Walking the Borderline

After our ill-considered attempt to raid the lair of some Hill Giants and their hobgoblin troops, we camped for the night and in full daylight returned to our Journey southward toward Wayfinder's Keep. This Western land is full of surprises: some pilgrims we met on the road told us the next community we would encounter would be Plentyblood Point, indicating it was some sort of Memorial Spot protected by Truce, where steel will not be drawn.

Of course, before we could reach this place, trouble once again beset us. As we struggled through the bitter cold and snow, our caravan - Puck, Aldwin, and Mel on the horses we had acquired from The Butcher's camp, the annoying Vaelorn on the horse we had picked up along the way, and me in the wagon pulled by Philomena the Stout - was set upon by wolves. Not merely normal wolves, although there were three of them, and not just giant wolves, like the ones we killed in Penbridge on the way to Riverdale, but giant white wolves that talked.

These Monsters demanded our horses, I imagine as some sort of tribute for crossing their territory. Mel, Vaelorn, and I were ready to pay the toll, but the bellicose Aldwin (typically) precipitated Combat by doing that thing that makes fire come out his fingers. The battle was joined, and eventually we bested all the creatures, but at the cost of one horse - frozen solid by a blast of frigid air from one of the great wolves! - and substantial injuries to ourselves. Vaelorn proved useless in Combat, falling from the cart in an attempt to work some Magicks upon one of the wolves, but he did provide some healing energy afterwards. In the aftermath of the battle, there was some contention in our ranks as to the relative honor of paying tribute to Monsters, but we soon formed up and moved forward once again.

Plentyblood Point, when we reached it at nightfall, turned out to be some sort of bizarre community that centered on a huge bonfire tended by giants (they seemed tame). There were camps and compounds from all sorts of countries, religions, and other groups, flying their ensigns and regalia overhead. I made us a pennant of five precious stones disponed on a field (all I could do with my meager materials) and flew it proudly. The community was mostly composed of pilgrims coming to this sacred spot to honor or cremate or mourn war dead from battlefields all through the region, but a thriving Society had established itself there, with commerce and all sorts of intercourse.

We took advantage of this respite to convert all the miscellaneous armament we had acquired from our travels into gold and to re-provision. I had butchered the dead horse into several nice meals, so we seemed well-stocked with comestibles, but the pile of armor and weapons, as well as the giant drinking cup we had acquired and the giant's severed Manhood that Puck had insisted on taking, were converted in monies that could bring us better gear. I sold the goods to a party of my countrymen in service to Dessyn; I think I made a fair trade, and took the opportunity to prevail up them to convey some of my journal home. Of course, I distributed the proceeds evenly among my mates.

Puck was acting rather oddly, even for him, during this layover. He had gone to the camps of the different sects that embraced the teachings of Rahkin, whose terrible Power lies at the root of the great Evil which is the engine of our quest. He said he was spying and gathering information, but come back talking like an acolyte newly-converted and questioning our mission. He and the others reported that their Stones were dormant and unresponsive in the place, we we thought it wise to remove ourselves forthwith, particularly with Puck's strange Behaviors.

We each made acquisitions of improved tools of our bloody trade - including Puck, who once again infuriated us by converting everything he could could lay his hands on, his and ours, including a very valuable poison and a potion of Hastiness that I had given him as a gift, in order to purchase one Magical Sword. He even released Vaelorn from our service in return for some of his gold, but that made no one overly sad, although we made outward protestations. That sword had better be terribly Magical for all he went through to get it. I also acquired some goods, including a better sword, as did the others.

Given the nature of the place, we each in our own way made time to pay tribute to our fallen and risen Comrade, Taila.

As we settled for the second night in Plentyblood, we were paid a visit by a mysterious figure. Some sort of representative of Rahkin, he had noticed Puck observing the camps and came to both advise and warn and threaten us that there was trouble ahead. Puck seemed to want colloquy with him, but the rest of us had not the patience and sent him on his way. To know that there would be more blood in our future took no Divination.

Mel and Puck ate some mushrooms that were meant to give them Visions; each reported that they were unable to connect mentally with their Stones. Then we slept.

Hardly had we left Plentyblood to the south the next morning when Trouble once again overtook us: three knights flying the colors of Staywood accosted us and made to take us. We charged them and handily dispatched two; the third surrendered and suffered a Clouting at the hands of Mel before Puck began orating and posturing, meeting the pretentious bastard on his own Terms, with fulsome Courtesy and false Respect. Pfui. In the end, we left the knight alive, with one companion who would recover and one dead. We took their weapons and horses but left them armored and with two horse. The knight warned us that though we had bested him, the entire Keep of Staywood, some ten miles to the south, would likely raise Arms against us were we to try follow the road to Wayfinder's Keep.

With that thought in our minds we proceeded forward, leaving the knight defeated in the snow behind us. At least everyone's Minds seem clear once again.