[HQ Ignorance] Scene 12: The Mystic of Vustria

[Lev Lafayette]

On Windsday of Disoreder Week, in the Sea Season of
1622 Talor's fellowship left Fiesive in good spirits.
Aalmon felt that he had swayed Anzhur slightly from
his strict ways, whilst Anzhur himself, still confused
from his discoveries in the library of Fiesive, felt
somewhat at ease by Aalmon's illuminating words. In
his pouch he now carried a letter from the Archbishop
which was both welcoming and frightening. "You are
always welcome in our congregation", it concluded.
Ahh, but at what price, Anzhur mused. With a tainted
soul perhaps?

The fellowship caught up in a nearby village with
Torsten and Kalen, the latter whose new hammer handle
of fine wood and ironwire and leather bindings was an
impressive sight, although the use of the bones of his
brethren in the hands of the thing caused Icthya to
grimace somewhat. From there they set out almost
immediately to the hinterlands of Vustria. Within a
day the population had thinned significantly, as they
entered the hills.

This was a parched land, broken by sharp hills with
few inhabitants. The entire region, Torsten explained,
has barely one in twenty of the inhabitants of the
riverside Henotheist theocracy of Otkorion. A handful
of brave shepherds eke out a miserable existence in
these lands, alternating their profession with that of
banidtry or the madness of hermitage. Fortunately
Torsten seemed to know those who could be trusted, at
least on the first two days of the journey. In the eve
of the second night a great howling could be heard in
the distance; the shepherd and his family explained in
sombre tones that there was indeed a few Telmori in
the region and for that reason their cottage's doors
and windows were barred every Wildday.

On the eve of the third day the fellowship was deep in
the hills. Kalen claimed, and Torsten confirmed, that
the soil and rocks her were unlike any of those seem
elsewhere. Icthya, in a rare display of unity of
opinion with the stone creatures, opined a similar
effect with the vegetation. Common plants were rare;
unusual plants were common. Some she had never seen
before.

But as the fellowship debated this meaning, they were
come upon by a group of trolls. They were large and
hostile, and with the advantage of territory and
darkness set upon the group with a view to feast upon
their bones. Thinking quickly, Anzhur unfurled the Red
Banner of Valor, and lo! from its blend runes of Man
and Darkness and Arkat glowed. The trolls fell back in
awe, and Jareena spoke soothing words, advocating
diplomacy and negotiation. When Anzhur offered their
leader a newly minted bolg, the leader grew confused,
demanding where such an item was obtained. Anzhur
explained the circumstances of the bolgs, and the
troll slapped him heartily on the shoulder and called
him a true friend of the Darkmen. They inquired as the
the nature of their journey and offered to travel with
them to the Mystic of Vustria, sending trollkin scouts
in advance.

Over the next several days the trolls accompanied the
fellowship deep into the wilderness, happily engaging
with them. They spoke much of the might of Arkat
Chaosbane, who now inhabits Zorakarkat and the mighty
war that they would wage against Chaos, even hinting
that other members of Elder Races and humans may be
invited with the trolls to this mother of all wars.
Aalmon kept his thoughts to himself. The Darkmen were
simple beings, and he wouldn't want to confuse these
beings with tales of the Trolls of the Blue Moon.
Instead, he gazed at the Red Moon overhead; Donalari
looked on suspiciously.

Early that morning, a bedraggled and exhausted
trollkin stumbled into the campsite, one of the
messanger-scouts that had been sent out days before.
The trollkin, having run all night, said that the
Mystic was ready and waiting for Talor's Fellowship to
arrive, but there would also be others present - a
large band of Telmori. The troll leader approached the
Fellowship, informing them they would accompany them
no further; for if their quest was to see the Mystic,
fine and well. But if Telmori were present they would
have to slay them, as they were evil beings of Chaos;
thus it was best that they depart. Aalmon looked at
wonder at the sophistication of their decision.
Perhaps they were not such simple brutes after all.

Giving their tidings, the Fellowship continued on the
following day. At the moment of Yelm's descent, wolf
howls could be heard. As the night wore on, none could
sleep; the eyes of the beasts were illuminated by the
campfire and the howling became increasingly common.
The barking of Bors the Faithful Hound was only
matched in comparison with the howls of Karala's dire
wolf. At midnight, a middle-aged man with a staff,
filthy, dressed in rags, with matted hair walked
confidently into the campsite. With him a company of
wolves followed.

"I am the man they call the Mystic of Vustria", he
spoke to those assembled. "The Rune of the Beast form
is strongest in these lands. The land prepares itself
for the Hero Wars. It breathes, it moves, it stirs,
awaiting the time when it will burst forth. I speak to
it and it tells me of great plans it has, when the
arrogant civilisations destroy themselves."

"You are deep within its abode, foreigners. A little
trollkin told me of your approach and your desire to
speak to me. Well, I am here. Speak then. Tell me what
aid a mad hermit such as myself can give to those who
carry such trappings of 'civilisation'."

Wildday of Harmony Week, the 13th day of Sea Season,
1622.

Narrator's Hat On: I think it's Karala
Walks-With-The-Great-White-Wolf explains why she has
such a wolf with her, don't you? ;-)

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