Thursday, January 2, 2020

Ghosts of Saltmarsh - Secrets and Lies part 3



Ghosts of Saltmarsh - Secrets and Lies part 3


Gerrin Copperhands - Dwarf Warrior
Ashtamit (Ash) - Druidess
Berren (Bear) - Wood Elf, Ranger
Oriane (Ory) - Thief
Coal - Raven
The Wicker Goat - Inn
Manistrad Copperlocks - Dwarf
Helfrid - Dwarf Miner
Tob - Dwarf Miner

"Misstress," Coal said into Ash's ear as he pearched on her shoulder, then began a quiet whisper in the language of ravens that only she could hear or understand.

"Movement," Ash said without turning her ear from the raven. "Something in the yard, in the bushes, near a well..., something in the house."

"Lovely," Ory muttered. 

"The bushes are near the gate," Ash told them, "to the left."

"Better leave Two-Ears here," Berren gestured to their donkey laden with gear but stoicly following behind.

The path leading up the rise to the house was steep.  The outer edge, to their right as they ascended, looked out over the sea and had only a narrow boarder lined with boulders and sizeable stones. To their left the terrain was rough with brambles, dirt and stone but generally flat and empty.

"Do you two," Gerrin spoke to their dwarven guides, Helfrid and Tob, "mind staying here?"

"And watching Two-Ears," added Ash.

A frown crossed Helfrid's face but Tob looked releaved. 

"We will stay," said Tob.

"Tob," Helfrid said in a reproving tone.

Tob looked Helfrid in the eye and repeated his words firmly. "We will stay."

"Good, Good," Gerrin then let out a friendly chuckle and clasped both dwarves on the shoulder. "You were to guide us," he told them. "Job done. This is ours," he nodded to the house, "watch over Two-Ears, maybe get a campfire going."

"Are we camping out here?" asked Helfrid looking around at the wall, the house, the desolate slope and cliff-plateau.

"I doubt we will need to weather the night here," Gerrin told them. He looked at the grey sky with dark angry clouds low overhead. It must be well before noon though there was no sun to see.

"I plan on sleeping in a clean bed tonight," Ory commented with no room for contradiction.

Tob almost smiled and Helfrid's frown disappeared.

"Unpack Two-Ears if you would," said Ash. She ran an affectionate hand over the donkey's head and he nudged her side with his nose. "We have a tent if you want to set it up."

Gerrin and the dwarves looked at the sky. 

"Might be a good idea," Gerrin told them. "Looks like rain.

***

"Bear hang back and keep us covered," Ory said to the wood elf.

He gave a nod and strung his longbow. Ash touched his shoulder and the two shared a tender kiss as she joined Gerrin and Ory moving toward the metal gates. Berren let them distance him by twenty or thirty feet before he started forward with a nocked arrow keeping it pointed toward the left of his companions.

Ory had walked beside them with a casual pace, but her stance changed completely as they approached the gate. She seemed smaller and indrawn but filled with a tense energy. A dagger appeared in her hand as if by magic its needle-tip and razor-edge before her as if testing the air before it could touch her.

Coal flew into the air once more while Ash opened small pouches on her vest. From the head of her staff a slight glow, green and gold, could be seen running across the carved vines at its head. Between Ory and Ash stalked Gerrin, broadshouldered, thick-armed, wide hands gripping his axe. His mail rippled like water as he moved as if it were made of flowing silk instead of ringed steal.

The gates were ajar, both pulled slightly from the metal bolts set in pillared ends of the stone wall. Ory approached them first, her knife gliding over them without touching, her eyes running across them looking for traps or wires or signs of devices magical or mundane. She passed between the pair, through the gap without touching either gate and motioned for her comapnions to follow.

***

Ash came next, just as wary as Ory had been of the delicately fashioned gates. She passed between the open wings and stopped an arm's length from behind the cautious thief. Gerrin followed.

Beyond the gate the path leading to the house was overgrown. The gravel drive, laid over the stone of the peak, was covered by clumps of moss and wild grass along its edges narrowing it by several feet on either side. The worn, broken or missing steps to the house were no more than forty feet away. To their right, and near to the front steps, was a covered well surrounded by waist high weeds and brambles. To both right and left there were the struggling wild remains of a garden, unharvested and choked with weeds. The wild rose bush was nearest to hand and dominated the wall to the right.

Ash swung her staff towards the bushes; she could feel the life within. Something, several somethings, large and feral, animal, fearful and aggresive both, hungry with a tinge of rage.

"Hold," she said quietly to her friends.

Ory and Gerrin froze in place while behind them Berrin stopped, not yet through the gate but his bow raised and his arrow ready.

Ash moved toward the bush and the rustling movement became frantic. The head of a weasel of giant proportions emerged from the thick green vines, then a second, a third, a fourth. The first weasal shouldered its way forward, larger and more aggresive than the three behind it.

"Dolas Mak," Ash exclaimed and gestured with her staff toward the creatures. 

Instantly the vines came alive and wrapped themselves around each beast. The leader spat and struggled, a deep whining growl and hiss becoming ever more loud frantic set the ears on all four companions to rise. Even Two-Ears, well outside the gate, raised her own in alarm, while Helfrid and Tob gripped their mining picks with a fearful grip. 

"Ba ya, Ba ya, Ba ya," Ash intoned softly and the struggling weasel ceased its motions and relaxed. With slow steps Ash approached the creature and gently touched its chin.

"Hava Bet," she said. "I am your friend," she told them.

"Yes, friend," repeated the ensorcelled weasel.

"No friend!  No friend!" shouted first one then the other smaller weasals.

"I say friend!" barked out the largest as it nuzzled Ash's hand. He turned and glared at his denmates and they subsided. They looked at Ash and one by one said. "Friend," there eyes lowered and their heads toward the ground.

With a gesture the tangling vines released them and in the language of weasals said, "Friend."


***


No comments:

Post a Comment

Generic messages by Anonymous users will be deleted.