The Wind from the South

[kleineklementine]

OOC: Tags to @Hungry Hippo . Sorry for the long delay!



The fox watched with curious, bright black eyes. The men were foreigners, new to this land. The had come up from the south, a troop of armed Connlaothians, the fox thought. Though what brought them up here, it wasn't sure. It crouched behind a rock; it was spring and it's white fur was coming in grey, making it more difficult to watch unseen without hiding. The earth was still half frozen, half thawing, blanketed with patches of melting snow and patches of spongy earth. The men complained bitterly about both. But that wasn't what interested the fox.

What interested the fox was what else they were saying. Th fox understood enough Common, and was troubled by what passed between the soldiers. Talk of greater political unrest in their own land. Of the need to move the "camps" outside Connlaoth's borders, so they could continue the "important work" they were doing unhindered. It wasn't a soldier who said this, but an unarmed man in black. A religious man, the fox thought. And what was to be kept in these camps? Mages. That's what the fox heard. And it knew enough of the tense relationship between Connlaothians and their magic-born. More than one mage fled north through the taiga and the tundra to seek refuge in the wild, or in Hyoite. The fox had helped some of them, in their passage. The talk here was troubling indeed.

Having heard enough, the fox turned and started off to return the way it had come. And once it reached the copse of stubby, weather worn pines that provided some shelter from the open expanse of the tundra, the fox changed. As if by magic (and it was, indeed, by magic) the fox changed, mid-stride, into a young woman who was taking off a fox-fur cloak. It was near here that she had left her trust sled dog, Kanut, and a small sledge, disguised much as she had been beneath an enchanted cloth.

Nuna Akkilokopok was so preoccupied by what she had heard - what to think about and, perhaps, what to do about it  - that she did not notice the lone Connlaothians soldier, sent to forage, who had seen the entire transformation. She'd only just heard his cry of, "Witch!" and looked up in time to see him rush her before he'd struck her over the head with the butt of his rifle, and everything went black.

When she woke again, the first thing she was aware of was the pounding in her head. Then of the stiff gag nearly choking her, and certainly keeping her from crying out. Finally, she realized that she was slouched on the cold ground, bound roughly with her arms pulled behind her around a splintery wooden pole. And where was her cloak!?

Cautiously, she opened her eyes. The brief spring day was over. The sky was dark and clear and, above them, a weak aurora danced in the night. It made Nuna think, with a pang, of her sister. But it made the soldiers, she saw, look wary and uneasy. Frightened. But the priest caught sight of her and walked authoritatively over.

"Were you spying on us, witch?" he asked, knowing full well that she wouldn't be able to answer. "You're lucky that Sgt. Collins caught you. When we begin our work here, you can be the first soul that we save."

[Hungry Hippo]

The footprint showed clearly in the snow. Like a tree in an empty field, it stood out like a sore thumb. Crouching down, Garrett examined it more closely. It was impressed deeply into the snow, suggesting the owner of said print was heavy; and yet the distance between steps was that of someone with short legs, so he could not have been very large. And yet it was not the gait of an overweight man, rather the steps had the rigid discipline of a man with military training.

So the weight was most likely armour, and combined with the stranger's short stature it suggested his quarry was a Connlaothian soldier. But what would a Connlaothian military force be doing this far north?

Garrett stood up, and looked up at the sky. There was only an hour or so until night fell, and the prints were relatively fresh, so the soldiers had most likely set up camp somewhere nearby. If they were friendly he could spend the night next to their camp fire. And if not? Well, if they were dangerous they may well be the people who had raided his village, in which case he had unfinished business with them.

His mind made up, he followed the tracks. Half an hour later his decision bore fruit, as he saw the tell-tale sign of camp fire smoke up ahead. Scampering into a nearby copse of trees he scouted out the camp.

It wasn't a large camp. There were two fires surrounded by several tents housing a small troop of soldiers. Just how many soldiers there were Garrett couldn't be sure. There were seven... no, eight soldiers visible from where he was watching, and he assumed there would be plenty more inside the tents.

Four guards stood watch over the camp, one at each cardinal compass point. The one closest to him was huddling under his cloak, shivering violently beneath the biting chill of the wind. His mouth moved with either chattering teeth or mutterings of complaint. Either way he was too distracted to focus on his guard duty.

The most interesting thing about the camp however, was the wooden pole in the centre. Or, namely what was tied to it. A young woman lay unconscious in a frozen puddle of mud, her hands tied to the pole behind her. Unlike the Connlaothians, she was dressed appropriately in furs, so Garrett assumed she was native to the tundra. So why had the soldiers taken her prisoner?

As he was watching her, the woman awoke, drawing the attention of a nearby Connlaothian. Unlike the others, this man wasn't dressed like a soldier. Instead, he was dressed in a black robe. He marched over to his newly awoken prisoner, and stood beside her in conversation.

A plan began to take shape in Garrett's head. Slowly, he stood up and walked over towards the camp. He had been right about the unobservant guard, as he managed to walk straight past him in the dark.

Upon reaching the central camp fire he coughed to announce his presence, and smirked in amusement at the startled yelps of the soldiers. "Good evening sirs," he said, holding his empty hands up to show he was unarmed and friendly. "As you can see it is a cold, dark night, and I have no camp. Perhaps I could prey upon your generosity and spend the night beside the warmth of your fire?"

[kleineklementine]

Two soldiers whirled, aiming their muskets directly at the intruder. They were jumpy in this strange, northern land, and the dancing green lights in the sky only made them more so. So they weren't inclined to just welcome the intruder with open arms to their fire. They were, perhaps, even close to shooting Garrett without another word, when the priest intervened.

The black-clad man entered the scene and placed himself casually between the muskets and Garrett. He didn't tell the soldiers to lower their weapons, however; he could still step aside and let them shoot if need be. The priest's presence, at least, seemed to put the soldiers slightly at ease. And the man in black took the moment to look over Garrett in silence before speaking. He was large - much larger than the average Connlaothian - but otherwise looked like he could be from southern regions. That could mean many things, he thought. A refugee? An escaped mage? The son of criminals fled long ago to the north?

"You may share our fire for the night, yes," the priest finally said, his voice calm and in control, but cautious. "But tell us: where do you hail from? You don't have the same look as the spy we found here earlier."

And with that, he gestured - ever so casually - to Nuna. Perhaps as a threat to Garrett, to say: Tread on our hospitality, step out of line, and we will not hesitate to do the same to you.

[Hungry Hippo]

Nervously eyeing the muskets pointed at his chest, Garrett realised he might have made a mistake. His father had often reprimanded him for being too bold when hunting large animals, and sneaking into a camp full of soldiers was definitely up there with the more stupid of his ideas.

He was worried that the soldiers might even shoot him, but fortunately the man dressed in black intervened. The man looked at him before speaking, which reminded Garrett of a snow leopard examining potential prey, deciding whether or not he was a worthwhile target.

When he declared that Garrett was in fact welcome beside their fire he let out a quiet sigh of relief. But the thinly veiled threat reminded him that he would be under close guard.

Taking a moment to think about the question he had been asked, Garrett decided that the truth couldn't hurt. "I come from a small village, just north of the Kilanthro Mountains. My grandfather always claimed we were large because we're descended from giants, which would explain why I have a different look to your, err, spy that you found."

Remembering the Connlaothian dislike for all things magical he realised that claiming descent from giants probably wasn't the smartest move. The soldiers were jumpy enough already, he didn't want to give them more reason to shoot. "I'd take that with a pinch of salt though, I think it's more likely that my ancestors' simply hail from somewhere else, where the people are taller."

Looking around casually, he decided to carefully test the boundaries of his new found friendship with the Connlaothian. "If it isn't too bold for me to ask, what exactly was it that your prisoner did? A young woman like her doesn't seem much of a danger, especially to experienced soldiers such as yourselves."

[kleineklementine]

"You can never judge a witch by her appearance," the priest cautioned. But he didn't seem interested in pursuing the conversation much farther. Instead, he gestured to the nearer fire where a cook was preparing rations for the soldiers. "Please, join our fire, stay out of the cold. After you've had something to eat, I'd be very interested to hear your impressions of this land. As you can see, we're strangers here ourselves."

From her position in the center of the camp, bound and gagged, Nuna watched the priest welcome the gargantuan stranger. At least he didn't look like one of the Connlaothians. She couldn't help but wonder if he was friend or foe. She'd gotten herself out of scrapes before, but this one had her nervous. She knew what the Connlaothians thought of magic, and she'd heard what they were planning...

[Hungry Hippo]

"Thank you for your hospitality," said Garrett as he sat down beside the fire. The soldiers still eyed him suspiciously, but at least they weren't pointing their guns at him anymore. "It will be good to have some company with my food. It can get quite lonely out here in the tundra."

Glancing over at the prisoner, he wandered what it was that the Connlaothians planned to do with her. From what he had heard about the Connlaothian mistrust of magic, he doubted she had done much more than display a small amount of magical ability. And for that she would probably receive a lifetime in one of their notorious mage camps.

"What exactly do you want to know about this land?" he asked, looking back at the man in black. "It might not look like much at first glance, but there's more to it than just unending snow, I promise." He smiled to himself. "I think it's quite a beautiful place actually; in a harsh, unforgiving kind of way."

[kleineklementine]

"Unforgiving, you say," the priest answered. "But forgiveness is exactly what we hope to bring to this land. And we will. It is spiritual work that we come to undertake. Our nation, as I'm sure you've heard, has been ravaged by war. Waged by the likes of that one," he said, nodding to Nuna. "Mages and witches and magic-users. But here, away from that, we will establish peace. And bring salvation to the war's weary sinners."

[Hungry Hippo]

“Peace and salvation, a worthy cause I’m sure.” Garrett decided not to question the fact that their prisoner looked like someone from the north and not a ‘sinner’ from Connlaoth. He doubted that mattered much to them.

Glancing around the camp, he noticed how unprepared they were for the northern climate. They didn’t have enough furs, the horses that pulled their carts were not suited to walking through the tundra, and the soldiers were spending most of the time staring nervously at the aurora rather than doing anything productive.

He didn’t particularly like this overzealous priest and his soldiers, but a job’s a job, and he was running low on coin. “Where are you headed exactly? Seeing as I know this land better than you I could perhaps help you find your way there. For a small price of course.”

[kleineklementine]

"Yes, they are," the priest agreed, smiling thinly at Garrett. He listened to Garrett's suggestion with a calm, attentive, thoughtful expression: a skill honed in every priest. But the giant man's offer certainly did intrigue him. If the man could lead them to somewhere suitable, it could save the party a lot of time and effort. Of course, once he had led them to such a place, they couldn't possibly let someone leave knowing the location of the Church's great works.

But what was the taking of one life, in such a holy endeavor? An endeavor that would, if successful, save the souls of hundreds or thousands? And generations of souls thereafter?

"We are simply looking for a suitable place to set up our work," he finally answered. "Somewhere suitable for a humble, semi-permanent settlement. Beyond our borders and the war that ravages our land, but not so far that we cannot return. When the war is over." Or, more importantly, not so far that caravans of captive mages couldn't make the journey. "If you know of such a palce and can lead us there, we will happily pay you. Of course. But the price will have to be decided with the military commander. I'm only a priest. Why don't you make yourself comfortable for the night - you're free to use one of our tents - and we can discuss the matter further in the morning?"

[Hungry Hippo]

"A place for a settlement? There is a small, relatively sheltered valley a few days from here which might be suitable." Or at least it would be for a few more months until the snows started to fall again, and the valley would be burried beneath the heavy blizzards known to hit the area.

But by then he would be long gone, and the loss of a mage camp would hardly weigh heavily on his conscience. And besides, he hardly trusted this priest to keep to his word. He'd met his type before, and expected he might have to watch his back as his job came to completion.

Smiling his thanks at the offer of a tent, he held out his hand to shake. "Then I look forward to working with you. My name is Garrett by the way."

[Garrick]

^{Apologies for the necro, but aside from starting my own plot, this seemed the easiest to insert Al'shir into. Hoping we could get this thread going again!}

A pair of faint, red, glowing eyes peered out of the darkness at the camp. They watched in silence as the large man walked casually past the guard. How easy it would be for him to enter the camp, if so large a man could do it without drawing attention.

He crept closer to the camp's border, keeping himself between the two guards closest to him, all but those with the keenest eyes would be useless to spot his approach. Al'shir seemed to draw darkness to his very body, making him nearly invisible at night or in dark places.

He listened as closely as he could. He was still too far away to make out everything being said around the fire, but he had heard enough. The man in black, and the soldiers, are looking for a place to settle in the tundra, and the large man had offered to take them to a suitable site. And there would be coin involved.

Al'shir has no real need for money. There isn't much in this world he needs, other than what he was created with. But influencing others generally comes with a price. A price most commonly paid with coin. And these soldiers didn't seem much of a challenge..