Closed Fool's Gold

[Tribal]

52nd Fall, 515 AV
7th Bell, Early Morning
Endrykas

Kam Bluetide was not your typical Drykas man; in fact some might argue that he was no Drykas at all. He was relatively short, standing at about five foot and some inches. He wore a thin chain the colour of copper around his neck, which held onto a rather sizeable piece of circular glass he used for reading (and the man was always reading). He dressed in fine clothes, grey trousers, a white shirt that looked as if it had never been worn before, and a blue blazer with large, black stitching. The legs of his trousers were too short and didn’t quite touch the tops of his deer-leather boots, and the mess of dark brown hair atop his head was kept relatively short, growing no longer than the tops of his ears. His dark eyes seemed always searching and it was rare for him to look anyone in the eye for more than a tick.

When he came across Merevaika’s camp, he was dragging a haltered mule tethered to a short length rope behind him, the end of which he held in his left hand, struggling with a paper map in the other. “This looks like the tent,” he murmured and folded his map away to stow in his backpack which he slung over the horn of his saddle (yes, a saddle).

“E-excuse me,” Kam called, “Ah!” he smiled when he spotted Merevaika, “My name is Kam Blue-tide (he had to admit, he could have been more creative in coming up with a name that was more—Drykas), and I was told you might be willing to accompany me on an expedition into the tall grass. You see, I’m looking for a place; oh what was it,” he grumbled and returned to his mule, scratching through the belongings in his backpack for the map. He unfolded it hurriedly and pointed to the location he had marked out with an ink stick, “That’s the one! Wan… Wanarr-ritie, Wan—Oh I forget what you horse-people call it.” He waved; can you take me or not?”

An onlooker might find it odd, to listen to the man go on in perfect Pavi, while he seemed to struggle with some of the most basic fundamentals of Drykas life. Clearly Kam Bluetide was not from the city, not originally at least and his poor, overloaded mule, if nothing else, seemed to suggest as much. “It’s a full day’s ride, or so I’ve been told; I suspect you would like to leave soon,” he assumed she would take the job, but just in case the woman thought otherwise for a moment, he flashed something shiny and gold from the inside of his blue blazer, as if he were about to take it out and put it on show, only to make sure instead that it was safe on the inside, breast pocket of his top.

NotePlease feel free to drive the story and get them to, or at least close to the desired location within your next post

[Merevaika]

Merevaika

Merevaika had stayed low after the events of the night before, trying hard not to think about turning into an elk for the time being. She didn't want more trouble, but recklessness was her nature, and this time the girl snuck out even more carefully, taking the form. It was almost a second nature now, and she ate like that, waiting until the sun rose to return to human form and to her camp. Having breakfast as an elk had some advantages. Disadvantages racked up, like the taste of grass in her mouth, however, and there was no way she would do it often.

She was awake when the visitor came, having only recently come back from her morning attempt at a meal. He was odd, small and dressed up in clothing that didn't fit him. He tried to look smart, with the copper chain with the reading glass, and the fine blue blazer, but looked ridiculous. He held a map in one hand and dragged a mule in the other, which was carrying a saddle. Merevaika sighed with a small amount of sympathy. If he was trying to fit in, it didn't work - the man stuck out like a sore thumb.

He packed the map away, called out nervously before spotting her resting beside the tent. "My name is Kam Blue-tide, and I was told you might be willing to accompany me on an expedition into the tall grass. You see, I’m looking for a place; oh what was it,that’s the one! Wan… Wanarr-ritie, Wan—Oh I forget what you horse-people call it; can you take me or not?”

He seemed foolish at first, picking out a name that sounded unbearably fake, fumbling with a map. He spoke in fluent Pavi, but not a single part of him betrayed Drykas. He was a foreigner, no doubt about it, and a hopeless one at that. But when he stumbled with the name, she tensed, knowing the place he meant. Wanah'ite. Venturing in that place was suicide for Drykas, let alone incompetent fools like this man. There was no way she would take him. No way.

A flash of something shiny and gold changed her mind. He was willing and able to offer a lot for this expedition. Merevaika knew she couldn't resist the temptation of such a good price. Besides, the place held a certain amount of intrigue with it, something Merevaika wouldn't give up the opportunity to muss, now that she thought about it. That was the right mind set. One hungry for money - with interest in the side.

Yet she tried to not reveal her interest as she replied, speaking slowly and steadily as she forced each word to churn out business-like; if he wanted her, he would be the one forced to get her. He was the one at liberty here. "Wanah'ite. I here many don't come back from that. What takes you to such a place?" After waiting for him to reply, she made a sign of agreement, not knowing what else to say.

As he had suspected, she turned to gather up her possessions, messily stuffing them into the yvas bags. Rations, waterskin, fish hooks, flint and steel, snare, hatchet, blanket. Anything of any possible use was added, planning for disaster. And with a journey to the Wanah'ite with this foreigner, it was bound to happen.

She hesitated with the armour, debating whether she needed it. Eventually, she decided for it, slipping it on loosely. With her knife at her hip and bow ready, the Drykas looked like a warrior. Merevaika whistled, the dogs and her horse coming up quickly. Eryunt quickly tacked up, the yvas and pad slung over his back, she called for Freya and Denviel to run beside her, ordering the other two to stay with the remaining horses.

"Come on then," she said to Kam, gesturing for him to follow. The journey, with a mule beside a great horse like Eryunt, was slow, trekking across the grasses a long and boring process. As they rode, Merevaika decided to ask Kam questions, not caring about whether he chose to avoid answering them or not. "So what brings you to Endrykas?" she asked, showing clearly how she knew his attempts had failed, " And what do you want to find the Wanah'ite for?" That one was more relevant.

Merevaika stopped, making a note of the approximate time and sun location. They had been heading in a straight line, but it was never a bad thing to check, just in case. At that point, the sun must have just passed the highest point, at south, so she should have had her back to it. And she did. The guide smiled, thankfully, she wasn't headed the wrong way. That would simply be embarrassing.

By the time the eerie copse of trees came into view, Syna had decided to start setting fully, brushing against the horizon. They had done good time, considering that one rode on a saddle on a mule. She stopped a short way away, already feeling the strange sensation crawling up towards her. She had only seen this copse of trees once before, when she had gone out hunting, but every instinct had told her to leave even before she remembered the stories. Entering seemed unnatural, but that was the job.

She would be the one to return, alive and well, bringing stories of the true Wanah'ite. And Kam, of course, but he wasn't Drykas - she would be the horsewoman who knew of the secrets the grove held. "What now?" Merevaika asked, turning to face Kam fully. Her dogs were scared, and her horse felt tense beneath her legs, ears pointed at the forested area. Not feeling safe with her on the ground, Merevaika slipped off quickly, snatching Freya into her arms and placing her in front of where she sat on the yvas. That was better. The puppy growled. Something wasn't right about that place. Merevaika hoped that whatever it was didn't hurt them.
"Pavi"
Grassland sign
"Common"

[Tribal]

His guide had many questions for someone who failed at the very fundamental basics of social etiquette; she had failed to introduce herself or provide him with any recommendations or boasting of her past journeys across the sea. Of course, she had seemed reluctant to take him, no one in their right mind went gallivanting around the haunted, marshy grove for fun, in fact, few, if any ever returned; Kam, however, hoped what he had heard were just stories used to frighten young children.

Treasure, had been his only explanation but as they made the trek and drew closer and closer to the haunted woodlands, Merevaika seemed to need reassuring and so, Kam was more forthcoming with the information she sought, “I seek the watchtower,” the man admitted, something that was only rumoured to be in the area, though none knew of any actual sightings.

Kam unravelled his map and waved at Merevaika, not wanting her to stand around and look over his shoulder while he worked. His legs were terribly painful after the long ride and the thought of even looking at his mount left a sour taste in his mouth, “Why don’t you water the animals and get a fire started? I have a few things to check on and at this rate it will be too dark to go exploring soon.”

He had utterly ignored any reference to the city and her inquiring as to his purpose of being there, but to satisfy her curiosity, he left another small bread crumb of information for her to mull over, “I was born in Endrykas, I’m a member of the Sapphire Clan.”

The air was heavy, and save for the rustle of the man’s paper map and the shifting of his mount’s feet, the place seemed so quiet. A few chimes passed with the two of them working in complete silence but when a low growl echoed from the grass only a few paces from where the man worked, he jumped to his feet, every hair on his body standing on end with fright. Kam had brought nothing along that might double as a weapon and so he took a lamp from his trusted mule, waving it back and forth wildly, “Reveal yourself foul beast!” He yelled at the area of grass the low rumble had come from, only to find on closer inspection that he had been scared half to death by a troublesome little frog.

Kam lit his lantern then and took a deep breath, “this place,” he murmured, ‘there is something very odd about it.”

The man was on edge now, jumping at the slightest sound or rustle of grass. When his mule ventured closer to the skeleton like trees up ahead of them, Kam abandoned his map and went after the animal, taking his light source with him. The further he stalked from the safety of his guide and the fire she was building up, the less he cared for retrieving the animal so intent on putting space between them. It wasn’t until Kam was almost out of sight that there came a fearsome shrieking sound all around and the flickering light of his lamp blinked in and out of view as he sped towards the treeline, a fast fading song of, “No, no, no, no, no!” following him into the distance until the light of the lamp was gone.

NoteOn the map Merevaika with find a set of lines detailing the waterways, circles for main groupings of trees, small pictures of animals believed to hunt in this area, and two crosses where Kam believes the watchtower might be located, one at either end of the swamp.

[Merevaika]

Merevaika

He eventually revealed his interest in the location : the rumored watchtower, that appeared in ghost stories told to young children to remind them to never stray off the path or go near the grove. The rumors were many and plentiful, and Merevaika had heard only a few. They were ridiculous though. She doubted the location even existed. If there was a watchtower there, surely there would be more proof than children's tales. Surely.

As he had asked, she moved to set up camp, taking his mule to a waterway that slowly twisted into the trees. Eryunt already drank there, and she moved to remove his yvas, placing it not far off. The saddle was more difficult, the straps and buckles made to stay on securely, not be removed easily. Eventually, that too was prised off, and she brushed both horses lightly, clearing up sweat and dirt. Settled in, she sorted through her possessions, finding her flint and steel.

While there was plenty of wood in the Wanah'ite, she wouldn't approach it at night. They would have to make do with the fuel she had brought, which she arranged in a pyramid, leaving a small opening to reach the smallest tinder, a soft, flammable moss. Placing the flint by it, she struck it hard with the steel, sparks eventually landing on the moss. It started smoking, and Merevaika blew at it gently, watching as the flames grew until the moss was all on fire. Happy with it, she settled back, taking a moment to simply rest.

It was quiet. Too quiet. If it were any other grove in the Sea of Grass, it would have been bursting with life, animals seeking shelter under the cover of the trees. Here, the only noises were the light ones Merevaika or her companions made, nothing more. Her dogs occasionally gave a light growl, but otherwise stayed close to her. Then a noise came from a patch of grass, and the man who claimed to be a native Drykas jumped, terrified, before realising it was just a frog.

He couldn't be Sapphire. He couldn't have been born in Endrykas. What man was born in the city of tents, yet rode a mule and jumped at a frog? He was too foolish, and too incompetent. It was surprising that he wasn't dead yet. The Sea of Grass wasn't fit for a man like him."If you are part of the Sapphire clan, why do you use a false pavilion name?" she finally asked, watching him jumping at every noise.

She had only turned her back for a moment to tend to the fire, adding more wood to keep it burning, when she heard shrieking, and a repeated "no" fading away into the distance. Merevaika spun around, watching his lantern disappear into the mist. He was gone, as was his mule. And from the sounds of it, he didn't want to go. With hurry, she found her bow and arrows, readying one immediately. Merevaika moved forward, hearing a rustle of paper beneath her feet. His map, the one he didn't want her to see. She scanned over it, memorising as much as she could of the positions of the lines and circles and crosses, before stuffing it in a pocket, preparing it for later.

Then, she rummaged around in her bags, finding the old, grimy lantern and quickly lighting it, tying it to her belt in a hope to light her way. The forest was dark - she would need it. Denviel and Freya at her heels, they marched in towards where the light had disappeared. Inside, shadows changed, illuminated by the eerie glow of her lantern, and her grip on her bow only tightened as she notched the arrow ready, pulling it back.

With every movement she scanned the ground, searching for a sign of footsteps. Nothing was clear though, so she could have passed them long ago without noticing them. Despite the rising fear in her chest, she let out one whimpered call. "Kam!" Then, she pulled out the map, hoping it had at least some of his scent. Kneeling down, she let the dogs sniff it, before whispering to them lightly, telling them to follow it. If that got them nowhere, she would head to one of the crosses. She didn't know what they were, but they were most certainly important.
Grassland sign
"Common"

[Tribal]

At her back the fireplace hissed and cracked a subconscious warning that venturing into Wanah'ite alone and in the dark was irresponsible and reckless. The sounds soon faded away along with the light; the dim light from Merevaika’s own lantern now providing the only source of light, its glass clouded with years of use, making it less powerful than it might once have been. The dogs sniffed at the map and wagged their tails as if to say that indeed they recalled the scent of the man that had recently abandoned them all to the night.

Without Merevaika’s encouragement, they raced ahead towards the grove, tails up and heads down, trying to track the scent of Kam Bluetide. The closer they got to the grove, however, the harder the tracking became as the earth was wet and soon a flood, leaving the dogs to wade through still, smelly water that came up to their bellies, causing the younger of the two to whine. When they lost the scent, both dogs returned to Merevaika, shaking their hair free of the wet right down to their tails.

The light from the lantern would soon reveal how slimy the water was, leading one to believe that it had sat for a good long time, with no runoff in sight. It wasn’t too deep around the outskirts, but were Merevaika to venture further into the grove she would find that the water came up to her knees, hips, and in the worst parts, stopped just below her chin. It was hard to be sure whether or not anything dwelled in the stagnant depths, though every now and then something would splash and move away from the ripples her foot falls would cause.

In the distance a faint light flew lazily between the trees, followed by a second, and third, until the night seemed alive with fireflies that would only burn bright when the air was still and not a sound stirred. At the squawk of a stray night bird, the movement of some creature or the slap of a fish’s tail, the light the small insects provided would vanish, casting the grove into total darkness once more. In Wanah'ite light was good, while darkness… well perhaps the deep growl emitted from somewhere west of Merevaika’s location would soon tell.

Map

You are the red dot

[Merevaika]

Merevaika

Nothing. The dogs ran around, before giving a whine and returning soaking wet. Merevaika stepped in the direction they had returned from, pulling the lantern over the slimy water. Its depth couldn't be judged, and she didn't want to risk being swallowed by it to her death. Ripples and splashes appeared occasionally, and she stepped slightly in, curious as to what it was. Every now and then, she would see a creature splash away from where she stood.

Whether it was dangerous or not, she did not know.

In the distance, fireflies would glow, a beautiful magical light that seemed to assure her all was well. If it wasn't for the overhanging feeling of dread, the forest wouldn't have been eerie - it would have been beautiful. But even stopping to stare at harmless fireflies could be dangerous, Merevaika knew that. If she wanted to find Kam and to leave this place, she would have to continue moving.

There was a growl. It urged her to move onwards, but she did not know where. Sinking towards the ground, she made a sign to the dogs to guard as she lay the map out flat, the lantern's gloomy light making the features clear.

Where was she? Merevaika thought about the way she entered, the direction she had headed. She entered from the south, and before her was a large murky area of water. There was one place where she could be.

There were images of animals everywhere, from horses to wolves to birds. But there was nothing to the west. She couldn't be certain about it, not at all. But she could avoid it, and the other images too.

Merevaika assured herself that heading towards the crosses was the right thing to do. Kam had spent so much time looking at the map, he would know of their location. He would go to them, wouldn't he? The Drykas didn't want to admit that her logic had nothing to do with Kam - it was curiosity that fueled her march east, moving around the water as she traced her finger along the map, hoping it was correct, hoping she had read it right.

If it went as planned, and nothing bothered her, she would back around the water, trailing along the opposite end of it to reach the nearest cross. Every step she took was cautious, as silent as could be. Every movement was followed by nervous glances all around, checking if anything had changed in the scenery.

It seemed there were more growls, and she knew that slowly, she would be approaching where the image of what appeared to be a wolf was. Slowly, she put the map away, memorising the small section that she was approaching. Her arrow met the handle of the bow, and she dragged the string back, breathing steadily. She wouldn't shoot unless necessary, but she would shoot if attacked.
occI have no idea whether this is enough. Please, just PM if you want me to add more. Thanks!

[Tribal]

There was an unnerving stillness to these dark but beautiful woodlands. Merevaika had worked her way through the thick of the grove where the water was shallow and the trees grew close together. Dappled moonlight shone through the naked branches and Leth watched over the brave guide who was putting her life on the line for a man she didn’t even believe to be one of her own. The Drykas were a proud race, no one could deny that, but none knew the grasslands quite like they did and more often than not, running from safety in numbers meant you were left to face your fate or die.

The growl that had come from the west hadn’t seemed to follow her, but when treading in wolf territory, it was usually only a matter of time before something picked up on your scent. Merevaika might not have realised that deciding to stay out of the water was the worst thing she could have done, as animals struggle to follow a scent that way. Stalking around the worst of the flood lands meant something was bound to follow.

In the distance the song of wolves flared, though it was difficult to tell from which direction they sang. To the west, east, and far south their voices rose, one after the other and then together, either warning the intruder from their lands or summoning a hunting party that would soon be underway. For Merevaika, however, far bigger problems awaited, as noted in the soft ground ahead of her for the observant to find. Left there in the muck was the print of a rather large, fast, and cunning grassland predator, a bird that put all other hunters to shame.

She was wise in heading towards one of the crosses in search of the lost Kam Bluetide, as the man had a photographic memory and knew he would be safer inside the swamp than lingering on the outskirts. It wasn’t that he particularly cared for the mule, but during his last trip here, his strider had saved his life by offering up its own to a hungry pack of wolves.

Merevaika couldn’t have been too far from the first possible site of the watchtower and as the song of the wolves died down around her and the fireflies lit up the path ahead, everything seemed well. If she were to scan the treeline in front of her, Merevaika might notice the jagged stone work of some kind of structure peeking up above the trees. To her left the ground opened up and fattened where the vegetation was not as dense, and from her right, a low-pitched, rolling throaty sound cast the world into darkness again. One of her dogs lifted his nose skyward to sniff at the faint smell of smoke carried to them on the light breeze from the north.

NoteFeel free to write any of the animals you think she might come across, don’t feel restricted in any way, this is your story remember.

[Merevaika]

Merevaika

The wolves were everywhere, voices rising or sinking, warning her, or simply communicating. Warning her to leave because of them, or because of something much worse? Merevaika didn't want to find out, and tightened her grip on her weapon, calling the dogs even nearer. They brushed against her legs, almost reassuringly. But the warm fur, the size - almost like small wolves. She couldn't shake that feeling off.

Denviel growled at the ground, so low and dreaded that Merevaika almost shot the print without a seconds thought. But she didn't, and instead stared with disbelief at the print, hoping it wasn't what she believed it to be. But the size of the bird print left only one thing for it to be. Glassbeak. And Merevaika couldn't stand the things.

She was in real danger, and Kam and crosses meant nothing more to her. She had to get somewhere safe, as soon as possible. Scanning the treeline for anything, anything, she hoped that she would stumble across a shelter of sorts, or the edge of the Wanah'ite. Her footsteps were more hurried, no longer thinking about the noise.

There. Stones, walls, signs of a structure. Somewhere to hide. Ignoring the surroundings, ignoring the noises, ignoring the dogs catching the scent of smoke, she started to sprint towards it, feeling her legs move under her too slow. Then she heard more footsteps behind her, not of the dogs, but of wolves.

Snarling, yapping, red eyes staring through the darkness, teeth flashing in the light of Leth. With added fear, she pushed forward, feeling thorns scratch at her skin, tearing the flesh. The walls. Her goal in mind, she watched the dogs overtake her, disappearing into the darkness. Scattering, until the younger fell behind and she had to scoop Freya up, pushing the dog over her shoulders as she placed her hand upon the wall.

But there was no time to loose. Her bow was moved to a less cumbersome position, and she reached up, grasping a stone firmly as her legs kicked at the wall, trying to find a foothold. She could hear the growls from the wolves right behind her. Her foot slid into place, and she pushed up, arms and legs already killing from the work. Freya slipped, and to catch her Merevaika had to slam against the wall, trapping the dog between the stones and her chest. The puppy kicked out, but Merevaika had already picked her up again, feeling the breath of wolves on her leg. Something sharp ran down the bottom of one of her legs, and she stretch an arm out higher. There was somewhere to sit, she just had to push herself up to it. With the arm in which she grasped Freya, she moved the dog up, helping her scramble up to the flat surface. One less thing to carry, and she managed to reach her own hands up, pushing up with all her strength.

Denviel was nowhere to be seen, but that was a good thing, wasn't it? Not in sight, not in danger. But the wolves were still there, barking up the wall and leaping at it, growling hard. She took her bow, which she had slung so awkwardly over her neck, and an arrow, taking time to line up the shot. They were moving quickly, darting left and right, but she had all the time in the world - she wasn't in danger unless she came down.

The arrow missed the wolves, but scared them, and they moved back from the sharp bite, waiting moments before returning, more angry. Merevaika was ready with her next arrow, kneeling to get a good shot. She dragged it back, biting her lip as it brushed her cheek. Lining it just left of a wolf, she released. The next arrow hit something, and there was a whine. She let loose a few more, and they hit something or other. There were a few more whines, and the wolves dispersed, but it was too dark to see if any injured ones remained.

When she was certain it was silence, she brought up the lantern to the stone structure. Something in her leg throbbed, but it wasn't a deep cut. It was a close call, but she was alive. Now, time to explore. This structure interested her, and she really wanted to find out more.

oocI left it to you to decide if she killed any wolves, although I doubt she did. Denviel is currently in a bush somewhere, but feel free to injure him slightly.

[Tribal]

Merevaika’s leg had been snagged by something that protruded from the stone wall during her climb, it wasn’t life-threatening, but left untreated it could cause her issue, especially if it was the cause of a rusty bolt or nail. She had been wise to run and smart to think of climbing the wall, though Denviel remained alone out there somewhere.

Shooting at the attacking wolves was a bit like shooting at fish in a barrel, there was no sport in it, though the gesture had been effective in driving the pack off, with one or two of the wolves having been injured severely enough for them to turn home and run. The rest had gone after Denviel and off in the distance came the familiar yelp of Merevaika’s dog, distressed, possibly injured and surrounded by the remaining members of the pack. Instinctively, he ran, but there would be no telling as to whether or not the wolves had been successful in ending his life.

Still, the young woman had bigger problems. She was now situated in know Glassbeaks territory sitting up on the edge of what looked to be some kind old mill or workhouse. In the dark it was fair enough to say that the old building was not of Drykas craftsmanship, but would have taken at least a year to construct by a competent stonemason. “Over here,” a low voice called to the woman in a whisper; the voice of Kam Bluetide.

“Here,” he waved from the other side of the wall where he had managed to gather enough sticks and dry vegetation to start a small fire, though he was having trouble getting it to light. His lamp had gone out and his mule was nowhere to be seen.

The man helped Merevaika climb down from the wall by taking her dog for her through a large gaping hole where a straw ceiling had once been. He had a nasty cut at the top of his right arm that he had wrapped with his shirt, leaving him exposed to the cool night’s air which caused him to shiver, though his soaked trousers probably didn’t help. “Help me get this fire started?” he asked, keeping his tone of voice down to a whisper, “There are things out there,” he admitted, “I blocked the door but I can hear it scratching and trying to find a way in,” he fell silent, the noise he alerted her to caused his bare flesh to goose-bump.

If they were able to get the fire going the two would discover an old, locked chest set at the back of the room, its hinges rusted beyond repair. They might also discover a dusty skeleton in what looked to be a knight’s armour and a woven rug set in the middle of the room.

[Merevaika]

Merevaika

Denviel's distressed barks wounded her, each one an arrow to her heart. Leaving him had been painful, and hearing the consequences fill the grove was even worse, like reminders of her betrayal. Freya was safe, and so was the woman, facts she kept trying to remind herself of. Safe, but not for long. Merevaika had to act, had to do something, before even worse predators arrived.

A voice called out from the other side of the workhouse, stone and definitely not Drykas. Remains of some lost society, for no other race would remain in the Sea of Grass for long enough to construct something of this size and skill. Old, but still sturdy, and through where the roof would have once been was the man she had led to this cursed place. His lamp was out, and he was soaked, clothes torn as a makeshift bandage, but he was willing to help her down, taking Freya gently. The woman shimmied down afterwards, almost knocking into the sticks and vegetation laid out for a fire.

Kam asked for her help with it: "Help me get this fire started? There are things out there. I blocked the door but I can hear it scratching and trying to find a way in" Merevaika didn't know whether it was the right thing to do. Wild animals and fire always confused her; on the one hand, it scared them away; on the other, it only drew them closer and made the people around the fire more of a target. But from the scratches she heard, it was obvious that whatever it was, it already knew they were there. Kam needed to stay warm, as from his appearance, he looked freezing.

Her lantern had gone out sometime during the time when she was climbing down into the room where Kam was. No chance of using the flame from that. But she had her flint and steel, still attached to her belt from the last fire she made. As she bent down and started striking the two against each other, she spoke to Kam. "How did you get the cut?" she asked, then, to things that were more curious, "What are the two Xs on the map for?"

Finally, the sparks set the dry plants alight and they had a small glowing flame at the centre of the room. Her leg hurt a little, although the pain had subsided so much that it was barely noticeable. That didn't meant she didn't need to treat it, and with no water, she tried to clean it as best she could with her own spit, wiping at the dirt with the cleanest part of her trousers. A piece of her shirt was torn off, and bound around the wound. Now she and Kam were a matching pair.

Freya gave a little yelp, and Merevaika turned to see what had sparked the pup's interest. A skeleton, wearing armour and coated in dust. Merevaika found her blood run cold at the sight of someone whose death had been so forgotten. There was more to the room than that. A chest, set along one wall, and a woven rug in the middle. While the skeleton, and the rest of the room, appeared old, the rug seemed almost off. Was there something it was made from that made it survive such a long time with little wear and tear?

The skeleton was her first interest though, and she approached cautiously, respectful of the dead. She searched the bones, hoping to find something that gave a hint to who he was, and in that way, maybe something about the place she was in. Any weapons or other items could come in handy, too. The armour looked like from a knight, and the only knights she could think of were the ones that sometimes visited the city of tents during the Summer. Perhaps this was one of their outposts, long abandoned and forgotten?

If and when the skeleton provided anything useful, she would turn her attention back to the rug. It was bothering her in a strange way, and the Drykas would bind it up, placing it up against where the skeleton lay. The chest almost fell out of her mind. It would most likely be locked, and too much effort to open compared to whatever lay inside. Maybe if she had time, she would pay more attention to it, but with the constant scratching at the door, her movements were increasingly hurried.

Did Kam have a weapon? Merevaika realised this after a particularly loud scratch, and asked. If he didn't, and she found something with the skeleton, she would lend it to him, despite his skill. Anything was better than nothing. If the skeleton was bare of weapons, she would lend him her own knife. Another scratch, and a yelp in the distance. Her heart pounded, but she continued with her searching. Sitting and waiting would only be worse.