear through the mast. The way I see it, if we follow the trail you found up into the hills, we’ll find what we’re after.” A grin crept across her face. “I’d wager that old wizard is good for a few more coins if we go through the extra trouble.”

“If the guild doesn’t take too big a cut,” Krusk said. “I like this job less and less.”

Malthooz groaned and stirred. Soon he sat up, rubbing his head.

“Where…?”

Krusk handed him a piece of crabmeat. “We were attacked and you were knocked out,” he said.

There was a definite edge to his words, but Vadania ignored the barbarian’s tone.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

“My head is splitting,” Malthooz replied. He moved his arms in wide circles, flexing his hands open and closed. “I think I’m all right, though.”

Vadania pointed at the symbol around his neck and asked, “Where did you get that?”

Malthooz stuffed the symbol back under his shirt.

“I think,” he began, then shook his head. “It’s not clear…more like a dream.”

A thick fog settled in as the sun fell. They ate more of the crab, savoring the fresh meat. It was a welcome change from their diet of dried rations, and would help them to conserve their dwindling supplies. That was something they had to consider, with a longer journey ahead than they’d anticipated.

Malthooz awoke as a ray of sunlight burned through the fog and landed on his closed eyes. The brightness shining through his eyelids chased the sleep from his mind. Vadania tended a small fire. She’d taken the last watch. An earthy smell wafted from a kettle suspended over the blaze, hanging from a makeshift tripod of driftwood. She watched Malthooz rise and poured him a mug of brown tea.

“It’s not much to chew on,” she said, handing it to him, “but it will chase the chill from your bones.”

He took a drink. It was bitter, but not unpleasant.

“I remember now what happened yesterday,” he said.

The druid set her mug down.

“You were visited,” she said. It was not a question. She spoke as though she already knew what had happened to him. “I noticed the symbol back at the inn. I wasn’t sure you knew what it was at the time. I am now.”

He told her about the time he’d spent with the cleric and about the things he’d been taught, how he’d been told that he was chosen by Pelor and that it wasn’t really up to him one way or another. Vadania listened to his story, nodding occasionally but otherwise keeping quiet. When he was finished, they sat in silence for a few minutes.

Vadania finally spoke. “Your only choice now is whether you heed the calling or not.” She smiled. “It could be worse.”

“Could it?” Malthooz asked, looking into the empty mug in his hands.

The others soon rose. Camp was broken after a quick meal of leftover crabmeat. Malthooz was surprised by how much Krusk’s demeanor had changed since the previous evening.

“He almost appears to be looking forward to the journey,” Lidda remarked as she slung her crossbow across her shoulder.

“Yeah, but don’t ask him about his change of heart. You might upset him again,” Malthooz replied jokingly, though he kept his voice down.

“I don’t know,” the rogue responded, watching Krusk kick sand over the glowing embers from the fire. “I think he and the druid had some words last night.” She grinned. “Whatever she said, she finally got something through to the oaf. Nonetheless, we probably shouldn’t push it.”

The climb up to the top of the bluff took hours, but wasn’t overly difficult. The scene at the top was as the druid described. Blackened deer carcasses and piles of frayed bones littered the area. It didn’t look so much like a camp as the place where a pack of wild dogs had sheltered. Tattered bits of clothing were mixed in with the other trash.

“Poor bastard,” Krusk said, tossing aside the torn sleeve of a sailor’s jacket. Embroidery of gold and silver thread made a pattern of bars on the shoulder. “I doubt that death came swiftly for this unfortunate soul.”

“I don’t think we’re doing ourselves any favors hanging around here,” Lidda said. “We should move on. I’d like to be as far from here as possible by nightfall.”

“Yes, the neglect and disrespect pains my soul even more seeing it up close,” Vadania said.

Krusk set his boot down inside a large set of footprints. The depression dwarfed the half-orc’s foot by inches. Numerous sets of smaller prints ran alongside them. All pointed east, back into the forest.

“Not many people venture into the Deepwood this far north,” Vadania said, “even among the daring.”

Her words sent a shiver through Malthooz.

The druid led them along the trail. Mialee followed close behind her. Malthooz and Krusk walked behind the wizard and Lidda covered the rear, her crossbow drawn.

“Don’t you ever tire of keeping your guard like that, Lidda?” Mialee asked.

“I let my guard down once. I will never make that mistake again,” the rogue replied.

She lifted her leather armor, exposing a jagged scar on her abdomen.

Malthooz was learning that the rogue was not half so serious as she seemed most of the time. She had a quick wit and was not afraid to use it. Still, it was a bit unnerving the way she could change so quickly, not unlike Krusk. One minute she was joking and the next she was poised to kill. He realized how valuable that was in a profession where a moment’s hesitation meant death or imprisonment. Having spent only a matter of days with the woman, he considered her one of the few people to whom he would trust his life. But the same went for any of the others. Malthooz was beginning to understand how the life of adventure had drawn Krusk and how the bonds of camaraderie held them together. They might bicker during quiet times, but they would watch each others’ backs when it counted.

A chill wind swept south across the region as the day wore on and they followed the trail across the barren land. It was an inhospitable place, bordered by high mountain ranges to the north. To the south, open plains were just visible beyond the reaches of Deepwood. If the tracks kept straight on, they would enter the forest a half-day’s journey ahead.

Scrub yielded slowly to the woodlands. Stunted trees dotted the scenery and low, woody bushes became more frequent. It was not a pleasant place to be, and the isolation of the landscape was made even more oppressive by the evidence of their quarry’s passage. Shrubs were trampled flat. Saplings had been uprooted. The ground was mired with muddy snow. It was little consolation that the muck made the trail easy to follow. Even the few yellow flowers they saw poking up between mounds of slush did little to dispel the severe feel of the place.

The pursuers stopped at midday to rest and eat. Krusk badgered Vadania to look for something tastier than trail rations, but she wouldn’t do it, arguing that she would not further upset the balance of nature in the face of so much wanton destruction.