You'll never ambush us, suckeeers!
Geoffrey led us back through the forest on a path none of us recognized. Fine by me — I've learned to trust the little gnome's instincts when it comes to trees and dirt. Less fine: the bones hanging from the branches. Geoffrey figured lizardfolk. I knew better and didn't feel like explaining how. When we heard something ahead, I did what I do and went to check it out. Treetops. Quiet. Quick.
What I found was a clearing with a gnome strung up in the middle, and what I counted as seven or eight figures badly hiding in the bushes around it. Classic bait. I have a healthy respect for traps — I like to appreciate them from a distance and then leave. Went back, told the others, we backtracked. Geoffrey threaded us around the whole mess without breaking a sweat. Good ranger. Useful to have.
Got back to the village and went straight for Worlis. He told us to come back tomorrow for Uthai's cure. We tried to swing by Serelle's to offload the sword, but the shop was dark. Olga, ever practical, went to collect from Jann for the flowers while the rest of us milled about uselessly.
Back at the tavern. There was a letter waiting for me. A Marquees R., apparently some nobleman. The whole thing reads like a trap. I've circled the date in my head. Never heard of any noble family by that name in these parts, which makes it more interesting, not less. Also at the bar: a halfling. Armed like she was expecting a small war. She caught us looking, sent drinks our way. I appreciate the instinct. Her name's Melba of Chom. She's looking for a lantern of some kind. Here's the thing — I'm fairly certain she was the gnome tied to the tree in that clearing. I'm keeping that to myself for now. Either she got free on her own, which speaks well of her, or the whole ambush was her people and she's scouting us, which also speaks well of her in a way I'd rather stay aware of. Either way, she bought us drinks. We'll see.
Next morning we dragged ourselves together over breakfast and headed to Worlis. The ritual went smoothly — Uthai's looking better, or at least less cursed. Then we followed the walknut toward Refugium. Melba was unsettled by the walnut doing its thing, which is a fair reaction. You get used to it. Sort of. A few hours of quiet hiking, and then the forest opened up into something genuinely impressive. Trees shaped into a hall — staircases, bridges running between them, the whole structure carved from living wood. I spotted movement and waved. Whoever it was disappeared fast. Can't blame them. Then the animals arrived. Dozens of them, completely unafraid, and then — talking. All of them, perfectly understandable. Olga and Geoffrey looked like they'd died and gone somewhere wonderful. Melba chatted up a deer who had, I gathered, very strong opinions about grass. We used this opportunity to ask where Dwoinan was and they pointed us along.
While we were walking, Uthai heard something — take the key — and a rock appeared behind him from nowhere. I recognized the pattern. Climbed up to get a look at Refugium from above. Worth it. Then a dwarf came barreling toward us and shooed the rock away. Given that dwarves have been absent from the world for a decade, this one had to be Dwoinan. He looked the part: stout, pale, beard and hair absolutely wrecked — frazzled in a way I've never seen on a dwarf, and they usually treat their beards like sacred objects. He waved off the rock, told us not to listen to them. Mostly tricks, occasional wisdom, mostly nonsense. Fine. He offered us Ironspit. We were polite and drank. We suffered for our politeness. I have had strong drinks in my life. This was something else entirely. One sip and I saw briefly into a void. Dwoinan drained his entire mug. The man is built from stone and spite.
The arrangement: three questions, free of charge. Additional questions cost errands. Uthai, before any of us could think, pulled out the broken mystery box and laid the whole story on the table. Dwoinan was fascinated enough to give us a bonus. So we have our three questions and we've spent two:
- What is the Wild Hunt?
- The story of Orthrid and Ilfang.
We're sitting on the third. No point wasting it.
In the meantime, he has work for anyone willing:
- Something's causing a red light in the forest — animals won't go near it, but they'll lead us there.
- A kobold infestation has moved in near Refugium's usual patrol routes — the elves can point us to it.
- There's a ruined keep north of here with a spelled-shut basement no one's cracked yet.
- And then there's a lantern. Speaks, shouldn't be opened, has siblings somewhere. Collect them all and bring them back.
I looked at the list and thought: well, that's our week sorted.