[Erevan Burkwood][Session 2 - Level 1][Part 2]

The next day Burkwood heard the crashing of the northern giants in the distance as he reached the end of the marsh. He pulled the sled around into a large thicket, staying low, and walking along it. As he continued on his way he traveled much more carefully. .

Some ways into the thicket Burkwood found a tunnel dug through the packed earth underneath the snow. He dragged his sled through the tunnel finding multiple paths. The tunnel split off at an intersection almost immediately. However, only one was large enough for his sled. And as far as he could tell, while underground, it went the way he needed it to. As he entered the dark tunnels he lit up a torch.

“Hey you!” A voice called out from a side tunnel.

The voice was definitely a whisper, but projected from a bit of distance with a deep voice. Erevan registered this and whipped around to face the speaker. He spotted a tusked man holding a lantern. They happened to be a half-orc with a few furs draped over them. He had a field dressed deer over one shoulder and a bow over the other.

“I don’t know you. Where’s your Hunter’s sigil?” The man called out, not stepping any closer, as he tried to whisper and be heard.

“I am not a Hunter.” Burkwood said, hiding his rage from the man, an ally of those who destroyed his home.

The man was down a side tunnel, slightly behind Erevan, as if he had just come from a hunting trip in the North. Although all that was North of here was the Giant’s Forest.

“How old are you? What are you doing out here?” The Hunter moved forward and squinted in Erevan’s direction trying to size him up.

Erevan raised a hand, ready to swing the ballista around, and fire at the man with his telekinesis. The half-orc quickly drew a dagger from a belt across his chest and raised it up to throw it.

“Stand down!” He yelled.

Erevan opened his mouth to reply, stopping when a scratching sound came from above, as the two became aware of a new threat. Both the Hunter and Burkwood looked up. Dirt started to drift down as dust filled the air.

“Did they find us?” The half orc’s voice was shaky as he spoke.

A massive hand bursted through the roof of the tunnel, grabbing the half-orc, as Erevan closed his fist. The ballista fired and slammed into the hand of the giant. The giant’s palm opened, letting go of the Hunter, and retracting his arm.

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“They got me!” The Giant yelled in a deep gravelly voice.

“Those pests!” Another voice called out.

A giant fist slammed down through the hole in the tunnel. It missed the half-orc as he scrambled back and began to run North. Burkwood was stunned as he watched the giant fist pull back out of the tunnel.

The two giant voices returned as they spoke to each other for a moment.

“Did you squish him?” One giant asked.

“No, but I can smell them. They're down there.” The other giant said.

“Well my hand’s all junk now. You find them.” The first giant replied.

“They probably continued southward” The second giant argued.

Then two giant hands began digging out the roof of the tunnel heading in Erevan’s direction. They reached inside, clutched the ceiling, and ripped it away.

Burkwood muttered his incantation to lighten his load, making sure it’s not going to give out at an inopportune time before he dragged his sled with all his might. He stayed ahead of the giant digging out the tunnel. Digging his feet into the ground, Burkwood moved as fast as he could.

The hands continued to dig away at the tunnel, catching up to Erevan, and the ceiling threatened to collapse at any moment. Erevan might be buried before the giant finds him. He reaches a fork in the road again, with only one path wide enough for the sled, so Erevan quickly heads that way.

The giant stopped as they reached the fork in the tunnel. Unsure which tunnel to continue down. They make a sound of disapproval before their footsteps recede. Erevan escaped the giant and felt a rush of relief flood over his body.

Erevan eventually emerged from the tunnels and continued traveling through the icy woods. Eventually he found himself in a snowy glade. As he walked through it and ducked underneath a fallen tree he came to a clearing. The clearing had a few icy flowers growing. There were two graves with weathered headstones that were unreadable.

From wind, frost, and time they had been practically sanded down. Erevan was surprised to find graves so far North of civilization. So rarely was time or energy wasted on the dead up here.

Yet, it was immediately apparent that Erevan was not alone in the glade. Dozens of white moths fluttered about the grave site. His father had told him stories about Ancestor Moths that were attracted to the last resting sites of spirits. As pale as snow, as light as a cloud, and as wise as an ancient dragon.

Erevan sat for a moment. Among the moths he wondered if they would ever visit his homestead. His father would be buried in snow. Maybe a scavenger found him. Unlikely, the bandit on the tree was far easier to get to. Let alone find.

Burkwood bent over in front of the headstones, placing a hand on either one, and would mutter an incantation. The weathering of time seemed to reverse and the names became legible again.

“Heliokaon the Great Swordsman: Loving Husband and Estrid the North’s Pride.” Erevan read the two headstones out loud.

Somebody cared about these two enough to bury them, and then the moths watched over them. Erevan couldn’t help but wonder if when he died would he be alone in the North or would he be with others that would take the time to bury him? He slowly walked around them and left the glade.