Level up!

XP (2500) -> XP (0)

Level (9) -> Level (10)

Warrior (4) -> Warrior (5)

HP (92) -> HP (104)

Attacks (1) -> Attacks (2)

Otherworlder Feature Unlocked!

Proficiencies Gained: Perception, Survival

Adam awoke in the morning, regaining all his health and his strength back, his skills recharging, his Mana at maximum, and his Omen recharged.

Omen

11, 20

What great rolls! Today was going to be a great day it seemed. He took a dip in the nearby river, the cold waking him up quickly. When he returned to the village he could see Lazina, her angelic voice filling the air as everyone made to eat. The breakfast was a meat soup, bread, and a large platter of fruit and vegetables.

“We’ll be heading out soon,” Paul said. “After breakfast we’ll guide the children along. They’ll take turns on the cart and wagon in order to allow us to continue on the same pace.”

“How long until the Iyr?” Adam asked.

“Four days, if all goes well.”

“Let’s hope it does.”

“The next village is only about a day away, we should be able to manage to arrive by the end of the day.”

With that the group began to pack up and make their way onward, half the teens sitting in the cart and wagon, though Adam did find it a little weird that they were sitting near a dead body. It was a little awkward, but Adam stopped thinking about it after a while when he noticed it didn’t seem as though they minded so much.

They travelled for a long while throughout the day, taking two hours for lunch since they encountered no trouble on their journey. The rest of the day went by uneventfully too.

Lazina would sometimes hum to herself, playing with the children and speaking with them. Adam and her brought up the rear, with Alten and Robert on either flank. Lazina remained somewhat between Adam and Alten considering she was speaking with the children and playing with them.

Paul stopped them after a while and then looked around. He didn’t say anything, but he drew his blade. With that, Robert and Alten drew their weapons, and Adam put on his shield. Lazina remained near the children, reaching for her flute. Adam clenched the wizard’s die in his hand.

Paul led them onward, slowly and as silently as he could, like a panther. Of course Robert and Adam made it so they weren’t quite so quiet, but the mules would also sometimes break their silence.

“Damn,” Paul said as they rounded their way towards the village.

It was as still as death. No one was to be seen, and the normal lively signs of a village were long gone. Yet not that long gone, apparently.

“This happened recently,” Paul said, glancing down at the ground.

Survival

D20 + 4 = 22 (18)

Success!

There were a large number of tracks leading onward, and yet there was nothing too out of the ordinary. The depth of the tracks and the number of people heading out, with their carts and mules, were about the same size as this village.

“They migrated away?” Adam said.

“Looks like it,” Paul replied.

“Why would they leave their village?” Robert said.

“I can tell you,” came a voice from the village. Within the centre was an old woman walking towards them.

Adam jolted, for she looked like a villainous witch, with her skin like folded pastries, though cracked as though they were old pastries, with a large number of black spots all over. Her eyes were open, barely, for it seemed they were heavy with age to the point she could barely see through them.

Paul walked over to her slowly. “Witch,” he said, “what happened here?”

“It’s been some time, Paul. You look well.”

“You as well, though I had expected you to croak last year.”

“I’m not that old.”

“You are that old.”

“Well nevermind that, come for some tea. I see you have children with you, are they yours?”

“I’m not a child,” called Thunderhammer. “I am already smith-grown!”

“You are all children to me,” she said as she spied the elf. “Even this one is my junior,” she said with a large toothy smile, her teeth suspiciously white.

Soon they were all gathered around in the centre of the village, the late afternoon sun casting a sad glow across the village. Many chairs and a couple of tables were brought out to make a small picnic like atmosphere, though it was much darker.

“There came a stranger last year,” the old woman said, “dressed all in black, dressed like the starless night. That alone had caused me great discomfort, but these are the dresses of those far from the East, and the man had dark skin as though he was from a place. Not dark-dark, but light-dark, like those within Red Oak. He had come and stayed with us for a week, telling us all kinds of stories, and spending all sorts of gold.” She smiled at that.

“Then he spoke of a prophecy, and gave us a warning. He said that the area was soon to be overrun, by undead and by monstrous creatures, and that we should start packing to leave soon. He did not want gold or any such things for his prophecy, he immediately left the day after.”

“What happened?” Paul asked.

“Three days ago, a banshee came.”

Paul straightened up. “A banshee?”

“The wailing creatures of spite,” the woman said. “One had come, floating through and killing half our village. Men, women, children. We could not bury them, and so we burnt most of them some ways away, and this morning everyone left.”

“Did you have no power over her?”

“I tried what powers I had, but I had been in my small hut nearby, and it had taken me a short while to retrieve my items.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Paul said.

The woman handed out tea to all. Adam stared down at the dark brew, and being the British man he was, he sipped on the warm, slightly too hot liquid. It was a weak tea, with a little bit of honey. It was fine tea, which was what most tea was, except for tea made in the microwave. He cringed at the thought of it, of those suffering from such a malady that they would think to brew tea in a microwave.

It was heresy of the highest order, but he knew there were people who did not live in such proper ways. In fact there were even countries that charged woman to give birth, several thousands of pounds to give birth to your own child, and they had the audacity to charge a mother to hold their own child. He shook his head and continued to drink his tea.

“Do you not enjoy it?” the woman asked, appearing before him as he opened his eyes.

“Oh no, I mean yes, I mean, no, I do enjoy it,” Adam spluttered out.

“Good,” she said with a smile. “Then you have something on your mind.”

“A few things,” he said.

“Do you wish to speak of them?”

“They are problems of old, from a world long behind me. They no longer bother me, but to think they could happen even in the past, perhaps they could happen in the future.”

“It is the way of man, to repeat the cycles given to us, as ordained by the gods. I see you follow Belle, the god of Chaos.”

“I wouldn’t say I follow him, but that he has given me much strength in my time.”

“I follow a god by the name of Belle as well, though he is of a different persuasion. The god of Order.”

“That’s confusing.”

“It is, isn’t it? Though isn’t that how it should be?”

Adam blinked. “I suppose so?”

The old witch smiled and then returned back to her seat, allowing the British man his peace with drinking his tea. If only he had a biscuit, then all the worries would melt away.

Lazina did not sing that evening, as the peoples brought out beds to sleep under the stars. The village walls were brought up, and the adults took watch.

“I’d like to take first or last watch,” Adam said. He didn’t like his sleep being interrupted, and being a mage, they allowed him such a fortune. Lazina was given a watch too, that way each member could sleep for a little longer than if it were just four people on watch.

Adam was allowed first watch, and so he looked over the village. It was deathly silent, save for the light snoring of the people nearby. Thunderhammer was awake as of yet, sitting down and looking out to the stars. Adam left her to her thoughts, glancing all about the area.

“What are you thinking about?” Thunderhammer eventually asked, her voice a whisper, or as much of a whisper a dwarven voice could be.

“Nothing in particular, you?”

“Home.”

“Do you miss it.”

“A little.”

“What happened?” Adam asked her.

“I was knocked out, bound, blinded, gagged. After a while I was part of a caravan, and then they handed me over to Balrog.”

“Did you hear about their plans?”

“No.”

“Are you okay?”

“They didn’t really do anything. They fed us, sometimes they’d let us walk around, otherwise we were told to remain quiet and to ourselves.”

“How long ago was it?”

“About three months.”

“Well, we’ll make sure you get to home sooner or later. Thundersmith is in Red Oak, I’m sure he’ll be glad to get a visit from you.”

She smiled.

“Do you miss home?” she asked.

“I do.”

“Why don’t you go back?”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“It’s gone.”

“Gone?”

Adam nodded.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Why are you sorry?”

“It’s sad to not be able to go home.”

“There’s a sadness in that, but there’s always the other side of that coin. Now I can adventure and explore the world without limits, because I have no home that I can go back to.”

“You could make your own home.”

“I could, one day.”

She remained silent, looking up into the stars. She closed her eyes. Her breath then became near silent as she fell asleep.

Adam eventually woke up Lazina, telling her that was nothing out of the ordinary, before he finally fell asleep.

Morning had come far too quickly. He had dreamt of nothing and so it felt as though he had merely travelled straight through time. Everyone was able to bathe by the nearby river, though Paul walked up to him.

“Would you mind warming the water?” he asked.

Adam was a little confused for a moment, raising his brow.

“With your Flame Missile.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

With that he brought a basin over and then filled it with water, and soon everyone else had done so once Adam revealed he could warm up the baths. Adam decided he may as well have a hot bath as well and then he sighed.

“I hope the next time we adventure you’ll have learnt that spell,” Paul said with a wink.

“I’ll be sure to learn it.” Adam smiled.

Soon they were all preparing to leave, Paul filling up his pouch with fresh food that was still growing nearby, mostly in part due to the witch.

“Are you sure you don’t want to join us?” Paul asked.

“I am certain,” she said, sadly. “Someone needs to make sure the spirits of the villagers continue their journey.” She looked out to the distance. “I have made a promise to a great many of the men, women and children. I cannot break that now, not even at the threat of my life.”

“Don’t die just yet, I’ll be sure to send some people this way.”

“You’re a good boy,” the witch said as she reached up. Paul bowed his head to let her pat his head.

With that they continued along the path. Lazina’s voice accompanied their journey as they continued. Yet the journey was somber in mood, after hearing what had happened in the village, no one could truly keep their mood up.

Adam wondered if the witch would be alright. The prophecy had said that there would be more undead and monstrous creatures about, yet only a banshee had appeared. There was a tingling sensation on the back of his neck, but he tried to think beyond it.

Lunch had been a hearty meal, in no small part thanks to the witch’s vegetables. Adam had only just realised he didn’t know her name, but since no one else seemed bothered by such a notion, he didn’t bring it up.

“Keep your wits about you,” Paul said as they continued along their way. “The witch said the place would be overrun by monsters and undead, we should take that to heart.”

“The witch didn’t say that,” Robert said. “It was the stranger in black, an Easterner.”

“Easterner or not, he was partly right. A banshee would be quite an issue for us, the children especially.”

“I’m not a child,” Thunderhammer growled out. “Give me a hammer and I’ll take good care of myself.”

Paul stopped and then turned back to look at her. He threw a look along each of them and then nodded. “Fine,” he said as he then went to grab some weapons from the wagon. “I’m not sure if they’re cursed or not, but you should be able to defend yourselves. Here, some daggers and axes. That’s the best we’ve got.”

Pretty much everyone took an axe, save for the elf who had plucked the dagger and stared at it long and hard. He took two more and kept them close to himself.

He seemed far too eager to have so many daggers, but Adam didn’t think too much of it. Having a weapon to defend yourself was a security that was only afforded to some people, though many more needed such security.

Eventually there was a rustle in the distance and Paul stopped everyone. He drew his sword, and once more everyone prepared themselves, this time with the teens also armed. The rustling continued, and then ahead of them, bursting through the brushes, was a boar that charged from their left to their right. It continued on, leaving them alone.

Then darting past were a few men and women, bows and axes in hand. They noticed the strangers and stopped chasing the boar, instead their eyes darting around before they rested on Paul.

There were five of them, tall and strong. Three men and two women, each with dark hair and dark eyes. They wore heavy furs, all different from one another.

“Paul,” a woman said, axe in hand as they eyed up the rest of the party.

“Mirot,” Paul replied.

“Why have you come?” Mirot said as the others bolted away to continue to follow the boar, or that was what Adam assumed.

“I have come to return your nephew.”

Mirot continued to look around and her eyes fell to cart. “So you have,” she said, stowing her axe aside.

“We welcome you, Paul.” She reached over and clasped Paul’s forearm as they shook each other’s arms.

“I am welcome, Mirot of the Iyr.”