Vulūne 12-18, 653 DR: The watchful eyes of the spirit horse. Notes in the dirt. Avoiding the locals. Into the Ancient Mounds. The remains of Grymgrykalya. The fate of an Ælyri patriot. Attack of the spirit riders. Into the heart of enemy territory. The outcasts tell a strange tale. Crossing the Shyl Molœrym. The markets of Nōyn Dag. A pivotal meeting for magician and wizards alike.

Continued from Battle of Eroewyl.

Bærídor, 12 Vulūne 653

Reaching the southern shore of the Shyl Eloe, the group reached a small road heading east. They stayed here for some time, watching commoners moving along the road with their wagons and herds. After a few lost watches, the group crossed the road and entered a small wood where they could rest and camp for the evening. Fyrgol explained that the Shyl Eloe emptied into a large bay to the east and that the bay’s coastline should ultimately take them to Nōyn Dag. Between their current location and the great City were the mysterious Ancient Mounds, which the Feyri (and most others) tended to avoid. Gældor had made a similar mention before leaving with the monks, explaining that the region was considered sacred to the Ælyryr. As they settled into their beds for the night, the ghost horse cast an eerie white glow from the edge of the campsite.

Virídor, 13 Vulūne 653

In the morning, the group gathered their things and set out east. Fyrgol wasn’t as familiar with the lands south of the Shyl Eloe, but he had a good idea where to go. They continued toward the coast, hoping to keep the Spirit Riders at their backs. Along the edges of woods and fields, the group was able to skirt farmsteads, mills, and villages on their way toward the Ancient Mounds. Toward the day’s end they pushed deeper into the woods so that they could make their first fire in days. The damp coastal chill was getting to everyone.

While people were eating around the small campfire, Jak began drawing in the dirt near their fire-ring. The others moved closer to see what he was scrawling, as did the ghost horse. Their glowing follower never pressed very close, so the drawings could be shielded by the backs of those circled around. They planned strategies. They drew maps. Fyrgol did his best to describe how far they were from the City of Nōyn Dag. Jak wondered what the ghost horse would do if the group split into two. This continued for a watch or more, with everyone furiously scratched the ground and rubbing their plans clear. The ghost horse stood ever-silent outside their circle with its ears turned forward.

Palídor, 14 Vulūne 653

In the morning, Fyrgol led them south toward a string of coastal villages. At one point the group waited as two young hunters made their way back to town after an early morning foray. Following a number of small hamlets, they skirted a lumbered region and then tuned inland into the deeper forests that surrounded the Ancient Mounds. Toward the day’s end, the group made camp at the base of a steeply sloping hillside. A number of the party left the camp to climb up through the large trees and heavy undergrowth to get a view of the countryside before the sun set. From the top of the mound, they could see the coast and the smoke from dozens of distant small chimneys through the trees. The trees in this area were very old, and reminded Jak and Tressta of the giants of the Nar Drūden. This forest had not been lumbered in many, many centuries. Gældor had said that the region was sacred, but did not say why. The day’s failing light set the clouds alight with colorful fire, before setting behind the inland hills and mountains. The group was deep within enemy lands without any friendly borders or towers as far as the eye could see. With less than a half-watch of light remaining, they began down the side of the high mound and regrouped with the camp below.

Alídor, 15 Vulūne 653

Tressta sat in the early morning dark, nodding off to sleep. Beside her, their Feyri companion kept cautious vigil, watching and listening to all the movements and sounds in the dark forest. Despite his vigilance, it was with some surprise that he noted the sound of singing through the trees. Fyrgol hopped from his seat and moved into the dark forest for a closer look. Soon, he found an Yrūn man wandering blindly through the forest, singing to himself. The man did not seem to notice the Feyri, but did stop for a conversation before continuing on his way. Fyrgol explained the spotting to Tressta, who’d become alert at the sound of the man’s voice. With synchronized shrugs, they decided it was not worth waking the rest of the camp.

In the morning, the camp was dismantled and the group continued deeper into the Ancient Mounds. By midday, the party found stone ruins of an ancient town or monastery atop a wide, bald mound. Gældor had noted that such a place would be found, and that they would meet again nearby. Fyrgol and Tressta went ahead to look for the meeting place, while the others waited in the ruins. Jak, Ērēus, and their captive watched with some interest as the ghost horse moved between the divided group, but eventually decided to stay with those at the ruins.

Within a watch or two, Fyrgol and Tressta emerged into another clearing. The smoke from a smoldering fire rose into the surrounding treetops. A closer look at the fire-ring revealed suspect remains that neither chose to inspect further. As they walked through the clearing, a figure stepped from the trees. Both Fyrgol and Tressta reached for their weapons before recognizing the pale shape of Dammon walking toward them. Dammon explained that the monks were dead and asked who among them had permitted the Spirit Rider Gældor to escort the monks, alone. Neither the Feyri or the Taládan had an answer for the magician. After an uncomfortable silence, Dammon led the others around the campsite and showed them the remains that he had found. The Spirit Dog named Grymgrykalya lay in the weeds, bloated beyond recognition except for his strange Ælyri markings. Dammon paused to explain that the Drāūnites seemed fond of flooding the bodies of their enemies, drowning their lungs and organs with the dark waters of their god. Each noted that Grymgrykalya must have been killed by the channeler-monk Baggar. Dammon showed them the gutted remains of Keléis (apparently slain by Gældor) and Margyna who’s body was savagely clawed to pieces (apparently by Grymgrykalya). Lastly, Dammon showed them the curled, withered, and trembling shape of a man stripped of clothes with a wild mane of gray hair. Pushing the hair aside with his staff, Dammon revealed the old man to Gældor. Though the aged Spirit Rider could barely speak, he managed to explain that Grymgrykalya had instructed him to destroy the monk invaders. Gældor had no idea which direction the priest had escaped. Too weak to crawl away, they left the Spirit Rider in the weeds and went to find the monks Dammon had met in his journeys. He introduced them to Teléek, Seúra, and Kalvan. After greetings and an explanation of what had happened here, the monks left to take care of the Spirit Rider that had killed their colleagues. The old Ælyri did not beg for mercy as he was dragged away, but called for his dog with a hoarse whisper.

The reunion complete, the three looked for some sign of the missing monk and wagon. Fyrgol found tracks leading south from south from the site. The wagon had not gone far, its horses were gone, but its cargo was intact. Dammon wove a spell that transformed him into a falcon, so that he could search for Baggar. When the monks returned from dealing with the Spirit Rider, Fyrgol and Tressta helped them load their dead onto the wagon, piling them around the unmoving boxes that were Graiç. The monks then pulled the wagon south through the woods until they found a stream by which to bury their dead. Fyrgol and Tressta helped as much as they could and then left to retrieve the others. The plan was to keep the monks and wagon a small distance ahead of the group so that the ghost horse wouldn’t see them.

Later that day, Dammon circled down to a campsite near the southern edge of the Ancient Mounds. There he spied Baggar sitting at fire with a number of others that did not look familiar. After listening for a while, the magician landed and changed back into Yrūn form. As he stepped into the firelight, the commoners startled. At once Dammon could see that these peasants were malnourished, dressed in rags, and their faces were scarred by pox. Dammon addressed Baggar in Dekàlic and explained that the others were heading this direction. Baggar related that the Ancient Mounds are filled with diseased people that had been banished from the surrounding villages and towns. The commoners seemed interested in Dammon’s affliction, but he understood none of their questions. After talking with Baggar some more, the magician changed back into a falcon and left to rejoin the monks.

Kændor, 16 Vulūne 653

Jak, Ērēus, Tressta, Fyrgol, Zêla, Zildara and their prisoner reached the clearing in early morning. As they stopped to inspect the site, they noticed movement in the nearby woods. Jak notices several figures standing in the surrounding trees including a second ghost horse that fades from view. As the group started moving, they were met with the sound of bowstrings as arrows whistled around them. Fyrgol yelped as one of the arrows burrowed through a leather vambrace into his arm. Zildara stopped to heal him, but her spell failed. Another arrow found Jak’s leg, but broke against his armor. Tressta jumped behind a tree and Fyrgol blended into the vegetation as he ripped the arrow from his arm. Ērēus charged a nearby archer, pushing aside briars and weeds with his shield as he moved. Zildara followed closely in his wake. Fyrgol moved quietly toward another, but stopped short as a ghost horse materialized before him. Jak and Tressta charged a third archer. Ērēus groaned as an arrow sank into his leg. Fyrgol drew Skaeldythoel and cut deeply into the horse’s leg. The horse’s eerie scream filled the woods, causing all the archers no small amount of worry. A spirit had been wounded! Fyrgol hacked at the horse’s leg until the thing faded away. As the others continued to dispatch their ambushers, Fyrgol charged toward a gray horse with white markings, standing in the distance. The Feyri closed with the horse, his blade at the ready. The animal looked confusedly at Fyrgol and then started to graze. Fyrgol tried “speaking” to the horse, but it only responded that it was very hungry and unsure how it had come to this place. After a few minutes, the Feyri led the horse back to the group and explained that with the dismissal of the spirit, the horse seemed normal. After looting the dead archers, the bound body of Calyedin was thrown onto the horse’s back and led south.

After half-a-day’s walk, the group reached the wagon, Dammon, and the monks. By late evening, the magician was able to lead them to Baggar’s camp. Jak showed his reversed hands to Baggar, but the monk said that it wasn’t an injury, and he could do nothing about it. The monk went on to suggest that perhaps the monks at Kirít Nalam might know something about Chaos magics, or perhaps a master of Vīsìktrū could be found. The reunited group camped again that night, and again it rained.

Malídor, 17 Vulūne 653

The group moved south through the Ancient Mounds on the following day. It was rainy and wet ground made pulling the wagon more difficult. Toward the late afternoon the group came to a river bank. On the far side were farms and villages as far as one could see. A road followed the north river bank to what appeared to be a large city on the coast. The monks explained that the city was Nōyn Dag and that their ship lie beyond the capital, in a smaller town. At the proper time, the party moved onto the road and did their best to blend with the traffic coming to and from the city. Their prisoner remained quiet within a rolled bearskin on the back of the horse. As they walked through the rain, the monks conversed more with the diseased peasants that Baggar had met. They learned that the peasants had left their colonies because they were being preyed upon, captured, and taken as slaves or worse. They preferred whatever opportunities they might find in the forests rather than being rounded up like cattle on the shore.

Amdor, 18 Vulūne 653

After a night outside a largish town, the group gave the peasants the extra horses and sent them away. Calyedin was bound, gagged, and hidden among the wagon’s supplies. The group returned to the road and made a final approach to the grand stone bridge that crossed the Shyl Molœrym to Nōyn Dag. The bridge had several spans, each marked by a statue of some local hero, noble, or priest. Both ends of the bridge were flanked by giant stone statues of horses raised upon their back legs. Between these statues, Fyrgol saw a similar ghostly shape, watching the bridge traffic as the rain fell through it. The group steered the wagon onto the bridge and passed the sentry unnoticed.

As the city came into closer view through the rain and the gloom, the travelers marveled at its strange architecture. Once across the Molœrym Bridge it became apparent that they would have no trouble blending in. The city was bustling with merchants from three different continents, and more races than they’d seen in any one location before. At one point, Jak stopped to stare at an Eylfāe in full armor giving orders to members of his entourage. If the Eylfāe noticed Jak, it made no indication. In the first marketplace Tressta stopped to purchase some fresh food, being increasingly unsatisfied with trail rations. To no one’s surprise, Dammon claimed that he had business to take care of in the city and ventured off alone. Fyrgol climbed onto the wagon, fearing he’d get stepped on.

In the most remote alley he could find, the magician changed into a falcon and flew above the city. Circling out over the wide harbor of Nōyn Dag, he quickly identified the ship he was looking for by the seal of Drūn Ilar. After looking around some, he landed upon the ship’s pier and resumed Yrūn form. The pier’s attendant seemed remarkable unfazed by this event, but became uneasy as the chalky magician neared. Dammon introduced himself as an associate of Halgræ. After inquiring within the ship, the attendant led Dammon into the ship’s fore-cabin where he met an old man dressed in blue robes and adorned with exotic seashells. The man introduced himself as Gezen, wizard of Tahl. After a lengthy conversation regarding Chaos magic, Dammon permitted the man to “look closer”. Looking closely at his visitor, the man adjusted his glasses and rubbed his chin. “There are two of you”, he said. Dammon explained some of his past as the man listened and nodded. Finally the man cast a small Weaving which closed the cabin door. “Now we are alone,” Gezen added. Dammon could sense the frustration of his conscience somewhere near. Gezen continued, “You have two spirits, one older, one younger. I do not know what would happen if one were removed. If you cannot accompany us to Tahl, perhaps you can find your own way there in the future. My associates and I would be most interested in your conditions.”

Continued in The Nōyn Dag Horror.

Characters

• Dammon Shroudson = 3 CPs (234)
• Fyrgol = 3+1 CPs (158)
• Jak of Cænden = 3 CPs (227)
• Tressta Drynsval = 3 CPs (220)
• Baggar of Ealyma (Monk)
• Calyedin of Moreun
• Ērēus of Amra = 1 CPs (310)
• Familiar = Unkn.
• Gezen of Tahl (Wizard)
• Gældor of Nyn = 3+1 CPs (171): killed
• Graiç of Mazzam = 0 CPs
• Grymgrykalya = 2 CPs (80): killed
• Kalvan of Ealyma (Monk)
• Keléis of Ealyma (Monk): killed
• Margyna of Ealyma (Monk): killed
• Seúra of Ealyma (Monk)
• Teléek of Ealyma (Monk)
• Zêla ma Ler = 1 CPs (172)
• Zildara of Zalan = 1+1 CPs (203)

Played: 02 Feb 2008