| Logs |
2011 April 24
| Neverneverwhere |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
 |
| Realms: Taps Logs |
Shades of Truth
The longest and most dangerous part of any caravan crossing is the wide middle part of the continent. To the south, the land is dry and unprofitable in many places and there's the great desert to deal with. Further north there are stretches of prairie that go on for hundreds of miles with settlements few and far between. Even further north, winter goes on for weeks longer than anywhere else. The caravan has taken all three routes, depending on what they have to carry and what they are contracted for, but the middle route is their most common one. The trail that leads across the prairies is the most well-established and stable route as well as the safest... providing travelers stay on the road and don't wander out into the grasslands, which are home to the Amazon tribes. Having Poly and Pippa with the caravan means they are safer than many, though. Sometimes during the grasslands section of a trip, the Amazon shieldsisters head off with Suraksha and disappear into the prairie to visit with their own tribe -- but they always catch up a few days later.
Calling this the safest route, however, doesn't mean the trip is by any means easy. There are herds of bison, deer, elk, and even antelope that roam the prairies -- and with those creatures come the ones the prey on them. Single families often find themselves stranded and in trouble, and the Amazon tribes are not friendly to most of the people that make the crossing. It is not unusual to find the remains of a wagon-train or so where some group of pioneers bit off more than they could chew.
Chanticleer isn't fond of the bright sun, and so spends most of the trip doing night duty -- watches and scouting and the like. Sometimes, of course, he'll be out and about during the day. This is a calmer time for Dominic. He knows the terrain well here, knows it even better now due to his tie to the earth getting stronger. He continues to keep his hand in, though, because now that he's stronger than he was, there's more he can do, ways he can help the caravan that he couldn't possibly do before. Earth moving becomes key, in the hope that he can create crevasses or bulwarks of dirt and stone. While there are no major fault lines crossing the middle of the country, there's nothing protecting them from other things... like flash floods. While he doesn't expect that he's anywhere close to being an elemental master... anything he can do will help and bring him closer to... what, he doesn't know. But he will protect his people any way he can, as much as he can.
This particular crossing has been difficult because it has been a particularly dry year. Many of the streams the caravan is used to using for its water supply have dried up, as have some of the shallower wells that supply travelers along the route. In places they come across scorched areas where wildfires have raged through the grasslands, leaving devastation behind. Chanticleer has tried to keep his use of water to a minimum. At night he's been more attentive to finding water sources, and for keeping an alert eye -- and nose and ears -- for any fires. He's also being attentive to the birds and their chattering. When the issue of water comes up, the first thing that Dominic wants to try is drilling new wells. Unfortunately, they do not manage to meet with any success within Dom's own earth moving capacities. "Now I wish Mary was with us," he murmurs as he's on the road, sweating under his hat and biting back thirst.
Suraksha sighs as she pulls off her hat and wipes her forehead with her forearm, "If wishes were horses, dear... don't forget to fill that in, please, when you're done. Don't want to annoy travelers coming after us." Dominic nods agreeably, and makes sure to clean up after himself... that's even more important when you're earthmoving.
Chanticleer, while he's up at night, helps the others set up oilskins and tarps as dew-catchers to help get a bit more water. Suraksha has been having the caravan pause and rest in the middle of the day, when the heat is greatest. Since they have many night-sighted individuals, the caravan can travel into the night a commensurate amount of time. That's one of the best ways she knows of to keep everyone from losing water too fast. She also sends out the Amazon sisters each night to scout all around for any waterways which are still flowing... and she quietly keeps a worried eye on the caravan's water supplies. She's seen worse droughts, but they're still no fun. She's glad Corbett taught her to always plan for drought while crossing the Great Central Plains. Since his powers cannot get them water, and it certainly seems like Chanti and Suraksha have good ideas on how to make their rations last, Dominic instead focuses on his ongoing training with Ohkwari.
Poly and Pippa rarely come back with good news, but they do occasionally find a stream or well that's still good, some ways off the beaten path. One one such trip they come back with news not of a stream, but of what looks like the remains of a wagon train. "It's still smoking," Pippa reports. "Can't tell if it was an attack of pure bad luck from this far off."
Suraksha frowns in silent concern, glancing around from where she's standing on a wagon. "What trace of attackers, then? Also, any survivors?"
Chanticleer rouses himself at the report of the wagon train. "Should we send a party to check it out?" he asks quietly. "If they're not too far off, I mean."
Poly says, "The area around it isn't burned. Well, not very far. It doesn't look like a wildfire. We didn't get close enough to really see much more than that." Pippa says, "Once we get up on it, we might want to have some folks beat the bushes around to see if anyone went to ground."
Suraksha looks puzzledly at Poly, "Wait... the wagons are burned, but the ground isn't?" She considers for a bit again, her gaze sweeping the horizons for any observers. Finally she murmurs, "Sounds like they offended the local tribes by leaving the safe-route." She looks back at the Amazon sisters expectantly, waiting for them to tell her what tracks left the area. Dominic is just quietly listening to the report, waiting on Sura's call on what to do.
Chanticleer says quietly, "Probably. Unless there's unusual animals around, and the fire was an accident -- a lantern dropped, for example -- when they were attacked. But that's just clueless speculation on my part."
The Amazon sisters both shake their heads. "Didn't get close enough to see any tracks. There's some scorched ground around the wagons, but not much from what we saw," Pippa says. "The tribe that controls this area is less friendly than most, so it might have been them getting off the path. Just in case, Poly and I should stay close to the caravan to make sure we don't get bushwhacked."
Suraksha sighs, turning her worried gaze from the horizon to the people standing around them. "If we're sending out someone to check on this burned wagon train I'd rather you and Poly were with them, Pippa. Staying on the path is safe; it's the expedition heading off the path that'll be in danger. Plus you two and I are the only folks who speak your tongue... and I don't speak it that fluently. Better to have you two with the searchers, I'm thinking." She frowns, checking with Del on the condition of the animals... then simply shakes her head, "It's getting late. Let's stop and rest a bit while the expedition is off searching. Any volunteers?"
Pippa nods, "That's true. We'll go along with the folks that will be checking things out."
Chanticleer nods, "I'll go."
Dominic steps up. "Me too. It's not like you need me here."
Suraksha nods gravely to the two men, "All right. Be careful, you two. If Poly and Pippa tell you it's time to leave, do what they tell you!" She looks at the two Amazons, adding, "Can you two beat the underbrush around the caravan while Chanticleer and Dominic are checking out the wagon train? Also, check with Sabrina for some blankets in case you find survivors. You can double up on the horses on the way back if necessary." She thinks a bit, then adds quietly, "You all know the routine. Keep yourselves safe first and foremost. Help those you can, but don't get killed doing it. If there are badly wounded animals, give them a humane death. Stay quiet, stay in contact, and come back safe and sound to us, all right?"
Chanticleer nods to Suraksha, smiling quietly. "We'll be fine. We'll come back at the first sign of trouble."
Dominic smiles under his beard. "I'll make a special point of not dying. You, Chanti?"
Chanticleer grins to Dominic. "No, that's not in the plan."
Dominic nods sagely and looks at Sura. "See? We've even got a plan."
Suraksha nods in return, although she's not smiling -- she knows how dangerous the Great Plains are, for multiple reasons. She turns back to the rest of the caravaneers, helping everyone get settled for the night. Poly and Pippa grin and give each other a high-five; Poly turns to the two men and raises an eyebrow, "You're not mounted yet, slowpokes!" Pippa is already darting off on her pony, a delighted, high-trilling call coming from her lips as she drops the reins and pulls her bow to string it.
Chanticleer rolls his eyes a little in amusement at Pippa's competitiveness, and moves to mount up Chevrefoil. Dominic doesn't spare another quip, and grabs blankets before getting to horse. He makes sure to keep the supplies himself, so the other three can be unburdened in case a fight breaks out. Once Dominic is mounted, Poly leans over from horseback and casually grabs his reins, "Hold on! We're going to speed things up a bit." She knows the fleet-footed stag can keep up easily, so she simply turns and heads at a gallop after Pippa, drawing Dominic's pony after her. Dominic is so glad he's gotten used to Poly pulling this stunt, and grips tightly at his mount's flanks with his knees, ducking into the wind.
On the fleet-footed ponies and the fae stag they're able to reach the site of the wagon-train's demise much more quickly than if the whole caravan had come along. As Poly said, there is some scorched area around the group of six circled wagons, making a ragged perimeter, but it didn't take off across the plains as so many fires do in a dry season. There are several dead oxen and a mule or two inside the circle of vehicles. There's also a good dozen or so human bodies. Crows and buzzards have already gathered to what is, for them, a veritable feast. Arrows sprout from most of the bodies -- or rather, the remains of arrows. The fletching and shafts have been scorched black. Around the circled wagons is a muddle of prints. The grass is crushed flat in places, as if animals have stampeded through, and there are a few smaller trails that look like lone people have run off into the prairie.
Once they've arrived Poly drops Dominic's reins with an amused grin over her shoulder at the tense young man. The Amazon shieldsisters then whirl their ponies in a gallop once about the perimeter of the wagons, bows out and arrows knocked as they check for anyone hostile... then Pippa calls cheerfully to the two men, "We're going to beat the bushes -- you two check out the wagons, all right? We'll be back in a bit!"
Dominic just looks wryly at Poly... he's a fair rider, but he wasn't raised and trained on horseback like the Amazons. Getting off his pony, he gives the mess he sees before him careful consideration. He can't be angry at the carrion eaters. They're also a part of the circle of life, and need food -- and it's not like he knew these people personally. Still, he shoos the birds off as he checks each body... he doesn't care to see them eat while he does his work.
Chanticleer makes a quiet sound as he sees the arrows. "Definitely not animals. Do the Amazons give distinctive fletching to their arrows?" Some of the sidhe troops do that; there are a few contests at festivals that involve the prettiest arrow fletching, or the most distinctive -- any excuse for a party. A few troops have fletching so distinctive as to warrant a school of heraldry.
Poly nods, easily sitting her pony's canter as she circles, her hands free of the reins. She holds up an arrow, nock upwards, "We do. No unburnt ones there, though. See you both soon!" She knees the pony, and it darts off into the underbrush, following one of the trails.
Chanticleer murmurs, "Never thought I'd refer to fire as 'merely' inconvenient. All right. Let's stick together and see what we can find." Dominic nods grimly in response. He doesn't expect to find life here... but if it seems like any are still conscious and dying a slow death, he makes sure to point them out to Chanti... he's not really up to dealing death blows, even merciful ones. Chanticleer starts to go through the wagons and the surrounding area, though the scorched earth has burned away most of the places to hide in the grass.
Nothing inside the circle of wagons is still alive, aside from the carrion eaters. There are some supplies in a few of the wagons that might be salvaged and perhaps added to the caravan's stores. The water barrels have been either hacked open or burned, though they obviously didn't do much to stop the fire. Further out, the Amazons find signs that a few lone people ran away from the circle. Most of those tracks are paired with drag marks which indicate something was dragged back to the wagons from where they end. There are one or two tracks that look like they might go out further into the grasslands where someone might have escaped. Poly looks thoughtful as she comes cantering slowly back, "Weird... usually Amazons just leave bodies lie, rather than bringing them back." She looks up towards where Pippa is still following another trail some distance away, then nods to the two men, "We're almost done -- just a few more trails to follow." She canters off down another one.
Dominic just shakes his head at the lost water... while he wouldn't wish death on anyone, something added to the water reserves would have been nice. He has to figure it's more likely the dead caravaneers did it themselves -- he can't imagine anyone deliberately wasting water, save for in an emergency. Fortunately, with him around the caravan can put out the fires with earth. He does grab those few things of value, though, and loads up his patient mount. Chanticleer spends more time looking for survivors than finding anything of value. He frowns as he looks at the bodies. "They would have scattered. If the Amazons didn't return the bodies to the burning caravan... who did?" He nods to the tracks that show someone dragging something to the caravan. "What happened here?"
Dominic shakes his head as he pulls a bag from a wagon. "Clear as mud, to me." He pauses. "Actually, scratch that. I understand mud. I can deal with mud. Mud and I work together."
Chanticleer examines the tracks associated with the dragging of bodies back to the caravan. He frowns. "Dom, this smells like a trap to me. Why do you drag bodies of the people you killed back to the caravan they came from? Just to keep the battlefield nice and tidy?"
Dominic tucks something into a saddlebag. "Maybe they weren't killed here. Maybe it's not so much a trap as... hiding evidence -- making people think they were ambushed here," he muses. "Is there a lot of blood? Do we know for sure they were killed here?"
Chanticleer says, "They weren't killed far from here. These tracks only go a short way into the surrounding area, so the bodies were dragged back."
It's the final and least-burned wagon where Dom makes the biggest discovery. As he's looking into the bed of the vehicle there's a rustle and a squeak, followed by a flash of calico disappearing under a soot-stained piece of canvas. Chanticleer perks up. "H-hey!" he calls out, then, "oh, damn," he murmurs, "a child. Dom, you did really well with Diana and Mary; could you...?"
Dominic tenses at the squeak, hand going to his knife at first... but at Chanti's comment the young man realizes the sidhe has the right of it. "Yeah," he murmurs, taking off his hat and crouching to look less intimidating. "Hey... don't be afraid. We're here to help, hey? No one's gonna hurt you any more," he soothes carefully. He doesn't make a move for the canvas, waiting to see if he can get whoever it is to come out.
There's no more sound when Dominic speaks, but there is a little shifting of the canvas, as if someone is trying to get further beneath it. Chanticleer is inwardly tensing. What are the odds? Even so, children escape the notice of attackers not infrequently; they're capable hiders -- and perhaps, if found, an attacker would decline to kill one... then again, he has no idea. He was never on such a raiding party. Thank Titania.
Dominic looks at Chanti, his brow knitting. Whoever it is has gotten more than a good chance to see them, and know they're not Amazons... but then, they did arrive with Poly and Pippa. There's no evidence of anything being anything yet, but... "Come on out. I bet you're really hot and tired and thirsty. Hmm? I bet some water would go down real well right now. This sun's really beating down, huh?" he coaxes, pulling out a water canteen and giving it a slosh. He puts it on the ground and takes a few steps away.
Silence reigns, and Dom quickly realizes asking them to come completely out of the wagon is a little too much. So... he finds an old tin cup, puts some water in... and sets it at the edge of the wagon within reach of the canvas, trying to look all innocent. Taking big steps back. Chanticleer nods, and moves out of sight -- noisily -- of the wagon's entrance. He is, however, keeping an eye out for any movement in the grass or nearby. This is still really bothering him.
A few minutes later a hand creeps out from beneath the canvas and gropes around until it finds the cup, then snatches the cup back under the covering. It's a small hand, tanned nut-brown and streaked with soot, with a blue calico sleeve at the wrist -- complete with a small ruffle that looks like it was probably white once. Dominic's heart breaks a little. "There's more here, if you want it... but you have to give me back the cup -- and you have to say please," he urges the hidden figure. If he can get them to talk, that's progress.
There's sounds of noisy gulping under the canvas and a moment or two of quiet before the hand reappears, pushing the cup with it. The fingers are trembling a little as a voice comes from under the canvas, "P-please?" It's definitely a little girl's voice, though it sounds hoarse.
The only movement Chanticleer is seeing out on the grasslands are the shieldsisters checking out the trails. Chanticleer lets out a breath as he hears that tiny voice, tears welling up in his eyes. It's no damn fair to get children involved in this sort of thing. He's glad all he can see are the two Amazons out there; he was, admittedly, worried this was a trap. But why did they drag the bodies back?
Dominic carefully pours in a little more water. "That's good, darling. You're a polite girl. What's your name? My name is Dominic," he encourages, stepping back again, but not as far away.
This time a head accompanies the hand, though she stays under the canvas for the most part. She holds the cup in both hands and gulps down the water, licking her lips before she stutters, "P-p-pearl."
Dominic goes back into a crouch. "Pearl. That's a very pretty name for a very polite girl," he smiles, considering what to say next. "Is this your caravan, Pearl? We were going to salvage some stuff from it, but that wouldn't be right to just take it, if it belongs to you."
The face is as soot-smudged as the hands, and the blue eyes are as wide as saucers. Sandy brown hair was once in a pair of neat plaits, but they're less than smooth now, with wisps coming out in all directions. She shakes her head at his question, "Doesn't belong to me. I'm too little to own much."
Dominic decides not to point out that anyone else who owned it before doesn't now. "Still, it's the right thing to do: to ask permission. Can't ask you to be polite if I'm not going to do it too," he murmurs. Then he lights up, like he just had a great idea. "You know, by salvage law the fact that you're in the caravan means the stuff is yours. Maybe you'd be willing to sell it to me? In exchange for a ride to the next town?"
Pearl is still clutching the cup in both hands as she thinks about that. She chews on her lower lip and asks anxiously, "W-what about those women?"
Dominic smiles reassuringly. "We have our own women to talk peace. I don't know what bad things you've seen, Pearl, but we've been trekking over these plains a while. We're not going to get in any trouble with the locals. Even if we do, wouldn't you rather be with people that can protect you?" Chanticleer bites his lip, feeling more fidgety the longer they're there. It's starting to draw down dark, and when the two Amazons return Pearl is going to be even more anxious. Out on the prairie there are cheerful whistles and yipping noises tossed back and forth between the two Amazons. They seem to be circling back towards the abandoned, burned wagon train.
The girl's bottom lip trembles and her eyes fill with tears, "The grown-ups c-couldn't stop the women before..."
Dominic fishes out a hankie and offers it to little Pearl. "Pearl, I promise you... none of those women are going to hurt you," he says firmly. He puts his hand on the earth and gives it a little nudge of encouragement. Where she can see, the dirt raises, forming a crude heart shape. "Cross my heart and hope to die," he says, dragging his finger through the dirt heart. "Well, not really. I mean, the whole point is to not die -- right, Pearl?" he grins.
Pearl sniffles and her eyes widen again as she watches the heart-shape raise up from the earth. She clutches the tin cup to her chest as if it were a teddy bear, "You swear? You'll protect me?"
Chanticleer moves towards Dominic and murmurs quietly, "They're coming back. We should bring Pearl back to the caravan. I'll go and try to get them to not come closer; it might startle her." He moves towards the Amazons, waving to get their attention, hopefully some distance from the wagon so Pearl isn't startled. He'll explain to them what's going on. Pippa continues her relaxed canter about the outer perimeter of the wagon-train, keeping an eye out for predators in the growing twilight. Poly stops to listen to Chanticleer, then simply nods. With some whistles and gestures, she communicates with her shieldsister, and neither of them come in close yet. Chanticleer thanks Poly, relieved, and moves back to the burned caravan, with Dominic.
Dominic puts his hand over his heart, and nods... and then reaches out with his smallest finger, remembering when he did the same with Diana. "Pinky swear," he says solemnly.
A tiny hand reaches out and crooks a pinkie with Dominic's. Pearl nods solemnly, "O-okay. I'll trade you whatever stuff you find here for a ride and p-protection."
Dominic grins. "Miss Pearl, you got yourself a deal," he murmurs, looking pleased. He looks for Chanti and gives the sidhe the thumbs up. "Brokered a deal with Miss Pearl, here. She just bought passage with the caravan," he informs Chanti with all seriousness.
Chanticleer nods soberly, then smiles a little. "We should get back to our own caravan, then -- and soon." He inclines his head. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Pearl."
The girl creeps out from under the canvas completely. She's wearing a blue calico dress with what used to be a white apron; there's a coal scuttle bonnet hanging down her back by its ties. She ducks her head to Chanticleer in greeting. Dominic makes quick work of the contents of the wagon, letting Pearl wait for him on his pony. Lifting her up into the saddle like she was a lady, after making sure she's okay with it. Not wanting to wait around, as soon as he's done he signals to Chanti. "Let's beat feet."
Chanticleer explains to Pearl, "We have some members of our caravan helping us. They've been traveling with us for years. They're Amazons, but they had nothing to do with the attack on your caravan, I promise."
As soon as the two men start to mount up, the Amazon shieldsisters come trotting over. Pippa grins cheerfully at the girl, "Hi there! I'm Pippa. What's your name, girl?"
Pearl peeks out from behind Dom and squeaks, "I-I'm c-called Pearl." She's hugging Dominic very tightly -- clinging really.
Pippa laughs, waving as she canters past to take the lead, "Pretty name!"
Poly rides behind; the girl seems frightened enough that the Amazon will forbear taking Dominic's reins again. Slow but steady will doubtless calm the poor child down. Dominic would have to agree...they won't make as good time, but it's the better idea. "You see? I told you it was a pretty name," he comments to his charge, and they get under way.
As they start back for the caravan Pearl holds on tight to Dominic. He can feel she's stick-thin, as many people trying to make it cross-country are by this stage in their travels -- especially in a dry season. The Amazons point out the faint glow on the horizon of where the caravan is encamped, and keep folks moving that way. Since he can see in the dark, they ask Chanticleer to help keep an eye out around them as well. Once they're back on the trail a fog seems to come up, making it hard to see very far in any direction. Dominic shakes his head. "Fog. Why is it always fog. Well, I suppose it's not all bad... that's moisture, at least."
Chanticleer frowns a little. "Fog? Isn't that... no, I think that is unusual for the plains." He looks to the Amazons, "But if you aren't concerned..." The glow of the caravan is still visible, gleaming through the fog. "All right, I'll try to find our way back. As long as we keep in the same direction as we were when we started..." When Chanti looks, he realizes he can't actually see the Amazons. He grimaces. "All right, so much for that... let's keep quiet, Dom. It occurs to me that sound will give us away more than sight right now, and I'm hoping that actually is the caravan we're heading towards, and not something like foxfire or such."
Dominic looks at Chanti grimly -- such a cheerful prospect. "Can't you tell?"
Chanticleer shakes his head. "It's hard to tell, especially with this fog. It looks like the same glow the Amazons pointed out to us, but I'm not seeing them now -- so we may be on the wrong track. Let's keep quiet and move forward. If they're foxfire, we won't know it until we're on top of it." [And if they're will-o'-the-wisps, we won't know until they lead us into whatever trap they've set for us.]
Dominic purses his lips. "Miss Pearl... is any of this familiar to you? Did you encounter fog and lights?" he queries, craning his head.
Pearl whispers, sounding nervous, "Are we lost?"
As she speaks, the light they were heading toward abruptly goes out. Chanticleer mutters, "That cuts it. Get down, as low and small as you can, and don't make a sound. I don't think we're lost so much as someone or something's trying to make us lost. But we can get through this with some patience."
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