Drûr 19 – Aldrùan 1, 653 DR: The Doomed Way. The freezing winds of Ilûwyr. Chained spirits. The great monster and Jak’s mangled leg. Retreat and healing. The spirits’ interest in Ērēus. The ax man. Choosing the right fork. Pursuit of the murderous Jargul. A horseman. Battle-weary, hungry, and doomed. The Village of Nyl. The welcome committee.

Continued from Bane of the Unseen Hunters.

Wōdìndor, 19 Drûr 653

Before advancing far into the barren land, their hands and faces began to sting from particles of sand and stone propelled through the air on freezing winds. The group stopped to don their leather wraps and green-glass goggles before continuing. After equipping themselves, they continued down the well-traveled path which had been a highway at some point in the distant past. The road’s edges were lined with hewn stone and shored-up by stonelayers centuries ago when the lands below were a picturesque canvas of verdant rolling hills, forests, lakes, and rivers. Now a lifeless wasteland lay before them, stark evidence of one of the most infamous campaigns ever waged across the face of Teréth End. A rust orange sky hung above the land, so thick with dust that it was impossible to locate the waning sun. Streams that once fed the rivers below now waited in abbreviated frozen channels, their empty creek-beds almost scoured smooth from the mountainsides. Most disturbing were the roving tornadoes that prowled the landscape below, eternally searching every crevice and cavity for some hidden place that had escaped centuries of erasure. This was the victory of the Eylfāe-Acèntyran campaign, the mortal wound that signaled the end of Dekàlan tyranny.

After some hours, they had exited the pass and followed the road south along the slope of Mor Varæyn. At day’s end they came to a peculiar ring of stones beside the road. Petrified rivulets of ice streamed down the eastern slope, pouring into culverts beneath the road. On the lower slope, empty creek beds continued into the lands below. The area was level and there was evidence of many campsites beside the road. Despite a number of abandoned fire rings, there was no wood to be found. The group unrolled their bedding and spent a cold but uneventful night near the circle.

Iyldor, 20 Drûr 653

On the following day, they continued along the descending road. The Crescent Desert stretching out below and to the right of them. After a couple hours’ march, they found a large red pillar covered in old carvings. Fyrgol stopped the group. Looking closer, Fyrgol described what only he could see. The base of the column was surrounded by a group of Yrūn prisoners: men, women, and children. They appeared not only to be bound and gagged, but missing eyes and tongues. Dammon tried to see the spirits, but could detect nothing. Instead he examined the old writings. The top of the pillar seemed to be carved in Middle Acèntyran while the base was carved in Ildûnic. It was hard to make out the bottom carvings except for the words: place, murder, family, destruction, people, enemy, payment. As Fyrgol drew nearer he explained that the spirits appeared to separated into four or five families. The blinded figures all seemed to be breathing and listening attentively to the group’s actions. Unable to determine more, the group began moving by the pillar. As Ērēus passed one of the figures stood and strained against its chains. Fyrgol explained that the figure was trying to talk but no sound issued from its mouth. Unable to see anything that Fyrgol described, Jak moved away from the stone, but as he did so he was struck by a strong scent coming from beyond the road’s edge. Jak warned everyone that something was near. Dammon’s Conscious reported nothing at first, then confirmed Jak’s alert explaining that something was scrabbling up the rocky cliff. Everyone drew their weapons and braced for an assault. They did not wait long.

The beast that climbed up over the edge was monstrous. Its body was shaped like a bison, the front half of the thing bristling with shimmering scales, large curved horns grew from its head, and instead of hooves its forelegs ended in large claws that bit into the rock. A foul-smelling cloud billowed from its mouth and nostrils as it pawed at the ground with a rear hoof, setting to charge. Dammon began Weaving a spell. Fyrgol attempted to parley. The monster rushed across the road toward Jak with an almost effortless speed, as if the thing were weightless. Jak dodged to one side and the thing crashed into the mountainside, showering the path with a hail of broken rocks and ice shards. Jak wheeled around and drove his spear into the thing, slipping the lethal spearhead between its scales. Tressta raced forward with Tyv Tulm and stabbed at the thing’s back. Ērēus followed with another attack, sinking his sword deep into the monster’s side. The monster howled, baring teeth the size of daggers. It spun around and sank its teeth into Jak’s leg. Dammon removed himself from the melee, forming a crackling ball of lightning in his cupped hands. Tressta and Ērēus stabbed at the thing again. Fyrgol unleashed an arrow. Though shaken by the grievous wound, Jak pulled free of the monster’s bite. It snapped at him again but the Oðan was able to hop aside, and stab at the thing once more with his spear. The spearhead sank into the monster’s eye and it howled again, gagging everyone with its fetid breath. Tressta and Ērēus continued stabbing the thing. As Fyrgol nocked his next arrow, he could see the phantom shapes around the pillar standing and straining against their fetters. Again the monster lunged at Jak, and again the spear-man managed to dodge. Everywhere the thing turned, spear, swords, and arrows sank into its hide. The longer it fought the more it struggled and the slower it became, until finally Fyrgol drew Skaeldythoel and ended the monster’s life. The spell Dammon had been summoning faded into the air. Jak sank to the ground near Zêla so she could examined his mangled leg. Fyrgol turned toward the pillar and saw all the shadowy family figures dropping to their knees. With Jak unable to walk, it was decided to skin the beast and use its hide to transport Jak to the previous camp. As they cut into the monster’s body they found its insides were black and dry. After removing the hide and the horns, Ērēus, Tressta, and Fyrgol pushed the thing over the side and watched for most of a minute as the giant carcass fell, bounced, and rolled into the valley far below. As they prepared to leave, Fyrgol noted that the shadowy figures seemed very intent on Ērēus, but he said nothing. As they returned, Dammon Conscience assured his master that the monster was not familiar.

Turning back the way they’d come, the group dragged Jak up the road to the campsite they’d used the night before. There they set-up their camp and Zêla began playing Mojh, shielding the zither from the wind and debris as best she could.

Irídor, 21 Drûr 653

A day of convalescing.

Roydor, 22 Drûr 653

On the second day of rest the group noticed a figure wrapped in the customary leather and goggles shuffling north along the road. As the traveler drew closer they could see that he carried a large ax in his left gauntlet. Jak and Tressta hailed the man but only received a garbled response, in a language that may have been Trade. When that proved unsucessful, Fyrgol cast a translation Weaving and was able to glean some basic things. The man was traveling away from Nyl toward “civilized lands”. He mentioned that a month was long enough in that place. When Fyrgol responded that Nyl was their destination the man said nothing more, took a few cautious steps backward, and continued toward the pass.

Later in the day, Dammon consulted with his familiar and learned that the area was littered with bodies, though none recently alive.

Sūdìdor, 23 Drûr 653

The next day Jak insisted he was well enough to travel and the group continued south. As they walked by the red pillar, Fyrgol watched the ghostly figures wrestling with their invisible fetters, straining to get Ērēus’ attention as he passed. The Feyri could guess at no connection between the two, though it was obvious that there was something special about Jak’s soldier. Fyrgol began to watch Ērēus more closely. At the day’s end they made a simple camp and fell asleep to the sound of the freezing winds.

Talídor, 24 Drûr 653

In the morning, Dammon transformed into a bird to get a higher vantage of their surroundings. The strong, stinging winds buffeted him around but he managed to get a good view of the road ahead. It appeared that the tornadoes that they’d been watching below, rarely crept up the mountain slopes. Returning to the camp he reported no monsters or dust storms lying in wait ahead, that he could see. The road appeared to descend slowly along the mountainside, meandering off for many days to the south. The magician pulled his outfit together and filed into marching order, fighters positioned fore and aft. Later in the morning they found an overturned wagon, its horses had been cut loose and its contents were mostly bare. Tressta picked through what little remained and found some interesting textiles that had been buried in a crate.

The winds worsened as they continued down the mountain road. At times the blowing dirt and debris obscured their path, forcing them to stop and wait for the cloud to pass. Though the conditions hampered their movement, they made good progress and found another camping spot by day’s end. A wide shelf along the road contained a number of abandoned fire pits, weather-worn hitching stones, and a small stone basin built into the mountain with a sheltered spout that probably produced clean spring water once upon a time. Setting up camp away from the road’s edge offered some protection against the wind. There was no escape however from the cold.

Padídor, 25 Drûr 653

The weather was no better the next day. Struggling against the wind and the numbing cold, the group pushed south along the ridge. The twisters that scoured the lower landscape seemed closer now, blindly roaming the slopes below as if they could smell the blood of travelers. By evening, the weary hikers came to a fork in the road. The left tributary wandered back into a canyon, quickly disappearing behind sheer canyon walls. Dammon transformed again into a large bird and scouted ahead. The fork wound back into the mountains, ending in a large, sad looking building at the rear of the canyon. The stone building was several stories with hundreds of empty windows. The center and top floors had collapsed under the weight of an avalanche that gave the structure a melancholy appearance. Outside the canyon, the main road continued as before with no end in sight. Dammon returned to the group and told some of his findings. Remembering the warning not to stray from the road, they continued along the main route.

That evening the group found a cluster of round stone huts. Each wayside hut had a fire-pit in its center, but there was no wood to be found. Despite this, it was a relief to sleep in a real shelter. The wind howled outside all night long, but inside the group slept well.

Bærídor, 26 Drûr 653

After a decent night’s rest, they headed south again in the morning. Within a couple hours their descent ended and the road continued levelly. By midday they saw another group heading north. The group of six were wrapped in the customary leather and goggles and brandished swords in their gauntlets. Both groups moved cautiously to opposite sides of the road. While passing a member of the anonymous group yelled something. Both groups stopped. Fyrgol translated the second comment as a question, asking whether they’d seen a swordsman come this way. Fyrgol explained that they’d met a swordsman seven or eight days before in the Doomed Way but that they knew not where he was heading. One of the anonymous travelers spoke next, explaining that his name was Jargul and that he was a very dangerous man. He added that Jargul had murdered many people in Nyl. The group of swordsmen thanked the party for the information and continued north.

That evening the group found another traveler’s hut. That night, the muted green glow of Mamra could be seen through the cloudy night sky.

Virídor, 27 Drûr 653

While preparing for the day’s journey, the group heard hoofbeats along the road. Stepping out of the wayside shelter, they watched a horseman galloping north from the direction of Nyl. The rider was dressed in the normal fashion, but the horse’s barding and goggles were something the group had never seen before. As the horse passed they could see that the steed was also laden with many sacks tethered to the saddle and rear. The horseman gave no indication that he saw the group. The horse and rider galloped by and were soon out of sight.

Soon the group was back on the road, hoping that their destination was near. That night, somewhere above the dark night sky, Mamra shown fully on the world.

Palídor, 28 Drûr 653

On the last day of Drûr, the road turned away from the ridge. Another group passed but said nothing. The road continued west atop a lower ridge, with the lowlands stretching out below them to either side. The winds were much stronger here and their progress slowed to a crawl. Dammon assured everyone that if the folio was to be believed, the village lay at the end of this ridge. That evening, the group came to a large travelers’ building, the last wayside outside of Nyl. Relieved to escape the wind, the group pushed inside to find others camped within. The others viewed the group cautiously, and with good reason. They had shed their leather and goggles, and were busy bandaging open wounds suffered from a recent combat. A few fumbled for weapons, but others were too exhausted or injured to respond. As the group settled across the large room from the injured party, Fyrgol crossed the room to learn what he could. As he neared, one of the members drew a sword and took a defensive stance. Fyrgol stepped back, noticing that the man’s sword was dripping with a vile ichor. After easing the man’s nerves, Fyrgol asked what had happened to them. The man spoke of rampant Neðérim and Undying throughout Ilûwyr. He did not explain what they were doing there or where they were going.

Later that evening, a woman from the other group made her way across the room and begged for food. Ērēus and others scrounged what little they could from their rations, but there wasn’t much to spare. They’d been warned that food could be scarce in Nyl and had only planned for their own journey. The woman was thankful for the what they could provide. Any group this far into Ilûwyr without rations was doomed. The frigid night passed uneventfully.

Alídor, 1 Aldrùan 653

By midday of the first day of winter, the road came to an end. The Village of Nyl crouched upon a large promontory overlooking the Crescent Desert sprawled across the foothills and plains far below. The mountain road rose to an ancient stone gate, part of a long wall that encircled the compound. To either side of the village fortress, towers rose from precarious perches atop the promontory’s edge. From these towers, iron cranes swung over the gulf, slender chains hanging from their arms, swaying like threads in the wind. The numb and weary group climbed the incline to the front gate and passed through the heavy gates. The debris packed around and beneath the great doors ensured that the gates had not been budged in a long time. As they walked between the shuttered buildings toward the center, Dammon explained that Nyl had once been the last Dekàlan outpost for families escaping western Ilûwyr. “At another time”, he continued, “Nyl was a sportsmen’s outpost, home to a number of exclusive hunting lodges.” Every door and window was closed against the cold and wind. Larger buildings crowded around the central courtyard. This was the first place they saw activity. People ran back and forth between the larger central buildings, opening and closing doors as quickly as possible. As the group came neared the courtyard well, a lodge door opened and a small group emerged.

Continued in Village on the Edge of Death.

Characters

• Dammon Shroudson = 3 CPs (245)
• Fyrgol = 3+1 CPs (175)
• Jak of Cænden = 3 CPs (242)
• Tressta Drynsval = 3 CPs (235)
• Ērēus of Amra = 1 CPs (315)
• Familiar = Unkn.
• Zêla ma Ler = 1 CPs (178)

Played: 21 Aug 2009