Degra finished the jerky, and allowed Joshua to insist that she lay down again. Even getting briefly up out of the wagon for a needed moment of privacy turned out to be exhausting. By the time she made it back it took the combined efforts of Sparrow and Joshua to help her back into the cart. Surrounded by bundles of plants and the rolled fur of the Dazbog, she let herself be rocked to sleep by the irregular pace of the goats.

She woke with a groan as the shadows were stretching over the road. The cart had stopped and Joshua and Sparrow were talking to someone in the warbling tones of the softskin language. She thought maybe that was why Sparrow was so good with music and with picking words that fit the sounds of the music.

Slowly she sat up, and realized that after this long rest she felt so much better. She rubbed her eyes. No longer were they surrounded by plants. A greyish hill was ahead of them.

She looked at the person Joshua and Sparrow were talking to. Another soft skin. He was wearing metal. She frowned. She had seen many warriors who wore leather with small pieces of metal, or sometimes bone or even wood sewn onto them. She’d also seen warriors with protective portions of armor made out of hardened leather, or even metal strapped onto arms or chest to keep the warrior safe.

This was nothing like that. It was loose cloth made entirely of metal. Woven? No, it was many many many small rings. The garment was shaped like the one Joshua wore, a tube for his body, and smaller sort of tubes for his arms. It was something amazing. She couldn’t even begin to imagine the skill, and possibly the time that had gone into making such a thing. It seemed like had this warrior faced a creature like they had last night, that it would be difficult for the Dazbog’s large jaws to fit through the small rings.

Sparrow nudged her father, and tilted her head toward the Kobold. In the trade tongue Sparrow said “She is awake, father.”

Stolen story; please report.

Degra carefully climbed out of the cart, trying not to damage the bundles of plants any more than she had by sleeping with them. Taking a breath she carefully shaped some of the very few words she had laboriously learned of the softskin tongue.

“Respectful greetings. I am Unsi Degra, and I seek succor.”

Bite climbed up on her shoulder and dooked approvingly, happy with her pronunciation.

All three of the softskins looked surprised, and Sparrow grinned. “I didn’t know you could speak Liftish.”

Degra shook her head. “I know three or four phrases in the speech of most of the local tribes, but no more than that.”

The metal garbed softskin bent forward from the waist, and spoke in carefully pronounced trade tongue. “Be welcome Unsi Degra.” He glanced at Joshua, and said “I am Squire Varst, and My brother tells me that you are in search of someone to.” He frowned, clearly considering his words. “to unweave a magick that is harming your people.”

“Yes,” she said, a spark of hope kindling. “I was told to seek the,” Her voice trailed on as she focused on what she was seeing behind him. She had been so distracted by what he was wearing, and that she was feeling better.

She had completely failed to register that the grayish hill behind him was not a hill.

Orderly stones, row upon row of them rose up higher than most of the plants they had passed on the road. The top of what ever it was carefully jagged, with higher bits. Looking carefully she could see movement. Things were skittering along the top of it, in ones and twos.

No, not things. Softskins wearing metal garments like Squire Varst. She blinked, and shook her head. It was bigger than she had realized. A lot bigger. In the middle of the huge flat surface of stones, there was some kind of door. It wasn’t a real door, she realized, because it was made of criss-crossing sections of plant fastened together with metal bits. Even now it the whole thing was rising up to allow carts and people to enter.

She made the sign of the circle.

Those stones fit together in a pattern, in a way that no natural stone would do. She shuddered, thinking of the horrible thing that Kvegock Cairnbuilder had made. This enormous nest had to have been made by many many hands and people.

All the various people going into this nest. Most of them were softskins, but she saw a group of Orcs and what looked like, but could not possibly be a nobly garbed troll with a single horn in his forehead.

A place this strange had to be a place she could find help.