Totes's Solo Adventure

Ravik hears voices up ahead. He's been staying off the main road, so he shouldn't be seen, but he still moves even more carefully. He recalls Quinn's seemingly-simple detection spell. If Alva or her cronies possessed such magic, his wits would have to be even sharper than usual.

He crests a small hill, then looks down on a dell. And there sits Alva's Rest, the barrow where the Reaver was buried, only to rise again. He knows it instinctively.

Weathered, mossy pillars surround what look like stone steps leading down into the earth. Scattered torches illuminate the scene, but their light seems cold and unwelcoming. Alva's white-cloaked, bone-masked minions patrol the area, alert even at this hour. Ravik counts ten of them near the barrow.

On the road nearby is a cart pulled by two mules, seemingly heading towards the barrow. A scruffy older man and a teenager sit in it. They look similar enough to likely be father and son. The cart is laden with unknown goods. It's been stopped by two torch-wielding white-cloaks, and there appears to be an argument.

Sneaking closer, Ravik strains his ears to listen:

Man: "Damnable stubbornness! You make my mules look reasonable! You know me, Kirsk, and you know my son!"

Kirsk: "Your stubbornness is the issue, Fyodor. I've told you of Alva's decree. Step down and let us search your persons and the wagon. I won't ask again."

Son: "Listen to him, Dad!"

Fyodor grumbles more, but finally hops down, along with his son. The white-cloaks pat down both, then begin slowly examining the cart and its contents.

Fyodor: "Mind 'splaining what's goin' on? I've always done right by Alva! And now, to be treated like...like some skulking vermin?!"

Kirsk: "You have far too much pride for a man of your station. As for what's going on, I've told you: Alva is tightening the watch. Things are moving...events are happening...which concern her. We must be vigilant for trickery and subterfuge."

Fyodor: "Ah, is that so? I thought Alva was on top o' the world! Ready to march forth and conquer the entire Ironlands! What, has some dashing hero wielding a legendary sword appeared to thwart her?"

Kirsk: "Enough of your mockery. You demand respect, but don't give it. I don't know why our esteemed leader tolerates you."

Fyodor: "Sure ya do! Cuz me and my boy can find stuff no one else can!"

Kirsk: "True enough, I suppose. But one day you'll overstep, Fyodor...and lose that flapping tongue, if not your life. We're done here. You may pass."

Fyodor: "Thank you...Your Excellency!"

The two climb back onto the cart, then with a snap of the reins the mules begin moving towards the barrow. The two white-cloaks step to the edge of the road and whisper to each other.

Still watching, Ravik ponders what he'd heard.

Some corrupt trader or treasure-hunter, it appears. He must be useful indeed, to be allowed to travel to and from this barrow. I wonder what the cart contains? And why is Alva vexed? Has she learned I'm coming? I can't figure how...and I doubt the wight would be worried about a lone Ironsworn. Perhaps there are other forces working against her?

Ravik watches the cart move slowly down to the barrow. Once there, Fyodor, his companion/possible son, and a few white-cloaks begin unloading and carrying medium-sized baskets down the stone steps. Ravik still can't ascertain what's actually inside.

If the cart leaves anytime soon, I can waylay them on the road...make them talk....

But it's evidently not happening tonight, as Fyodor and his companion disappear into the barrow after the unloading is finished. Ravik waits about 30 minutes, then decides to set up camp for the night. The morning will surely bring more possibility.

He moves what he considers a safe distance from the barrow, slithers into a hollow log, and is soon asleep.

Morning comes. Thankfully, Ravik wasn't found by man or beast during the night. He crawls out from the log, stretches and yawns, then has a quick breakfast of the frostberries and rabbit meat he procured yesterday.

He then examines his surroundings in daylight. Much is similar: ten white-cloaks patrol the barrow, and Fyodor's cart remains. But instead of two white-cloaks guarding the road Fyodor used, only one remains...a person with a slighter build than the two seen last night.

A rookie, perhaps a teenager? Do I risk taking him? There's still a clear line of sight to the barrow...and other, unseen things may be watching the road....

Ravik decides not to risk waylaying the lone road guard. Instead, he moves stealthily around the barrow...looking, probing, thinking.

He eventually comes to an ancient, gnarled oak tree that seems...off. Walking around it carefully, Ravik steps in a rut near its base. Bending down and brushing away the leaves and twigs, Ravik discovers a stone tunnel, barely large enough to walk down. Unknown runes are carved into the stone near the entrance, and the air inside is cold and still.

A secret entrance to the barrow? It's unguarded, so it's possible even my foes don't know of it. Dare I walk in? It'll be a long ways to the barrow, the darkness will be complete, and there could be traps or other dangers.

Ravik walks a few yards into the tunnel, then throws several branches ahead, hoping to stir up anything that might harm him. But the tunnel remains still.

If this tunnel is truly unknown to them, I may be able to surprise and kill Alva, then escape relatively easily. But the best-laid plans often go astray. And walking down strange tunnels alone isn't my way. I need another plan....

Ravik paces back and forth, considering. Finally, he develops a plan.

First, he needs blood. He begins hunting, eventually finding two deer drinking from a watering hole. As with the rabbit yesterday, a poison dart kills one, though not without Ravik having to briefly chase it through the woods.

He drags the deer back to the tunnel entrance, then slices it open and drips its blood all over the tunnel, the tree, and the nearby ground. With a finger, he draws runes on the stone that match the ones already carved.

Once the area is sufficiently bloodied, he drags the deer a good distance away and covers it in leaves.

Now, to lead the white-cloaks to this scene....

Usually when he moved, he stepped carefully so he left few tracks. Now he deliberately makes impossible-to-miss tracks all around the tunnel, then leading towards where the nearest white-cloaks are patrolling.

Everything was ready....

Ravik now "throws" his voice, to make it sound like he's near the two patrolling white-cloaks, when actually he's well-hidden nearer to the tunnel. A standard trick learned by all Black Echo members.

The white-cloaks jolt to attention and rush into the woods. They instantly notice the tracks, and follow them swiftly, muttering to each other. Ravik follows at a stealthier pace.

They find the bloody tunnel easily. Talking loudly, they march about, poking their shortswords here and there in a frantic manner.

Cloak 1: "What the hells is this?!"

Cloak 2: "Why ask me?! Nobody's told me nothin' about some tunnel! Does it lead to the barrow, you think?"

Cloak 1: "Has to! Or...does it? Both o' us helped construct the barrow after Alva died, and I don't remember nothin' about this!"

Cloak 2: "We came in late, remember? Had to make that one village pay first. Maybe they'd already built stuff...a lot o' stuff...before we got here."

Cloak 1: "But why not tell us?!"

Cloak 2: "Cuz Alva probably wanted a secret escape route. Maybe she knew she was comin' back, and prepared. Or maybe this was made after she returned."

Cloak 1: "A lotta fuckin' questions, mate. And this blood...those scrawlings...someone's here, and they ain't friendly. We need to report this now."

Cloak 2: "No argument from me."

The two men rush away, and Ravik smirks. Psychological warfare. If he's lucky, Alva herself will come examine the scene, and he'll learn more about this dreadful Reaver.

Ravik doesn't have to wait long for someone to return. The two white-cloaks who found the tunnel are now accompanied by two more of their brethren...and Alva herself.

The wight is tall and thickly-built, her strides long and purposeful. A huge greatsword is strapped to her back. Ragged black hair extends down to her shoulders. Her death-mask is dull, perhaps even rusty...but even from a distance, Ravik can see ice-blue eyes peering out.

Most of her body is covered, with only part of her neck showing. That flesh is white and wrinkled from the corruption of undeath.

Nobody says anything as she slowly examines the scene. Even the forest seems stilled by her presence.

When she finally speaks, her voice itself is a force. Ravik can feel a cold hammer rattling in his skull.

Alva: "Someone did all this...and nobody noticed?"

Cloak 1: "We didn't even know this tunnel was here. Did you----"

Alva: "You didn't need to know that to hear such a commotion. Are you all getting lax in your duties? I've told everyone to be vigilant, have I not?"

Nobody answers. Finally, a white-cloak who'd come with Alva steps forward. From his bearing, it's obvious he's less intimidated than the others.

Cloak 3: "We were bound to attract skulking vermin eventually. We can unleash our best trackers, scour the countryside, find whoever's out there...unless you believe they entered the tunnel already...."

Alva: "If they did, they're already dead. Leave the opening uncovered, but inform everyone not to enter."

Cloak 2: "Does the tunnel lead to the barrow, Alva? Did you...did we...construct it?"

Alva: "Yes and yes. I will say no more."

Cloak 3: "...Fine. But what of this blood, those markings? Some sort of ritual? Maybe it actually helped them counter whatever dangers lurk in the tunnel?"

Alva: "No. I believe it's a distraction, nothing more. But conjecture is useless. You're correct: we need to make sure no foes are nearby. I will join the hunt myself."

This statement clearly disconcerts the white-cloaks. They become even more disconcerted when Alva removes her greatsword and points it straight up at the sky.

Alva: "Interlopers! Enemies! Destiny-deniers! Hear this: Alva the Reaver knows of your trespasses and plots! Best flee my land now, and never return...or I'll destroy you, body and soul!"

Again, her words hammer into Ravik's mind, and he finds himself shivering. So intense and damning is Alva's threat that he nearly flees right then and there. But after several deep breaths, and using the "mind-balancing" techniques taught by the Black Echo, he regains his composure.

Alva instructs the two original white-cloaks to guard the tunnel, and then marches back to the barrow.

The hunt is on...but Ravik Vett is no easy prey. Neither is Alva, clearly...but she's kept secrets from her followers. I need to use that to my advantage....

Creeping away, Ravik finds another vantage point that overlooks the barrow. He wants to see which direction Alva decides to go in. Ambushing and destroying her for good would hopefully end this terror.

Alva enters the barrow, then steps back out a few minutes later with a dangerous-looking group. Two "normal" human white-cloaks, two people who look like mystics, and a Varou. The Varou bares its teeth and sniffs the air, apparently eager for the hunt to begin.

Alva barks out orders, and several white-cloaks move in different directions. Alva and her group of five head due west, and soon disappear into the woods.

So Alva has dealings with the Firstborn? Or is that Varou in thrall to her? I must remember all my training. One mistake, and her warband will rip me apart.

Ravik loops around to follow Alva, moving at a pace that would infuriate most Ironsworn. But he's in no hurry. If it takes hours to catch up with the group, so be it.

He eventually hears a rustling noise ahead, but can see nothing. Hiding behind a pine tree, Ravik cautiously peers out.

It's the Varou, its curved dagger drawn, stalking through the forest. Occasionally a grunt or snarl escapes its lips.

You'll have to be stealthier than that to catch me, Firstborn....

"Dreko! Do not stray!"

Alva's voice. It sounds nearby, but that could be misleading; Alva may be able to "throw" her voice like him. From what he'd heard from her so far, she may be able to do many things with her voice that he couldn't.

The Varou grimaces, but begins heading towards the voice. Ravik draws out his dart gun and prepares to fire....

Ravik puts a moonbite dart in the dart gun. An unholy concoction that includes fermented human blood as one of its ingredients, moonbite doesn't paralyze, poison, or kill. Rather, if induces a rage and overwhelms the senses.

Against the Varou, Ravik reasons it'll be doubly effective. A rampaging Dreko could cause plenty of damage. The Firstborn may even be able to finish off Alva himself.

Of course, Ravik would have to ensure his rage-weapon is pointed in the right direction....

But as he aims the dart gun, he inadvertently steps on a twig. The Varou whirls in his direction, and the dart sails by! With a roar, the wolf-man rushes towards him with almost supernatural speed!

Cursing, Ravik is able to draw his daggers before the Varou overwhelms him.

He doesn't want to engage in a drawn-out battle, however. Perhaps he could wound his foe and slip away before the warband caught up.

Ravik manages to dodge the Varou's rapid attacks and counter with a deep slash to its forearm.

But Dreko seems hardly bothered. In fact, he attacks with even greater tenacity!

Again, Ravik dodges the dagger attacks...but doesn't see the low blow coming until it's too late. He doubles over in pain, and the Varou punishes him further with knee to the face!

Ravik doesn't think he can match the Varou's close-quarters ferocity. Rolling away from the fight, he quickly pulls out his whip.

With a crack, the whip digs into Dreko's face, possibly ruining his right eye!

But still the Varou charges!

A savage dagger-thrust cuts cruelly into Ravik's stomach! He can't even keep a good distance between them, so he can use his whip!

His vision swimming, Ravik barely manages to stumble away from Dreko's next finishing attack.

Is this...it? I should've let Quinn come...was a fool to think I could do this alone....

Fueled by desperation, Ravik again manages to jump away, and his whip cracks. With a yelp, the Varou drops its dagger...but not before again nearly slicing Ravik's throat open.

As if things weren't bad already, Ravik can see and hear others converging on the fight. He had to end this quickly, and escape...or be captured or killed, and fail in his vows.

Ravik dives for cover behind a tree to yet again get some space, then yells out:

"My daggers...are coated in poison. A rare one, known only to...a few. Kill me, and you surely die. Save me, and I'll give you...the antidote!"

The Varou snarls, but then responds in its guttural voice: "Feel no poison. Weak man tricksy! Can't best Dreko fairly!"

Ravik: "If you say so. Prepare to...meet your creator, then."

More snarls, but the Varou hasn't resumed his attack. Rage and confusion roil across it's wolf-like face. Can Ravik make use of this small advantage?

With a flip of his wrist, Ravik wraps the whip around one of the Varou's legs. Heaving with all his might, he then topples Dreko, who howls.

Ravik now dives in with his daggers, slashing at arteries, and ruining Dreko's other eye. After a few seconds, it's over. Dreko lets out a few pathetic snarls, then perishes.

But Ravik is critically injured himself, and his enemies advance on him swiftly. How will he get away?