| Logs |
2009 January 18
| When The Bough Breaks |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
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| Realms: Bough Logs |
Second Movement, First Triplet
The group sets out from the Winter Palace. It is, to start out with, not an unpleasant journey. THe 'roads ' -- really wide paths -- are easy to navigate, and Ataraxos is more than happy to point out major landmarks along the way. The entire trip is going to take several days, but he does note that it won't get rough until they're a day or two from Thebes, and are closer to the Deep Wyld.
The road does go well deosil of Snowcrest, and every so often they do spot a scout stag-rider from the Palace, undoubtedly fixing the position of Mordred's army which is several leagues' further deosil. While the group does not need to rest or eat, Ataraxos does, but he has great endurance; he asks only for a few hours' of rest before each dawn, which lets the group cover a great deal of ground.
It is now a few hours before the second Dawn during their trip. A small fire crackles a few yards from the road in a forest clearing, casting flickering light along the canopy of trees and the chill ground. Ataraxos is sleeping deeply, fortunately not snoring much; true to his word and Vijdis's promise, he has been the perfect gentleman throughout the trip, and has managed to not confuse the mortals, acting simply as a guide and pointer of the way.
Mikal is quietly checking over the fey-stag's new tack. She knows new equipment always looks pretty but needs to be carefully watched to be sure it's kept clean and weathering use properly. Iron Antlers is resting comfortably at her back -- she's leaning against him, in fact -- while Raphael is curled up next to her and enjoying the fire's warmth.
Jareth has spent a lot of time trying to get the satyr to tell him stories. He's fascinated by the goat-like man and actually seems right at home with him.
Norris is more or less relaxed by Ataraxos's unimpeachable behavior, but is nonetheless quiet on the journey, caught up in his own thoughts about this whole matter, particularly Tomas's fervent desire to get his hands on a wasp-killing weapon. While he agrees that killing the wasps is of paramount importance, he doesn't have so much confidence that it's a matter of finding the weapon, and then taking a short trip and killing a wasp the size of a small mountain. Himself, he's content to be told what to do, being that the Aelefar have been here so much longer, and know far more than him. And yet...if they knew what to do, wouldn't they have done it already?
Jareth's head comes up and he scans the trees around the little camp, putting the fire at his back and trying to get low. He knows he'll be backlit, but it will also help him to adjust his own eyes to the dark.
Mikal looks up alertly at almost the same exact time Raphael does. She glances at the raptor wolf, who rises and slides back out of the firelight, then back into the underbrush -- at about the same time as she does. She's got her bow with her.
Raphael doesn't like the scent of it, whatever it is, but whatever is making the rustling isn't trying to be terribly discreet about it. Raph scents a number of them, and shortly there are three pairs of large, yellow eyes, catching the fire's light, apparently making their way through the forest to the campsite.
Mikal slips to place her back to a tree, hidden in shadow, and nocks an arrow. The big fey-stag rises, snorting warily. [Raphael, check and make sure there are no others -- just these three, please, whatever they are?]
Norris stiffles a yawn. "Ahm goin' t' bed if no one has objections...mebbe we dun need sleep, but ah's tired." he half-mumbles to Jareth.
Jareth makes an abrupt shhing sound and holds his hand up toward Norris, telling him silently to wait a moment.
Mikal catches a glimpse of them first, her eyesight adapting to the darkness away from the campfire, and Jareth a few heartbeats' later. They are a trio of rather brutish creatures, short -- waist high to Jareth -- with mossy skin and lank, wiry limbs that seem just a little too long. The pointy ears are huge, easilly the length of their faces, and their noses are likewise long and ponty. Mops of unkempt hair frame their broad faces. They are rather crudely clothed, in tatty rags with what look like rough hide vests and short (short for a human, at any rate) spears.
Norris blinks and pauses in the act of getting off the log he's sitting on, sitting back down slowly. He wants to look around, but be plays it safe and waits for Jareth's cue...
Jareth swallows quietly and takes a deep breath, looking around to see if he can see Mikal. When he notices that she's gone, as well as Raphael, he assumes she's slipped off to check things out.
Mikal raises an eyebrow, and suggests over their linkage that Iron Antlers get back so Jareth can try talking to them if he wants... and Raphael ghost up behind one for in case they get aggressive. She herself aims at the one inbetween, since she figures Norris will handily take out the one closest to Jareth if necessary.
Jareth stands up and calls out, "We know you're out there. You're not doing a very good job of hiding."
Norris blinks...he really is tired, because he's doing a horrible job of noticing. He gets to his feet though, pulling his maul from its sling...holding it firm in both hands without bringing it into attack position. Yet.
The three figures pause, then after a few moments of hushed words between the three, they step fully into the light from the fire, and, if they are not interrupted, pads up quite unconcernedly and plop themselves down around the fire, not much closer than Jareth and Norris are.
Mikal frowns a little worriedly as Raphael lets her know there are more of them out in the forest. He can't tell her how many exactly, but he's got their scents.
Jareth arches an eyebrow and says, drily, "Please, make yourselves right at home. How can we help you?"
Norris stares himself at these unusual creatures...he doesn't lower his guard, but he does look from one to the next, curious, thoughtful. "Mebbe they're jsut cold?" he ponders aloud to Jareth.
The creatures.... gabble. Not in unison, but together as if all saying something at once. The middle one holds up a hand, silencing the other two, then rambles on again to Jareth in that same... language. If language it could be.
Jareth holds up a hand and says, "Hold." He turns to their satyr guide and shakes him by the shoulder.
Ataraxos 'Mmrrphs,' and comes awake, albeit a little slowly. He yawns largely as he starts to sit up. "Urr..? Yes, Jareth, what's going on?" he asks groggily.
Jareth smiles a bit, "We have, uh... visitors."
The three are watching Ataraxos alertly with almost creepy intensity.
Ataraoxs for his part blinks, and looks past Jareth. "Kobolds," he murmurs. "Some are in the towns and villages, but the ones in the wilderness, near the hills... I've heard it said that sometimes they waylay travellers."
Norris unhuhs. "Right now, they seem t' be busy stealin our warmth." he comments. It's hard to say if he's joking or not.
The aspiring bard crouches with his elbows on his knees, hands dangling between his thighs, "They aren't being particularly aggressive. But I can't understand them."
Ataraxos slowly sits up. "I'm a little surprised. I've not met any in the field, but in cities they speak just like anyone else..."
Norris ponders. "yew think mebbe yew kin wiggle yer fingers at them, Jareth? Ah mean...yew's our best spokesman, an there's already been a buncha winter clothes creatin' magics...mebbe yew can touch one o' em and use magicks t' learn they's language?" he suggests.
Jareth mmms and scratches under his jaw where he's starting to get a little stubble. He turns to the kobolds and says, "Nod if you can understand what I'm saying.
All three kobolds tilt their heads (not in the same direction) in curiosity as Jareth talks to them.
Mikal looks more worried as Raphael lets her know the ones in the forest are now moving towards the fire. She hastily glances around for a better vantage point -- maybe a tree she can climb for a better rate of fire?
Jareth speaks over his shoulder to their satyr guide, "Guess not." He tips hs head and bites his bottom lip, wondering what their motive is.
At Mikal's request, Iron Antlers snorts, glancing out at the woods -- then lowering his head to tilt his antlers in that direction, pawing the ground in slow menace. As he does so (hopefully both warning the others and distracting the kobolds), Mikal shimmies swiftly up the tree she's against -- it will do nicely!
From her vantage point now, with eyesight adapted to the darkness, Mikal can see half a dozen of these kobolds' compatriots moving towards the campsite through the trees.
Jareth shakes his head slowly, "I think... you know, I think they might be a little scared." He moves back to the fire and sits down carefully, across from them, "Are you just needing warmth, I wonder?"
Mikal hmms thoughtfully, glancing around carefully as she makes sure she's firmly braced in the tree. She sets up her arrows for easy access, and nocks one in her bow, then asks Iron Antlers to step away from the fire a bit.
The big stag gives Norris a gentle nudge with his nose -- away from the fire.
Norris nods a little. "Stands t' reason. They doan exactly look all that..." He's interrupted as Iron Antlers nudges him. He blinks, not remembering a time when the stag ever paid attention to him. "Ahm sorreh, are yew hungry?"
The big stag steps forward a bit and gives a more emphatic nudge back away from the fire.
Norris seems utterly confused. "Whut? M'I carryin an apple or sommat?" he queries, confused, although as the stag get more insistent, he does take a couple steps back. Big head of pointy horns, after all.
The big stag seems satisfied with that, and simply goes back to staring warily in the direction the other half-dozen kobolds are coming from.
Two of the kobolds are distracted by Iron antlers -- actually, one is, who then nudges his partner at the fey-stag nudging Norris. They stifle what sounds like snicker-giggles at the sight. Meanwhile, the third, paying attention to Jareth, tilts his head to the other side, then brightens and rubs his hands together.
Norris huhs at kobolds laughing. "That coul' be good. Mebbe. Sound less scared." he says to no one in particular.
Jareth's eyes narrow at the rubbing of hands together. This doesn't make him feel confident that they're harmless.
Jareth smiles at Norris and shrugs, "Wish I knew, Nor. Right now. They're just sitting there looking sort of... foreign." He grins brightly, "Maybe I should leard kobold."
Mikal sighs internally, glancing around. There's been no real indication the kobolds are nasty, and she's not willing to simply shoot. But there will soon be 9 kobolds to their six entities. So... how to balance the odds a bit?
Norris abruptly realizes something. "Where's M..." he starts to ask...and then trails off. It's as if a small chalkboard has appeared over his head that read "1+2="...and then the rest of it gets filled in. "Ah."
At this point, there is a greater rustling in the brush; much louder and again, nobody seems to be making an effort to hide themselves. TO Mikal's eye, the other kobolds are about to enter the clearing.
Jareth grins at Norris as he adds the pieces together to get the whole picture.
Norris starts at the rustling...his hands stiffen on his maul, his face getting tense. He looks over at the satyr, wondering at his idea about all this.
The kobold that had been paying attention to Jareth glances over his shoulder at the rustling, then gets his companions' attention, pulling them up to stand.
Jareth looks in the direction that the kobold is looking, standing as well. It's an automatic gesture, not a defensive one. One simply stands when one's guests do.
The group that comes out of the forest is somewhat less tatty than the three who preceeded them, though they aren't as well-equipped as the mortals. Arrayed in a variety of tunics, hide armors, and caps, and with mosty spears, the keystone figure seems to be a slightly burlier kobold carrying a pickaxe and looking a lot more work-worn than the others. "Apologies," he says, his voice rough and grating and heavily-accented. "Might have food could trade for?"
Mikal frowns, still not pleased at the odds, but continues to silently watch, bow in hand. She wonders why the raggedy ones were sent out first.
Norris ohs! and looks over at Jareth. "That splains that. The leader kin speak like us." he suggests with a smile.
Jareth nods and smiles, looking over the larger group and says, "Let me check to see what we have. What would you offer?" He doesn't think they have a lot extra, but he's been a shepherd for years. Shepherd's take care of things.
Norris huhs, and looks over at Iron Antlers. "Yew knew, didn't yew. That's why yew wuz looking fer apples. Yew wanted me t' give to them." he suggests to the stag. Of course, it all makes perfect sense.
The lead kobold, reaches behind himself and pulls out a small pouch. The other kobolds get a little more alert when he does so, and he pulls out a small nugget of what looks like silver ore, still unsmelted, with a tiny flickering of awen still in the nugget. "Raw silver, with awen," he says. "Is ours, not stolen! Mined from own mine, before Mordred drove us out."
The big stag lowers his head enough to snuff gently at Norris' shoulder, but remains carefully wary as he watches the kobolds.
Jareth asks their guide, "Do we have extra to share with them?"
Norris blinks. Well now. That puts this on a very different footing. Instead of jsut charity, actual trade. "Mebbe we can do better'n extra. After all...they's keep tellin us we can survive wi'ou food fer a bit."
Jareth chuckles and says, "Sure. But he can't." He tips his head to Arraxos.
Ataraxos looks dubious, but he says, "Uhm, I suppose we can swing by a town in the next day or two. I would need supplies, but since you don't, we've... well, maybe a week's worth of food to spare. It won't last as long for all of them, but they might make it last longer since they're kobolds...."
Jareth nods and says, "Good. Let's do that." He shrugs and admits, "I hate to see anyone go hungry." He moves toward the supply packs and starts putting together the extra.
Mikal considers carefully for a bit, then checks with Raphael, [Do you think we could successfully hunt here for a bit? A few rabbits or wild goats or something?]
Raphael likes that idea. In fact, aside from chasing after rabbits to, uh, keep in practice (no, really) he hasn't been hunting in a while.
Mikal grins, [All right! We'll do that then. Stay out of sight, yes? We don't need to give up this small advantage until they're gone -- we can hunt for Ataraxos.] She turns to look at the kobolds, then goes, [Wait... Mordred drove them out? Hm. I wonder if the palace folks would let them come help out.] Bemusedly she adds, [And since when is arwen in the ground as well? This stuff really gets around!]
Jareth speaks to the kobold leader as he puts together packets of food, "We don't have a great deal extra, but it'll be enough to maybe take the edge off the gnawing in your bellies, eh? You have a name?"
Norris gets that look on his face when the gears are slowly turning in his head. "Why did Mordred drive you out? Does he not like, er...kobolds? or did he just want the awen?" he queries, then, addressing the one that spoke.
Raphael remains out of sight in the forest, far enogh back so that the fire light doesn't reflect in his eyes. He suggests maybe consulting the bail or Ataraxos about awen since he knows nothing about -- ooh, rabbit! He slides through the woods after it.
The leader nods. "My name ist Hans. Once koenig of the Brandenvell clan, before lost our mine." Hans looks to Norris. "Wanted silver and awen for himself, am thinking. He knew we just wouldn't give it to him, so he took over Brandenvell mine, drove us out."
Jareth's mouth compresses into a thin line and he stands, bringing over the packets of extra food and saying, "I grieve to hear it, friend. Mordred has caused much pain for many. I hope this helps ease your hardship."
Norris's brow creases. "This alla you? 'r are there more folk somewhere else?" he queries. "A village what depends on yer mine?"
Mikal grins at Raphael's commentary, then hms! Good point about the bail. She carefully and slowly sets her bow aside, then equally carefully and slowly opens her backpack. She doesn't bother taking the bail out -- just leans down to whisper to the bail (with the backpack as sound muffler), "What can you tell me about the Brandenvell kobold clan?"
Apparently the bail is muffled well enough. It chimes softly -- and none of the kobolds seem to notice -- and says, "A clan of kobolds who inhabit and operate the mine of the same name. Small as clans go, it is still considered a full clan, and has a kaiser, or king, and several koenigs, or princes. It has ongoing trade agreements for silver and awen with the Winter Palace and subordinate contracts with surrounding villages for same."
Hans grimaces and shies a bit. "This is all of us who survive. Mordred... was as thorough as he could. Some of our clan are scattered, and we have been trying to find them." He nods to Jareth, as three of the kobolds accept the food packets and he koenig offers the pouch of ore nuggets to Jareth. "Dankeschoen, mortal. That Mordred has. I am hoping we can make our way to the Palace and tell them of our trials. Perhaps they will help us, or perhaps not. We shall see."
Norris uhs, and looks at Jareth. He gestures to the other young man. "Moment, please." he says to the kobold.
Mikal slides down the tree, reassured by the bail, and calls softly, "Hello, everyone!" before she walks into the firelight -- she doesn't want to spook the kobolds. She smiles down at them and says, "Hi, Hans and clan."
Norris gestures Mikal over as well, desiring a huddle.
The kobolds all turn and blink as one as they spot Mikal, clearly not expecting her. "You mean she was here all--?" "Ja," Hans says, looking pointedly at another kobold who had come in with him. "Danke, master scout...." But he recovers then, inclining his head to Mikal. "Guten tag, fraulein. You are the stag-rider?"
Jareth arches a brow, tucking the pouch into his belt as he moves to huddle with his companions.
Mikal nods cheerfully, "Hai! But no worries -- the bail says you have ongoing trade agreements for silver and awen with the Winter Palace, and subordinate contracts with surrounding villages for same, so you must be all right."
Hans nods. "Ja, yes, we do." There is a smattering of that same language between some of the kobolds. It sounds almost familiar for some reason.
Norris looks at his Jareth as Mikal keeps conversing with them. "They seem nice enou'. Ah wanna say they kin use our names. But then that tells em we's from th' palace, an that's not good, yeah? Still..." he says in an undertone. "They do have sommat t' trade. Mebbe that's enoug', yeah?"
Jareth smiles and puts a hand on a shoulder of each of his companions, "They're OK, guys. Really. Let's let them have their food and wish them well. SEnd them on toward the palace."
Mikal nods cheerfully to Jareth, glancing over her shoulder to him, "Makes sense to me!" She turns back to the kobolds, adding, "The people at the palace are quite nice -- you should go talk to them and see if they can help you, yes?"
Hans looks somewhat relieved, nodding. "Ja, we'll do that. I know they have had problems with Mordred, and they might not be able to help, but we will go still and ask."
Mikal smiles and pats the kobold on the shoulder, then looks back at Jareth, "I can go hunting tomorrow, if you want to give them a bit more food?"
Norris stiffles a smile. "Like we coul' hold yew back from huntin', Mikal." he comments fondly.
Mikal grins cheerfully at Norris, then beams inquiringly at Jareth.
Jareth grins and squeezes Mikal's shoulder, "Smart thinking, little rabbit." He goes back to the packs and gets another day or two worth of food to add to what they've already given Hans.
All of the kobolds perk at that; they aren't drooling, but the idea of fresh meat does get their attention. Hans himself says, ""Fraulein.... we couldn't... I mean, we couldn't ask that of you. Just selling us food was generous enough. We are only miners, and could not help, as much as we would dearly love it...." One kobold murmurs, "Been 'most thirty days since we had meat, mein koenig...."
Norris's brow knits again. Why does this language sound so familiar? He'd think he'd know it if he'd met kobolds before...
Jareth shakes his head and says, "Mikal and Raphael like to hunt. They love it, actually. You would be doing us a favor to give them an excuse to do it."
Mikal glances back at the kobolds, a bit surprised. She'd meant to hunt for her companions, but it's just hit her how these folks must be if they're on the run and desperately searching for the tattered remains of their clan. Her eyes narrow in sudden anger at Mordred, and without thinking the fire crackles higher a bit -- then she says firmly, "We can fix that. Hang on, please." To Raphael she calls, [Raph, little brother, can you bring that rabbit in instead of eating it? Please?]
One of the kobolds near the fire goes "Yeep!" and backs away a bit from it. Shortly, carrying a freshly-killed rabbit b it's broken neck, and managing to resist swallowing it in one glup, comes Raphael.
Mikal is already starting a nice pot of soup over the fire. When Raphael returns she hugs the big raptor wolf, then gets one of the kobolds to start skinning and preparing the rabbit. She'll set another to chopping up some greens, and warns them all to not eat the rabbit raw, nor toss it in yet -- she and Raph will be back in just a bit! She's going to see if she can get another rabbit or three, considering how many hungry mouths to feed there are.
Norris looks at Jareth. "Dawn's commin' soon, and wi' that, things dissapear...but mebbe after that, we coul' think up some fur cloak for em? Won last moren' a day, but mebbe that helps?" he suggests.
Jareth nods slowly and smiles slightly, voice soft, "And we have awen."
Mikal comes trotting back triumphantly with Raphael about an hour later. She's carrying a handful of game, which she cheerfully sets the kobolds to skinning and preparing. While they do that she goes through her backpack and checks for the right greenery to give a balanced diet (at least for a human) when one is eating mostly rabbit.
Mikal beams at her friends, "Breakfast soon!"
Norris can't help but smile himself. "No rabbits 'r safe when Mikal and Raph is onna job!" he declares.
Mikal giggles cheerfully at Norris, but also makes sure Raphael gets some of the tasty rabbit stew once it's done.
Jareth helps as much as he can with the stew and speaks quietly to Mikal, flashing her a brilliant smile, "You've got a kind heart, little rabbit."
Mikal blinks at Jareth, then grins shyly and blushes, "Well, I, uh, they -- I mean, you know -- hungry?"
Jareth nods and gives her a half-hug, using just one arm and trying not to spook her, "Yeah, I know."
Mikal blushes more and beams.
The kobolds are all pretty much dumbfounded, but are vocal in their thanks for the stew. As they eat -- while they are not exactly the neatest eaters, they do eat and praise the cooking and the meal with gusto -- Hans explains the caution they showed: Miner kobolds had never been welcomed by most travellers or townsfolks. Three of the kobolds volunteered to approach the camp first; if they were treated badly or chased off, then the other kobolds would know to avoid the travellers.
"Mind you," he says, "after seeing the mortals in Mordred's army, I'd almost be inclined to be wary of any we met as it is, but we know not all mortals are like the ones with him."
Mikal gives the kobold a curious look from where she's curled up against Raphael, "Um... you do know we're mortals, right? Except for Ataraxos there?"
Hans nods. "Ja, which is why I was cautious... but the mortals who join Mordred's army... they're... I don't know... broken. They don't think right."
Mikal nods, understanding what Hans is trying to say. Her voice is quiet as she murmurs, "Yeah... I think I know what you mean."
Jareth nods, "I can't help but agree with you there, Hans. What they're doing is... unthinkable."
Norris looks curious. "Kin yew say more about that? Ah mean, specifics? Tehy been...ah mean, is they insane? R' are they lak....controlled?" Norris doesn't know how to explain how he even came up with the idea of outside control, but...there's an awful lot of magic around. Maybe such a controlling magic exists.
Hans thinks as he devours the last bit of stew in his bowl. "I don't think they're insane in the way an alienist would say they're insane," he says slowly. "But they're... different. They don't think right. I don't think Mordred's sorceress could control that many minds at once. Maybe it's just the mortals he attracts."
Mikal nods, listening to Hans, then says to Norris, "The... the captain, I think? -that I talked to. He called himself an absurdist -- said stuff like it all didn't matter so why bother." Unhappily she adds, "He... I... I'm sorry, Norris, I don't understand well enough to explain."
Jareth nods and sighs quietly, "There are bad people. Just... bad seeds."
Norris huhs at Mikal. "But ah thought th' captain weren't on Mordred's side, either?"
Mikal says, "The one I met was. He had on the uniform, you know?"
Jareth clears his throat and says tactfully, "Not the ship's captain, Norris. She certainly wasn't one of Mordred's."
Norris grimaces. "Ah seen th' army. That's an aweful lotta bad seeds. Make a fella wonder iffn' these folk had help, urgin em along t' this end."
Norris oh-ohs. "Ah see. Yeah, ah misunderstoods, annat."
Hans says, "If so, there may be ways to lure them back. Turn them back from the Abyss they looked into."
Mikal smiles at Norris a bit sadly, "For most of them, I bet it was just the shock of seeing their homes eaten by the spiderwasps, Norr." She hugs Raphael tightly as she adds in a small voice, "I... sometimes I want to pretend it was all just a nightmare..."
Jareth slides his arm around Mikal again, if she doen't shy away from it.
Mikal huddles between Raphael and Jareth, suddenly very glad to have warm, friendly pack members around.
Norris clears his throat, looking apologetically at the kobolds. "Sorreh. Doan men t' be such sour mash around yuh. Th' rabbit good?"
"Oh, ja. We've not eaten this well in some time!" Hans looks at Mikal for a few moments, then nods a little, rousing himself. "I know it's not much," he says, digging through his satchel, "but it's the least we can do to thank you... and it might help you sometime.
"Take this seal." He passes over a small ring, about small enough for a kobold's finger, on a leathern cord. "It's a little bauble, not much to look at. But if you ever come upon another clan of miner-kobolds, show the kaiser that and tell him my name, and you'll be given hospitality. I know the Dresdenburg Mine clan would be glad to welcome you."
Mikal blinks, then smiles shyly, "Thank you!"
Norris blinks. "Well, naew. That's awful kind o y'all." he comments, looking pleased. New friends.
Mikal carefully puts the cord about her neck, then curiously tests the little ring. She's very small -- will it fit on her little finger?
Hans smiles quietly. "Bitteschoen. You never know when you might need such friends. Dresedenburg is further towards Yggdrasil than here, but you might be in that area someday."
Surprisingly, it seems even a tad too small for even Mikal's finger.
Mikal nods gravely to the kobold, tucking the ring into her shirt, "We need to stick together against the monsters, yes."
Hans nods. "And not all of the monsters are out there in the Mirror." He looks around, letting out a breath. "Well! It is almost dawn, now. We should be on our way. It is another two Dawns to the Palace for us."
Mikal smiles again, although apologetically this time, "I'm sorry -- we'd go with you, but we have an errand we have to run first. Will you all be all right?"
Hans nods, "With this? We'll easily have enogh to meet up with the rest of the survivors, and make our way to the Palace. Thank you, fraulein, herren. Your generosity made our trip much more of a relief, and your hospitality shortened what would have been anotherwise cold night."
Mikal beams shyly, her voice very soft as she half ducks behind Jareth and Raphael at all the praise, "Um... g-glad we could help!"
Jareth nods, face solemn, "Consider us your friends, Hans. Please."
With that, and additional goodbyes, the clan of kobolds heads Mirrorward towards the Palace. Just after they enter the forest, light rises and sweeps across the land, rejuvenating and replenishing the creative energy which seems to make the Dreamtime thrive. Dawn arrives.
Mikal watches the light sweeping across the sky, wondering... she glances at her companions and murmurs a little sadly, "I hope they find more of their clan. Nine males isn't enough for a healthy pack."
Jareth nods slowly. Not wanting to wonder aloud what happened to the females.
Norris looks confused. "Why? We's a smaller pack thannat an..." he trails off then, realizing the implication, and decides not to pursue it further. "Nivver mind."
Mikal sighs, then grins ruefully at Norris before she turns and starts saddling up Iron Antlers, giving him a handful of molassessed oats for breakfast. She makes sure their camp is completely obliterated as well before they head out -- her father taught her to never leave any mark of her passing, and she does her best to continue that excellent advice even with a large group. "So, Ataraxos... how far now? Which way?"
Ataraxos stifles a yawn, and looks around. "Uhm! Let me think for a moment. I do need to stop by a town or village on our way to Thebes so I can get food... however, we're two days away from a city that's on the way to Thebes as it is, so that should work fine for us. I think I've enough food to last until then, easily."
Mikal smiles down at the satyr from the fey-stag's back, "We can always hunt on the way too. That's harder, but if we keep a careful eye out we might succeed."
Jareth grins fondly at Mikal, but addresses the satyr, "Mikal and Raphael can feed you in a pinch."
Ataraxos smiles, "I would say that I would not want to put her through any troubles, but as you all have said, you do enjoy hunting, Mikal."
Norris smiles. "Oh no. Not more huntin'. What e'er will we do." Okay, now he *is* making a joke.
Mikal giggles at Norris! Then she leans to companionably slap the stag's shoulder, "Let's run, handsome! We'll scout out the path ahead of you all. See you at lunch!"
Vijdis wasn't kidding when she said that the trip was relatively relaxing. The trip is easy, if bland, though it does expand upon their knowledge of the lay of the land. Upwards of a day away, though, they see the narrow spires of their destination: the city Alexandria.
A day later, they stand upon a bluff where the forest ends, looking down the road that leads to the great white granite city. The city sprawls comfortably before them, as if it were quite content to remain fairly low to the ground, without any pretensions of growing higher than a couple of stories or crowding too close together. There are even so a number of spires, either watchtowers or prayer towers of some kind, reaching up into the sky like gleeming white needles. Despite the humility of the city, though, there is a large, sprawling building that dominates the center of the city.
"Alexandria," Ataraxos says. "They say that if the library doesn't have it here, it's never been written."
Norris almost scowls. "Sommat aint right." he mumbles, then.
Jareth smirks a little and sighs, "Now you make me wish I could read."
Mikal is standing gracefully on the stag's back, one hand shading her eyes and the other holding onto part of Iron Antlers' rack as she studies the city down below them. "Why's that, Norris?"
Norris shakes his head. "Ah jus been havin this...odd feelin. Ever since ah dissapeared b'fore the dinner over at Cap'n Vijdis's house. All these things, places, peoples lookin all different from mortal folk...they seemed strange an' new and different. But now, ah heer things - like talk o' a library at Alexandria - an it all seems so familiar e'en though ah aint nivver been here. Hell's bells, Mikal! Ah aint nivver e'en seen a book afore commin here? How th' hell'd I e'en know that a library issa place that collects lotsa books?" His tone is frustrated, but un directed.
Mikal blinks at Norris, then sits down on Iron Antlers' rump and gets a thoughtful look, "You know... you're right, Norr! Did anyone else feel like they should really already understand the kobolds, too?" Unimpressed, the stag grazes.
Norris's eyes widen. "So it's not jus' me? Gawds. Thought ah might be bein taken by whate'er made those other mortals mad." He seems almost relieved.
Raphael lets Mikal know that yes, he, too, felt like he sort of vagely understood the kobolds. Or if not understood them, then heard their language before. And he's pretty sure he's never eat-- er, met a kobold before.
Mikal giggles at Raphael! -then looks at the others, "Raph says he felt the same and he's pretty sure he's never met a kobold before." She thinks a moment, chin on her fist where she sits on the big stag's rump, then adds a touch fiercely, "Why can't we remember here then, though? Why can't we remember important stuff like how to stop the spiderwasps?!"
Jareth nods, "I did, Mikal. Felt like I knew a few of the words. I think... we aren't remembering here. This place is dreams, right?"
Ataraxos shakes his head. "I'm afraid I don't know. I do know that with some motals their waking lives come to them in time." He considers. "Maerlyn remembers his Waking life. You might want to ask him about that?"
Mikal scowls at Ataraxos' words, "He'll blame me for everything again if I try to talk to him!" She thinks a bit, then grins sunnily, her eyes sparkling with mischief, "I know! We'll get Jareth to talk to him!"
Norris looks between Jareth and Mikal, and then at the quiet satyr. And then his mouth opens in a small 'o' as Ataraxos speaks up, and then Jareth too. "Mebbe that's it. ALla these folks...kobolds an satyrs and talkinfoxwhatsis...supposedly existed a long time. Mebbe we remembers em cause our dreamin selfs remember em...but that wuz before the wasps, annat." he suggests tenatively.
Jareth laughs and winks at Mikal, "Anything to keep you from hiding from us for a week."
Jareth nods to Norris, "Could be, Nor. I've heard stranger things."
Mikal grins and sticks her tongue out at Jareth! -then giggles, blushing as she turns back to Norris, "So are you saying they used to be in our world too? Our home world?"
Ataraxos smiles quietly. "Maerlyn can be grumpy, yes. Supposedly he's lived more lives than any one mortal, but... that might just be another way of saying he's grumpy."
Norris shrugs, feeling a little foolish. "Ah guess? Just...yannow...throwin an idee out there. Fit the facts. An it feels like...all sortsa stuff running beneath th' surface on my head. Lak ah heered stories about satyrs and Maerlyn, annat. Just on the tip o' my tongue, but not enou' t get more'n a tiny hint of."
Jareth squeezes Norris' shoulder and says, "Nor, don't worry at it. The harder you worry at a thought, the further away it slips. Just let it come to you."
Mikal giggles at Ataraxos -- then nods, still smiling, to Norris, "You'll likely remember it at the silliest time, too -- like in the middle of the night!" She slides herself back into the saddle, swinging a leg around and cheerfully announcing, "All right! Next stop for the night -- or whatever it is here: Alexandria!"
The city could almost be called 'sleepy.' There is a small market for foodstuffs, but any other economy within the city is handled behind closed doors or in the halls of the library. It's fairly clear that the main trade of the city is knowledge and learning, with the library being boasted as being the largest in the Dreamtime. It also seems to be some sort of neutral ground; there are a handful of soldiers in Mordred's livery, but they are not carrying arms; likewise some Alfar in Winter livery, and a few other uniforms that are not immediately recognized. Overall, there is an air of quiet genteel throughout the city, as if in respect for the hundreds of scholars within the library proper.
Norris looks around at people and city with interest. So calm, here. You'd think things weren't going to hell in a hand basket.
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