《The Trials of The Fallen Paladin》Netherfane

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The two weeks aboard the ship passed quickly. During that time, I wished to say I had got to know the elderly rustic man. But beyond finding out his name was Wulf, which I learnt from one of the sailors in passing, I didn’t learn much.

It didn’t help that I didn’t really want to spend too much time in his presence. After spending so much time with people who cared about cleanliness, it was strange to meet up with such a person as him. He had greasy hair, seldom washed himself or his clothes, so he smelt something awful.

In contrast to his body and clothes, he took great care of his knives. All of them were simple, broad-bladed knives. Their edges were well honed and he spent time each night, even if he had not used them, to clean them and rehone them.

He dedicated half of his satchel to his knives. The other half contained oiled cloth, some talismans, and a mana tool.

Compared to him, Alis and my satchels were overlarge and overfull.

We had food, extra sets of clothes, potions, along with our tent we had slept in during our journey to Rynstowe. Mine also held a series of talismans and mana tools.

When we had shown him what we had packed, he was both surprised and annoyed. All the while muttering this is too much, looking at our multiple sets of clothes. Yet he was eager to play with the mana tools that Celameth had gifted to me for my first trip into the Isles.

The black surcoat with crossed keys, in white, she had gifted to me, remained in the bottom of my satchel. He had left it in there when he saw the colour of it.

It was then I saw the first sign of us being worth something more rather than being a pain.

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From then even though Wulf seldom said much, he uttered some words if he was correcting what we were doing wrong. Still, even then, during the boisterous meals aboard the ship, and the carousing in the evening, he continued to say nothing and contribute nothing. Instead he took random bits of wood and whittled them into obscenely grand pieces of art with his knives.

And despite asking him, repeatedly, what we were meant to be doing, he always ignored such direction questions. Instead, he focused upon whittling all the time.

One evening, just as I was about to get ready to head below decks for our meal, Wulf came up to me. He pointed to the nearby island. From what I could see from the ship, most of the island was surrounded with either cliffs or steep hills. All but in one place where a stream flowed into the sea. In that one place alone did the hills and cliffs form a mud flat.

The ship lowered its anchor. A group of sailors lowered a small rowboat into the sea. As it was now time for us to leave the ship, with its creaking and friendly sailors, I was a bit hesitant. I would now be in the care of that silent man, the one who isolated themselves, and never gave instructions.

Wulf clambered down the rope ladder with far more grace than I had thought possible. Despite my misgivings, I followed him down the ladder. Alis followed after me.

With the three of us in the boat, and with our three satchels, the small boat was dangerously crowded and dangerously overloaded. There was not much more than Alis, or myself, could do but stay still and let Wulf row the boat.

Even though the waves were calm aboard the ship, in this small rowboat, the waves were large.

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The wave’s spray kept splashing over the sides, coating the three of us and our satchels in fine mist after fine mist of salty water. Each time a wave hit, the boat rocked, and I felt like I would end up overboard. I held tight to the sides of the boat with tightly clenched fists.

In return, Alis clung to me.

The salty mist got everywhere, my eyes and mouth, soaking my clothes, and down the back of my clothes. With eyes watering and my mouth uncomfortably filled with salty spray I was willing to curse Aggard for forcing me to travel in such a manner. And was close to swearing I would never again travel in such a way.

Before I had truly worked up my courage to complain to Aggard, the rocking ceased. I blinked heavily a few times, blinking the salt water out of eyes, and looked around me. We were currently in the middle of a stream which ran through the mud flat. Not fearing being thrown overboard I released my death grip on the side of the boat, massaging my hands to welcome blood back into them.

Alis still clung to me, but she was more relaxed now. Her pale freckled face, calmer now than it had been earlier when it had been strained with worry.

Up the stream Wulf rowed deeper into the centre of the island. We soon passed through the outer layer of cliffs and steep hills. Beyond that, in the centre of the island, was a large flat grassy plain, dotted with bushes and small copses of trees. The fact I could see the entire hill and cliff ring around the outside showed just how small this island was. Ahead of us the stream flowed out of a central hill which seemed too regular and domelike to be natural.

Vibrant green grass covered the central hill and formed a ring around the hill where no bushes or trees grew. By the time we had reached halfway toward the stream’s spring, the stream was narrow enough that Wulf’s oars caught in the plant growth alongside the stream.

Using his oar as a pole, he pushed us to one side of the stream and climbed out. Holding the boat still, he motioned his head for the two of us to get out. Alis climbed out first. I passed her our three satchels, then followed them out.

With a surprising strength, Wulf pulled the small boat out of the stream. He left it high on the bank of the stream and walked to a nearby copse of trees.

The grass here was thick and high, easily reaching my waist. We followed Wulf as he easily forced his way through the grass, leaving an easy to follow path for the two of us. It was not until I got closer to the copse of trees we were heading I noticed that the largest of the trees, with their deep green summer canopy, were arranged in a delicate half-moon shape. Smaller saplings and trees surrounded them. These, too, had a summer canopy.

‘Rest here t’night,’ Wulf said, pointing at a circular stone platform only just visible through the thick trunks and younger trees. The platform looked like it was made of the same seamless grey stone the Tower of Trials was made from. ‘T’morrow you two face t’Dungeon o’Netherfane alone.’

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