Arachne's impromptu game of tag brought her and Pug practically face to face with the other people on the road. As coincidence would have it, these people were some of the same that the group had met last time they had traveled this road. Some among the group recognized the two farmers that had attempted to help with the bandit skirmish on the road days earlier. There were two other men, three women, and an assortment of children of various ages with the two wagons. The wagons were filled to the brim with an assortment of farm equipment and household furniture. In addition to the horses and mules pulling the wagons, there were two goats, a cow, and even a few chickens among the group.
One of the men they recognized shooed a small child into the already packed wagons as he looked at the gnomes and the rest of the group with a mixture of anger and fear on his face. He looked at Arachne uncertainly, "If this be another ploy, ye'll find that I won't be taken unawares this time. If ye harm my wife or my boy, I'll come back from my grave to haunt you if I have to, I will." Both wagons had come to a standstill, and the women gathered their broods of children into or behind the wagons, out of sight as much as possible.
The ranger was reminded of innocent youth as he ran after the short gnome and laughed but the farmer's expression reminded him of reality and he stopped, not moving for his weapons but ready for another possible attack.
"Of course it was a ploy," Arachne admitted. "It was a ploy to get unarmed me out here in front of all my weaponed friends and hopefully get a best chance of courteous conversation with you instead of a fight. I didn't know, when I came running out, that we'd met before, but it doesn't really change anything about the ploy or its extent. I still regret -- I think we all regret -- what happened before. I'd still rather that we parted from you respectfully. Certes, we have no intent of obstructing your progress. But I would like to know, since it's now midsummer and thus, an awkward moment to be abandoning a farm... Have you any more immediate cause for quitting the place than the gradually increased soddenness of the ground? Have you met with any sharper threat than your fields' advancing failure? Do other strangers -- _besides_ us -- lurk around your quarters? Were you seeing or hearing anything unsettling?"
The child that had been put in the wagon stuck his head back out, "Barb told me her brother saw blue monsters 'round the Patchwork Hills!" His father gave him a look that quickly sent him scurrying back into hiding.
Azrun listened to Arachne as she chewed out the farmer, quietly. He then turned his attention to the the woman on the horse.
The other three men watched the group warily. One of them spoke up at Arachne's question about their destination, "Where else would we go but to Milborne. My land's flooded out. I lost all my crops. All I can do is sell what equipment I can and look for another way to feed my family. Maybe Kuiper or Krynen'll have work for me and my hands. Otherwise I don't know what we'll do," the older man sighed heavily. He seemed much less concerned about the threat of attack than did his three farmhands.
"But all of a sudden?" Arachne protested.
The older farmer gave Arachne an exasperated look, "No, it's not all of a sudden. The crops I planted in the spring got root rot and died. I lost my pasture land last year so I've already sold off my stock. If we go now, we might be able to get work on one of the other farms and get a full season's pay for it. If we wait until harvest, we'll only get what the gleaners get. There's nothing to salvage at my farm, little lady, nothing else for us to do there."
"Well, perhaps," she allowed. "Would you mind if we visited your farm? Or even camped there?"
"Go ahead, stay out of the main house though. Me and Elden are going back later to get the rest of our belongings." One of the other hands started to protest but decided to hold his peace.
As the men continued to watch the group, a dark-haired woman on horseback approached from the direction of Milborne.
Maisar noticing the farmers, and with a lone ridr approaching, moves to the side of the road (opposite the farmers), and leans on his quarter staff.
"Trouble travels in threes," Kaileer muttered in elvish as he unshouldered his bow and scanned the area for anything suspicious, walking off the road away from the group to hear better. The fact that he was holding a weapon also meant he probably wouldn't have to speak with angry humans.
Aloysius watched silently (GASP!!!!!) as the men spoke to Pug and Arachne. Recalling that Azrun was primarily in charge of talking to strangers, he focused his attention on the woman riding towards them from the opposite direction. "Have a care, Galaret," he said as he moved over in front of the priestess. "Anyone bold enough to ride alone on this road may bear tidings ill." Keeping himself between Gala and the oncoming rider, Aloysius drew two daggers and waited to see what the rider was going to do.
Azrun watched the mage as he pulled his daggers and he shook his head, "Apparently, you didn't learn from your previous mistakes with the farmers. She would be fool-hearty to attack a party and a bunch of farmers. Put your blades away. It's no wonder the farmers don't trust any of us."
Gala smiled at him. "Aloysius, best to wait and see if she's hostile before drawing your weapons. I thank you for your protection though. It is surely good to have such friends as you."
Still reeling from their earlier exchange, Aloysius simply looked down at the daggers in his hands, and then back at Gala. After reflecting for a moment, the magic-user put his daggers back into his bandolier.
The dark-haired woman slowed her horse to a stop well out of range of any swords. She wore chain mail armor and had a sword at her waist and a mace strapped on to the saddle. Her hands held only the reins of her horse. "Hello," she said cheerily. "Mind not waving those daggers around, or pointing that bow in my direction? Makes me nervous." She smiled and waited to see how the folks waving their weapons around would react.
"Huh?" Arachne exclaimed, looking around from her conversation with the farmers. "What daggers? I -- Oh." Sighting what Aloysius was holding, she sighed. "Never mind. I get it."
Aloysius looked at the rider, then back at Gala, then back at the rider. He then turned and saw the suspicious expressions of the farmers. He habitually reached up to stroke his razor stubble, only to discover that he had shaved it off. As he surveyed the area, he noted Kaileer on one side of the road holding his bow, Maisar on the other leaning on his staff, and Azrun handing out money to the farmers. The magic-user turned back to Gala, shrugged, and then sat down on the side of the road. Slowly, his lips began to curl upwards in an extreme grin that surely had to cause him pain to maintain for any length of time.
Aloysius looked at Azrun cooly. "Mayhap I'll just wait until she kills someone, and then draw my blades. Aye! An excellent notion! As for my earlier 'mistake' with the farmers . . . .that probably saved their lives. If dead I'd wished them , then dead they'd be."
Azrun's eyes narrowed for a moment, "Let's think about this for a moment, smiley. There are seven of us plus a few farmers. Wait, I take that back. The farmers won't help us for fear of being attacked by smiling mages. So that's still seven. If she can take all of us out before the we can get to her, I really don't think those daggers are going to matter." Azrun shook his head as he turned away from the mage and walked over to the farmer.
Aloysius watched Azrun as he walked back towards the farmers. "Hmmmph . . . ." grunted the magic-user as he turned back towards Gala. His look of annoyance was soon replaced by one of curiosity. "Galaret," he asked, "who be this 'Smiley'?"
"I think Azrun is meaning you." said Gala, a small frown creasing her face for a moment. "I'm not sure why he calls you that though. Who knows with bards? Most of the ones I have known are carefree cheerful souls; this Azrun seems to have more cares upon his shoulders. I wouldn't worry about it if I were you."
Azrun turned away from the mage and walked over to the farmer. He pulled his money pouch from his belt and handed it to the farmer, "It's not much, sir, but it should keep your bellies full for a couple days. I apologize for any troubles that me and my companions have caused you. I hope you don't believe us responsible for your recent troubles and if there is something we can do to help you reclaim your land, I'll gladly try." He extended his hand in friendship to the farmer.
The farmer raised an eyebrow at Azrun and tenatively shook his hand. "Why would we think you responsible for the trouble with the land. The Mire's been growing for two years, and I never set eyes on you before today." He didn't take Azrun's purse and neither did any of the others.
Azrun replied to the farmer, "I'm sorry, sir. I thought all of this had happened recently. As far as the money goes, it's not charity. Look at it as a gift from a farmer's son to another farmer. I know what's it like to have things get tough on you and yours. You don't have to spend it. Just hold on to it in case you need it. If you don't, you can give it back to me when I come back this way again." Azrun was very sincere with his request.
The farmer shook his head, "I ain't taking your money. We can get by on our own." The farmhands just glared at the group. One of them slapped a mule on the rump to get the wagons moving again, "Let's get going. We got a lot o'road ahead of us."
Azrun looked disappointed and sad at the same time, "Well, sir I hope you find better times on the road ahead of you." Azrun watched the wagons as they rolled on down the road.
Kaileer seemed confident that the woman wasn't here to harm them but kept an eye on her as he crouched down and stuck his fingers into the ground as far as they would go. The ranger then pulled his hand and sniffed at the dirt clinging to it for any unusualy foul odor, though not expecting to find anything so obvious. "What happen to land?" he asked the farmer.
Aloysius, still sitting by the side of the road, watched as Azrun bid the farmers well. As the farmers disappeared down the road, the magic-user couldn't resist the urge to flash Azrun a special version of the PSF. "Bardic charisma, indeed," the magic-user muttered under his breath. Aloysius stood up and dusted off his robe. He looked back at the dark-haired woman on the horse. "Who be thee? We have matters grievous to attend and can't be delayed by every idle rider. State thy business."
The dark-haired woman slowly moved her horse to the side of the road to allow the farmers to pass. She kept her hands in view, holding the reins. She smiled politely at the farmers as they passed.
Gala, realizing that Azrun was too busy with the farmers to address the stranger, stepped a little closer to Aloysius and smiled up at the woman. "Greetings, Stranger. We have lately been attacked by bandits and orcs, so excuse us if we are wary. Still, I give you greeting, I am Galaret Lachiel, of Waterdeep. But most call me Gala. Do you mean us harm?"
The dark-haired woman looked from the strange purple-haired man to the small woman. "No," she said, her hand moving back to the reins. "I mean you no harm. My name is Janathell Caislean. The Constable in Milborne, Garyld, told me of a missing young woman. He suggested I speak with you all about it." Jana glanced back at the purple-haired man. "Although," she said slowly, "I must admit his description did not do you justice..."
"That constable has a gift for understatement," the dark-haired woman muttered quietly as she looked at Aloysius. She was tall, nearly six feet, and appeared to be quite athletic. Her long, jet black hair was tied back in a practical ponytail. Other than her unusual violet eyes, there was nothing remarkable about her appearance. She wore chain mail armor and had a shield strapped to her back. A sword, a bastard sword by the look of it, was belted on at her waist, and a mace was hanging on a strap from her saddlebags. As the strange-looking man began to act even more strangely, she quickly looked around at the others, clearly puzzled and no little concerned. She slid one hand slowly down toward the hilt of her sword. "I'm looking for a young woman named Jelenneth."
Azrun turned toward the the rider once the farmers were out of sight. He was roughly 6'2" with a medium build. His brown hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail. That was about as extroidinary as he got, although he was fairly handsome. He wore a cobalt blue shirt and black pants and carried a staff. "You're not the only one, miss? A young man back in town is quite heart broken over her recent disappearance. I am Azrun."
Now that Azrun, their dedicated speaker, was talking to Jana, Gala retreated properly to the background, as she'd been told.
Clinging to Pug's hand, Arachne came as close as she usually managed to paying attention to the general conversation.
Aloysius continued to hop around for a moment, then stopped and withdrew a small crystal from his pouch. He held the crystal up to his face and looked at the woman on the horse. "The Eye . . . .it SEES! See it does! Knows all it does, and learn will I." Then, the magic-user's voice changed into a more rhythmic, singsong pattern.
"Woman on horse, with hair like night,
We all oppose the evil's might.
If intentions foul you have for us,
Then . . . . . ."
The magic-user glanced about and scrathed his head. Finally, he looked over at Arachne. "Small one, what doth rhyme with 'us'?"
"Um," Jana said slowly, "'fuss'?"
Aloysius lifted his head after a bit and looked up at the woman on the horse. "'Fuss'? Hmmm . . . .it doth ryhme indeed, but doesn't convey the proper thought. My intent was to advise thee that if thou art a kindly soul, then I don't mind if you come with us. However, if you are bad, well, I'd have to kill you." Once again, the magic-user habitually tried to stroke his now-absent razor stubble. "Fuss, truss, cuss, . . . . .Damn! Perhaps the rhyme would work better in Espruar. . . . ." At that point, he saw something small disappear into the grass, so he crawled over to where it went and began looking for it.
After he placed his crystal back into his pouch, he approached the woman on the horse. "Stargazer be I, seeker of things sought, and learner of the unlearned." He sniffled for a moment, looked over at Gala, and then back at the woman. "Uh, wouldst thou have a handkerchief I could borrow? I will surely return it to thee promptly." With that, Aloysius flopped down on the ground in a spread-eagle position, looking skyward. Those closest to him thought they heard him saying "rhyme . . .eye . . .learn . . .sought . . .wrought . . .snot . . .don't get caught. . . ." over and over again.
Jana looked down at the man, then back up at the others, confusion and trepidation clearly written on her face
Azrun looked over the mage again and then back to Jana and rolled his eyes, "He's quite harmless. As far as the young girl, we've found out very little so far. We checked with the wizard she was apprenticed too. He has not seen her either. We've also lost a companion mysteriously." Azrun looked at the group and the rider, his expression was much more serious now. "I suggest we find a place to discuss everything that has happened and develop a plan of action. I would like to know what the rest of you found out while with Kuiper. Maybe we can go to the farm and set up camp there. Maybe in a barn or something. It'll keep us dry and give us a place to rest and talk. I have a tendency to get plugged with arrows while standing in the road." He looked around as he waited for comments and reactions.
Aloysius (still seated by the side of the road), listened intently as the farmer spoke to Kaileer. As the farmers moved off, Aloysius said something to Kaileer in the same strange tongue he had used earlier.
The purple-haired magic-user gave out a sort of brief, maniacal laugh. "Harmless I be? Ask the forest orcs how harmless I be. And the farmers on the road . . .well, maybe we shouldn't discuss that." Aloysius looked over at Azrun and smiled. "Scribe, we be in agreement! 'Tis as unlikely as the conjuncture of globular dark matter and the polar energy field of Sarver. Or as unlikely as . . . . . ." He stopped as he made eye contact with Arachne. "Our course seems directed toward this Mire. Let us make haste to the farm and do as Scribe hath said." He looked up at the woman rider. "Accompany us if thou would, woman, but bear thee a swift blade. Trouble doth find us with frequency."
Arachne shrugged. "It's where I've been wanting to go all along," she claimed. "I'm just a mud-loving little gnome."
Pug waited quietly with Arachne while the farmers moved off and the bigger folk talked to the mounted woman. He then moved closer to Arachne and whispered something in her ear.
After he had commented to Kaileer in a strnage tongue and Pug and Arachne had made gigglies at each other, Aloysius addressed the group. "'Twould seem that this farm bears investigation. For lack of a more appealing option, let us hasten there to see if we can solve the dilemma of the growing Mire." He looked up to the woman rider. "Art thou coming? If so, need have we of thy mount's name. Personably do we treat our animal companions."
"I suppose so," Jana said slowly. "Um, his name is... Horse," she said, trailing off. Her eyes darted around, trying to keep a watch on all of these most interesting people at once. Her body was tense and she seemed very nervous.
Aloysius seemed amused by the response. Looking over at Gala, he said, "By the gods, gentle one, mayhap it best if someone other than Jana take charge of problem-solving duties?"
"And should more of these brigands or orcs attack," Jana shot back, "then surely your rapier-like wit will hold them at bay."
Gala smiled at Aloysius and at the new woman, Jana. "Welcome, Jana. I do so hope you have a sense of humor. Almost everything else is optional, though we could use a strong sword arm what with Zond missing and Torro leaving."
Jana smiled back at the woman. "I hope so too, she said, only half-joking." She placed her hand lightly on the hilt of her sword. "I'm fairly adept with a sword," she said with a grin. "I may not be all that great at problem-solving, but I can damned sure swing a sword."
Aloysius's sly grin quickly vanished, replaced by a stern look of repressed irritation. "Woman, you'll find my blades fly true and my magics most formidable. Ask the farmers whose lives I saved and the orc that doth rot in the woods."
Azrun looked at the mage then to Jana, "Just don't ask the ones he spelled to sleep." He then turned and headed off.
Arachne giggled. "They just couldn't appreciate the stargazer's humanitarian instincts."
The magic-user's shoulders slumped at hearing the comments of the others. Head down, he muttered something about "showing them", and trudged off down the road.
"Sometimes, swinging a sword _is_ the only solution to a problem," Arachne mused -- unhappily, since she did claim to be a follower of Eldath. I mean, did you ever hear the story of the Gajan Bow? It's supposed to be very old." She shrugged. "There's no knowing if it really is so very old, of course, unless you yourself are very old and this supposedly happened millenia ago..." Her voice trailed away, her mind wondering how one could be certain of anything that supposedly happened millenia ago.
"The Bow." Arachne remembered that someone might've been listening to her. "Ages ago, when the Old Empires were new and the god-kings were active and conquering their realms, Gilgamesh and his army crossed the Sea of Ara-something to the city of Gaj. Beholding the city, Gilgamesh knew he must have it. But he decided to visit the place first and drape his iron gauntlets with a scrap of diplomatic silk. With his army camped right outside and himself shining with a divine aureole, his hosts were as edgy as cats in a kennel. They did their best under the circumstances, showing him around the major attractions of the city, pointing out how thick their walls were, and high, and well defended. And so on.
"They were crossing the main square of the city when Gilgamesh noticed a mass of rope lying out in the middle. Since the streets of Gaj were neat and orderly for the most part, Gilgamesh was intrigued at the sight. He asked about it. His guides looked at each other, their nervousness rising another notch. They said it was just a big tangle of rope and tried to hurry on with the tour. So many things to see before dark and the fog rolled in. Whatever.
"But Gilgamesh's interest was even more roused by the Gajan's reaction.
He insisted on going over to the tangle of rope. For one thing, he saw
that it was tied in place. And there were glyphs etched in the rock to
which the rope was fastened. Gilgamesh demanded to know what the glyphs
said. The Gajans prevaricated and said it was a very old writing and the
meaning was unclear and debatable and so on. Gilgamesh, who was never known
for patience, got tired of the mealy responses and did the divine omniscience
thing; after that, he knew what it said.
"'It says,' he told the Gajans, ' "Whoever shall part this Bow (this
tangling of rope) is rightfully ruler of Gaj."'
"'Well, yes,' one of the Gajans admitted. 'That does seem to be the
sense of the thing.'
"Gilgamesh looked at the rope. 'Whoever tied that bow did a pretty
complicated job,' he mused.
"'It's been there as long as anyone can remember,' another Gajan told
him.
"'So you've been without a rightful ruler as long as that?' Gilgamesh
asked.
"'We rather liked it that way --' a Gajan admitted, but Gilgamesh didn't
want to hear that. With the speed that a god can muster when he really
wants to get something done, the God-King of Unther drew his great sword
and sliced through the Gajan Bow.
"'It's parted,' he said simply. 'Where's your throne room?'
"Gaj has been part of Unther ever since." Arachne shrugged. "No, I don't suppose that has anything to do with our being in a barn in the middle of a bog. It's just about solving -- or creating -- problems with a swing of a sword. I mean, I don't suppose we really had much choice with those brigands _or_ those orcs besides fighting them. It's not like they tried to do any peaceful intimidation before the arrows started flying. It's just a story..."
Jana smiled. "A sword is just a tool, like a blacksmith's hammer or a farmer's plow. My sword is my tool, and with it I earn a living." She shrugged. "I'm not looking to swing it at anyone or anything, unless I'm being paid to do so."
Aloysius listened patiently to Arachne's story. After he was sure she was finished, he spoke up. "Arachne, why would the Gajans accept a sovereign who could not read?" He took hold of each of his braids and folded them upwards to their ends met just past the tip of his nose. Holding them there, he seemed to stare off into space as he awaited Arachne's answer.
"Because they are sensible enough to know that many other qualities are far more important in a sovereign than the ability to decipher small squiggles that have been encoded on a surface," Arachne replied, an edge creeping into her voice. "Sovereigns employ clerks to look after those chores. Nations employ sovereigns to lead, not read. And, incidentally, the divine Gilgamesh could read quite well, when he put his mind to it."
"Mayhap that be true," said Aloysius. "Is this Gilgamesh related somehow to thy lord? Tell me something of the one you serve."
"I can't see why she'd want to come with us," Arachne said bluntly, gazing at and admiring Jana's coating of metal. "Do you have any idea how much work it'll be for her to clean off that mail after slogging through acres of muck? Sorry! I'm forgetting my manners. Again. I'm Arachne Convola the Useless." She grinned, her gaze flickering a moment to Jana's sheathed sword and shield. "From Furthinghome on the Sea of Fallen Stars. My stratigic insignificance is well attested by the fact that neither brigand nor orc bothered to loose even a single arrow in my direction. They couldn't be bothered even to try to swat me with the flats of their weapons." She glanced at Aloysius. "Perhaps everyone around here takes Eldath seriously. Well, I'm in agreement with the rest of you at least regarding a first step: Let's go visit this lately vacated farm."
Jana smiled slightly and replied from atop her horse, "I don't intend to slog." She looked down at the ground with a critical eye and shrugged. "Besides, I've cleaned armor more than once in my life. I'd much rather have to clean it than not wear it at all. I doubt that passing brigands or orcs would be as considerate of me when choosing their target." She grinned and added, "But thanks for the information. I may hide behind you."
The ranger walked back to the road and approached the rider with a certain lack of caution. "Not need make horse carry you." He said with a thick accent, it is obvious that common is a second language to Kaileer. "You have legs... use." The elf said matter of factly then turned back and started walking ahead of the group, bow in hand.
Jana looked at the elf, blinked a few times, then ignored him. She remained mounted until the terrain became dangerous. She did, however, make sure she rode behind the bow-carrying elf.
