Orc Cave

Erevain winces at the slap, then stills in shock. After a moment he gives an embarrassed mutter. "You can put me down now." Standing free of the spell, the elf moves to massage his rear, but then decides against it. "No." His voice is irritated. "No, the chains that bind me are intact."

He looks towards the entrance of the cave suddenly. "There was a devil watching us, invisible. It’s gone now." He curses in Orcish. "If Belhifet could not sense that Ilmadia’s pact was broken, he’ll certainly be informed by whatever spy that was." He raises a fine eyebrow toward Ilmadia. "Your ‘loyal’ familiar, perhaps?"

"Erestor gave me that armor as a gift, actually," Zenithral told Ilmadia. He tilts his head back and forth. "Then he later killed Erevain..."

...

"Belfeit's highest ranked officer is now free and on our side. While she may not have his power, we now have a much better idea of what we're up against. Everard is a devout priest, but torture and magic may lead to him giving up the secrets of the portal soon. We must rescue...him. We're up against ill odds, but we always have been. And we always make it through. Let us each do what we can to bring all we can to awareness and preparedness."
All Hit Dice Spent
HP 97/105 + 15 THP

Rested and restored, in the company of new friends and allies, Reòthadh feels more refreshed than he has been in a long time. Though the news Ilmadia brings is tremendous and terrible, he does not let fear dissuade him from what must be done. Seeing Hjolstedt and the barbarians, bags already packed and ready to leave, he approaches to make his plans known.

"A dwerf knows the ways o' the nomad. Been following Marthammor Duin's path fer some time now. If yer people are as worried for their own as you yerselves were, perhaps they can be convinced to stay true to the North and not follow some usurper's way."

Alalla nods at Reòthadh. "Good plan. Time is of the essence, but there is no point in charging the tower if an army will cut us down before we get there, or march on the Towns while we deal with the threat within. We will have to pray Everard will be supported by his god while we do what we must."

Al taps her glaive- safely resummoned- gently on the glass ground as the thinks. "Erevain, I think it would be better if you go to Keggruk's portion of the tribe, while I go to Morrugh. Halla, definitely send those messengers. Anyone in Kuldahar that can come will be needed. As for the Towns, tell them to march their militias on Easthaven. A good defence is offence in this case, I believe. Any information you can gather for us would be welcome, Arannis."

Frowning, Alalla gives a final thump. "I would prefer none of us go alone, but I'm not sure where you and your family are best suited, Zenithral."

Hjollsted nods and claps Reòthadh on his broad shoulder. "Yes! If these of the Tribe of the Wolf are convinced to abandon Jerrod’s cause, perhaps there is hope that the chiefs will also see the truth of things."

Reòthadh, Hjollsted, and the five berserkers leave.

Erevain nods. "Crossing the water will be difficult without Easthaven’s bridge - you remember the one. But I’ll make my way south to Good Mead and warn the people there if they haven’t fled already, and then try to find a boat to cross Redwaters." He hoists his travel pack. "If there are no vessels to be had, I will have to venture close to Easthaven and hope to find a narrow place to cross."

He plants a kiss on Alalla’s lips and gives the others a wave. "Farewell!"

"Be mindful of the roads. They are sure to be watched by the enemy! As I send my messages, I will see what can be spied from the air."

She whistles, and a minute later several small white-and-black birds settle on her arm. The druid settles down to give each of them some instructions.

Alalla looks to Arannis. "Will you go with him? That's the way we need the scouting done. He'll keep you clear of the orcs when it comes to it." She does her best to lower her resting stone face to one suitably meek for her request. "Please?"

Arannis’ face could be a scowl, or perhaps that is simply his own resting stone face. His eyes flick toward his family... but then he straightens his back and offers a nod. With his bow throw around his shoulder, the elf takes off after Erevain with long strides.

"Come back safe, sharuhk," Alalla calls out in orcish as the elves leave, then locks her anxiety firmly away.

"Anyone want to come with me? Zenithral?" Only a slight pause. "Ilmadia?"

Ilmadia raises a hand and opens her mouth to bid Arannis farewell as he leaves, but when he doesn't acknowledge her she yawns and rests a hand on the hilt of her sword as though that's what she intended all along.

She frowns slightly, the glances back at Halla, talking to her birds. "I am not opposed to leaving if the druid will be here for the twins," Ilmadia says at last, "but I will go where my son goes."

During the party's rest, Ilmadia's complexion has warmed, and some energy has returned to her. As she shoots a smile at Zenithral, he notices that even her eyes have changed, returning to the colour her remembers from his youth. She is truly free from Belhifet's chains.

"That is, unless he plans to stay with his wife, and objects. You and Halla are still honeymooning, I suppose." She throws a wink Zenithral's way.

Zenithral smiles. "We haven't done any honeymooning yet," Zenithral replies. "We'd rather enjoy that time either when the war's over or we're in the afterlife." He shrugs. "Preferably the former, but Arannis always said to plan for the worst."

"At any rate, I think I'll accompany Alalla," he looks to Halla for confirmation. "If trouble shows up, I'd be more of a burden than help here."

Ilmadia laughs. "Indeed he does! But how can you enjoy the good if you are always dwelling on the bad in the future as well as the past! You'll let it slip away. Erestor always says if something matters to you, you should grab it." Her laugh trails away.

"In any case, as your paladin said: Time is of the essence. Though," she brushes her armour, "Do you have a spare something to make me a little less recognizable?" Ilmadia eyes Alalla's snowy cloak coyly.

Al raises an eyebrow at the woman. "I've got something." She digs her old cloak from her pack and tosses it to the woman. "Ready? Off we go."

Zenithral winces at the mention of Erestor Of course...because that strategy worked out so well for him and you...

He gives his head a quick shake and clears his negative dwellings. He's genuinely happy to see Ilmadia in such good spirits. But perhaps there was something to be said about enjoying the journey. The sweetness of recent events certainly made some of the tortures of their past journeyings worthwhile.

Reòthadh and Hjollsted appear back in the orc cave, where the shaman wheezes on the floor.

Nearby, Halla sits cross-legged with several small birds on her arm. Her eyes are closed in concentration as she chants a ritual, but at the appearance of the two she cracks one eye open, then shuts it again.

Saki bends over a campfire, preparing some meal. It does not smell particularly appetizing.

Hjollsted looks up at a Reòthadh in awe. "How is it you have kept such vitality over the years, my friend? You seem even mightier than before being entombed in ice for centuries!"

Reòthadh looks to Hjollsted with concern. Careful to not invoke Halla’s fury, the dwarf calls for help to tend to Hjollsted’s wounds.

"One can only guess what strange magics have preserved this dwerf. A fool of a dwerf might suppose he’s living his last 300 years all at once."

Reòthadh attempts to take a short rest and then watch for the coming tribesmen.

Hjollsted chuckles at that, but then lies back to rest.

Saki samples the meal in her cooking pot, then shrugs and covers it with a lid. She walks over to Hjollsted and calmly rolls up her sleeves. "For serving the Lord of Battles, you seem to be on the losing side rather often." She begins tending to the old shaman’s wounds, first removing the javelins and then cleaning and bandaging the wounds.

The small woman nods her head towards the pot. "Have yourself some food, Reòthadh."