As the young woman leaves Zenithral notices a dim greenish glow emanating from the wood of her broom handle. It is different from the nefarious flame that Jhonen used to conjure, and Zenithral has witnessed enough druidic magic by now to recognize it at work here.
Kuldahar
As the young woman leaves Zenithral notices a dim greenish glow emanating from the wood of her broom handle. It is different from the nefarious flame that Jhonen used to conjure, and Zenithral has witnessed enough druidic magic by now to recognize it at work here.
The elf smiles warmly, then waves two figures into the room - two familiar if weary faces: Arannis and Saki, Zenithral's grandparents.
Arannis does not smile when he sees his grandson, but the older elf does straighten with pride. For all his reserved nature, his posture speaks to Zenithral like an approving clap on the shoulder. He reaches out a hand calloused from a half-millennium of archery, ready to clasp hands with the half-elf who has been like a son to him.
Still, Saki seems to carry herself easily enough. With steps too graceful to be considered hurried, she closes the distance between them and embraces Zenithral in a warm hug, a whispered prayer of thanks to Ilmater on her lips.
"Zenithral! How good it is to see you! You have grown since we saw you last." She pulls back long enough to poke him in the ribs with a slender finger. "Have you been eating well? Elf heritage or no, you're looking a little thin!"
Mirek releases the hilt of his sword with a frustrated grunt. "You're right. You're both right." He looks at the other hunters, and for a moment they all share an expression of shame. "Sorry about that. Of course you only have Kuldahar's best interests at heart. Life has just been hard lately. And this coming from folk who chose to eke out an existence in the middle of the Spine of the World!"
He raises his hands in a shrug. "We're just all worn down from the events of the last few months, and are doing the best we can with the tools we have."
Folding her arms across her chest, Alalla examines the men. They look sufficiently meek and apologetic. Maybe they'll be more compliant now. "Im sorry, but we're here now. And you must tell us what happened during the attack. Truthfully. Unbiased. What happened that night and where the twins have gone could mean a great difference to how my team and I will need to proceed."
Mirek takes a moment to calm down before continuing. "We found the twins in the Temple of Ilmater standing over Father Tulfyr's body. The girl was chanting something strange, working some kind of magic over the dwarf." The man bites his lip. "We attacked. Not to much effect. The fiends fled the Temple and disappeared into the night. We don't know where are."
He rubs his nose. "We took the Father's body as evidence - and also to keep it from being further desecrated. If you want to have a look, we can take you to where we hid it."
Just as frustration and sorrow threatens to well up, Alalla recalls the painted pillars of Trueheart. Torm had shown her many of his own failures, but despite them his victories are great. Her own failures were depicted on those same pillars. This is not her first, but she still had many successes to view. She will have more. She can make a difference. She straightens.
"We must find justice for the Father, and those children must be found and protected. If not for their well-being, then at least because they could be turned into powerful weapons in their father's hands."
Alalla turns to Reòthadh. "We need to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible. I still need to talk to my orcs, but I can manage on my own. Would you like to take these men and examine the Father's corpse?"
She is interrupted by a sudden embrace from Saki. The druid stiffens, unused to such affection from strangers. When Saki releases her, Arannis greets her with a respectful bow. Halla returns it with a simple nod that could never be mistaken for a curtsy.
Obviously out of her element, she looks at Zenithral for some help. "When you first left for Dorn's Deep I sent Saki a message about the twins." She holds a hand to the bridge of her nose. "You may wish to enlighten them as to all that has happened since... whenever it was you saw them last."
The older elf seems to steel himself. "Perhaps we should sit, Zenithral. If you have time to share your tale, that is."
Then she takes Halla by the hand and leads her to the same corner table that Halla and Natalie used earlier. Light conversation soon follows, though Halla looks somewhat like a wild animal caught in a trap.
The former cobbler looks at his hunters, judging their mood. "If the master dwarf wants to look the Father over, some of my men can take him there." He points at Kaleel and a handful of others. "Take Reothadh there if he wishes. The rest of us will accompany Alalla."
He turns his attention back to Alalla. "I hope you are right. About all of this."
One of them steps forward and calls out in rough Common. "You come close to camp. What want?" For general orc customs, Alalla finds this greeting extraordinarily polite. Perhaps Keggruk has indeed found some success in teaching the orcs here.
The blood hunters hardly seem encouraged, however. They keep their hands close to their weapons, squinting into the lengthening shadows.
He raises his spear - a nasty weapon with a barbed hook on the business end - and speaks in Orcish. "You do not match the description we were given of Thur'Kafaz. When Keggruk lay dying at your feet, for what did he beg?"
Alalla's eyes easily pick out the camp's details in the darkness. Mirek and the hunters squint, but from their sniffling and snuffling they seem to remain alert to their surroundings.
This camp is much larger than the last one. Where there might have been a few dozen orcs, mostly women, children, or those too young or too old to see combat, now there are several hundred - many of them fit fighting stock. Indeed, this would normally be an alarming number so close to a settled human town, but the majority of orcs are engaged in calm behavior.
Sitting. Talking. Staring up at the night sky. It is unusual behavior for the normally brutish and wild people.
A crowd grows with Alalla as the sentry leads her through the camp as curious orcs take note and follow. By the time she reaches Keggruk's tent, most of the camp is aware of her presence and watching closely.
"Welcome back, Alalla Thur'Kafaz!" All around the tent, orcs erupt into howls and cheers.