Chapter 17

Their few days of travel back to the Timber Wilds was as easy going as they could have hoped. The party had agreed to rest for the night on the banks of the river then head into the trees in the morning. After their usual camp duties were taken care of, each man tried their hand at fishing for their dinner, partially to conserve their rations, but partially out of pride.

The men spent hour after hour giving it their best effort to land a fish. Errrkkkk repeatedly splashed into the water and came up empty. Roden would get a bite on his lure, only for the fish to get off or spit it out before he could get them to shore. Riakon nearly had one when something completely unexpected happened.

Riakon’s claws were coming up empty when Grok leapt from his back and dove in head first after the elusive fish. All three men saw the garg disappear under the water and abandoned their task.

Errrkkkk shot overhead heading far downstream to grab the garg before he was swept into the faster currents.

Roden flung his pole and shirt up the bank before diving in. He cast Immediate Focus before he hit the water so he could see better while beneath the surface. However, by the time he opened his eyes there was nothing to see.

When Roden came up, he saw Riakon holding a struggling Grok, who was holding a struggling pike by the head with his teeth. It wasn’t until they were on the bank that Riakon was able to convince Grok to let go of his catch. The three stood in a mixture of disbelief and pride at the fish.

The pike was longer than Grok by at least four inches and had to weigh nearly as much as he did. Riakon set to cleaning the fish and they made sure Grok got the fish heart as soon as it was ready. They all enjoyed a hardy meal of fish and trail bread before laying out on their bedrolls.

They had decided to keep a watch even with Roden’s wards. They all agreed the presence of a werewolf in the area warranted a rotating watch. Errrkkkk took the first watch, his non-existent ability to see in the dark made it a necessity.

Roden unfortunately found himself as the designated second watchman given his elven night vision. Roden had planned ahead for this watch though. He remembered what came on the night before the party searched for the werewolf in the Wilds, so he had set wards farther than normal so he would be alerted when their night time visitor inevitably came by.

In the meantime, Roden stared at the night sky. If he knew more about the stars back home, these stars would have been foreign and strange. Instead they were simply beautiful and mysterious just like the ones back home.

It was small times like this that made him long for his simple life. He missed waking up in his bed under a warm blanket fending off the chill from his cold room. He missed air conditioning and the comfort of not sweating when standing still.

In his deepest parts, Roden was a homebody. He loved staying in, whether it was reading a good book or playing a game, he was happy to be at home. His hobbies brought so much meaning to his life that he didn’t need much more than what he could find surrounded by those walls.

Adventures were cool and exciting, but they only made up one part of life. Roden had figured out early in life that the majority of life was spent in the in-between. Most people spent a third of their life sleeping and a third of their life working. The final third is left for everything else.

Only so much of life could be spent on adventures especially when there were other things that needed doing. Roden believed the greatest thing a person could do with their life was to create something of value that outlived them. Some people did this by raising children, while others did this through some kind of production.

If all a person ever did was create memories of the things they have done then there would be nothing left when they are gone. That was one reason why Roden loved being a teacher. Knowing that he had changed the life of even one student a year made it all worth it. Yet, here he was, far away from his wife and home.

Stripped of his hobbies, and torn away from his career. If the purpose of this whole thing was to make him grateful of his life back home then mission accomplished.

Not to say he wasn’t grateful for everything before landing in this place, but he had found a new sense of gratitude for all of the little things that made his life comfortable, safe, and easy.

In some ways this whole adventure felt like a way for him to have to find meaning in the journey. What better way to learn to find meaning in the doing than by doing the doing.

Thankfully, his convoluted thought was interrupted by the ringing of his farthest ward. The abruptness of the alarm in his head caused him to flinch violently in his bedroll before dragging himself up, Grok perked up and stared into the darkness in the direction of Roden’s ward.

His fur stood on end and he crouched while letting out a low gravelly growl,

“Guys wake up, something tripped my ward.” he said just loud enough to rouse the sleepy adventurers.

“Huh what? I already did my watch.” Riakon said while attempting to roll over.

“Wake up, cacaw!”

Riakon’s eyes popped open, his full attention on looking around.

“Which ward was triggered, cacaw?”

“The one over by the treeline. I hoped it would catch anything coming out of the trees towards us.”

“Cacaw” Errrkkkk’s stern demeanor gave Roden pause. He didn’t want the birdfolk to rush off after the culprit.

Luckily, it didn’t take too long before the men started seeing pairs of glowing yellow eyes seemingly blinking into existence amidst the darkness of the trees. Minutes later four legged figures would be seen slowly walking out from the trees. They gathered just outside of the tree line.

“What are they?” Riakon asked while squinting hard into the darkness while placing a hand on Grok holding him back.

The little guy was fully locked in on whatever was there in the dark.

“Those are wolves.”

“Werewolves!? Cacaw!”

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“They look like regular wolves to me.”

“I’ve never seen or heard of wolves doing that.” Riakon was gesturing at the pack that had formed up in two loose lines. After which, a massive white gray wolf advanced down the makeshift aisle.

Its red eyes shone brightly in the night. It threw its head back and let out a howl that rattled Roden’s bones. He could feel the intensity in that wolf’s great voice.

“Was that a challenge?” Riakon said while he reached for his hammer.

“I think it was a warning.”

“Either way, its night and they have the advantage, cacaw.”

“Aye Riakon, when you were reading about werewolves did it mention anything about white ones with red eyes?”

Riakon thought for a good while as they watched the pack of wolves slowly disappear into the trees.

“Actually, yeah I do remember something. It was something about a purebred werewolf. One born from two werewolf parents.”

“What does that mean for us, cacaw?”

“It means that this hunt just got way more serious.”

After the commotion of the wolves, the night went by quietly. Too quietly in the sense that Roden and Errrkkkk reported hearing no birds or other usual sounds coming from the trees for the rest of the night.

There was an air of tension among the men while they packed up their camp and began heading toward the trees. They agreed to head into the trees expecting contact. Riakon would take the lead and search for tracks, Errrkkkk would stay high up in the trees to keep an eye out for any far away threats. Roden’s job was to be the eyes in the back of Riakon’s head.

The entire situation was nerve racking to say the least. Each man was a coiled spring ready to unload at the slightest trigger. Roden nearly blasted a fat squirrel that skittered through the leaf litter, but managed to pull back just before giving the incantation that would have sent the spell flying.

Unlike in Adventures and Antics, real tracking was hard and the least glamorous thing Roden could think of in that moment. At the table it was roll dice, time passes, congratulations you found your McGuffin and the story goes on.

Currently, he was in the time passes phase and it sucked. After what felt like an eternity of trekking through bush, branch and leaf, Riakon stopped moving and a quizzical look appeared on his face.

“What’s up?”

“The tracks stop here and just turn around.”

“So we need to back track?”

“I thought so, but then I felt this” he said, holding out his hand in the direction they had been heading. Roden watched as his hand met some resistance slowing unnaturally before a shimmer appeared around his outstretched palm.

Roden approached the invisible barrier and did the same. He found the wall of magic with his hand and pushed on it. It was like moving his hand underwater, there was resistance, but he could still do it without any issue. Riakon unceremoniously walked through the barrier head first. Errrkkkk dropped down and Roden filled him in on the situation.

“I’ll see how high it goes, cacaw.”

When Errrkkkk touched back down, Riakon was doing his best bloodhound impression as he scoured the area just inside of the barrier for any signs of activity.

“It’s a dome, cacaw. It goes up about fifty feet and has a slight curve. I’d bet there is something in the center, cacaw.”

“I was thinking the same thing. Lead the way Riakon, we are heading for the center place” Roden did his best to keep a smug grin from spreading across his face.

It took them another couple hours of hiking through thick woods before Riakon started seeing the signs that signaled a humanoid settlement. The men were wary of just stumbling out of the bushes and into their camp, so they did their best to circle around and walk up in as wide open of a space as they could.

When they approached the camp they saw it was a sprawling collection of teepees, wigwams, and cabins. People of every race and species milled about dressed in homespun cotton clothing. Some of the women wore dresses dyed in a variety of colors. Many had beads or other accoutrement as decoration on their clothes or in their hair.

It was the strangest thing for the group as they walked into the camp and no one gave them any particular attention. By normal standards that might have been strange, but it was down right bizarre for this party that had a two meter tall dragonkin and a boisterous birdfolk.

Riakon’s impatience got the better of him and he asked one of the villagers if he could speak to their leader. They kindly directed the group to one of the larger teepees and went on their way.

With a shrug the three made their way to the entrance and ducked inside. The inside had a sloped floor at the entrance that led down a few feet giving the room inside the teepee a higher ceiling and low earthen walls.

In the center of the floor was a small fire and an old elf with skin the color of onyx. His white hair stood out in wisps here and there as if his head couldn’t quite decide if it wanted to go bald or not. There was an unmistakable skunky fragrance wafting through the air in a thick haze of smoke.

The old elf turned around to see the men. He was in the process of pinching something up to his lips and inhaling hard enough that the small ember at the end of his small joint burned bright red. He pulled his fingers away from his mouth and while trying to hold in as much breath as possible spoke in a deep voice strained from holding the smoke in his chest,

“Ah, mai brodas! Sidon. We get a lot to yan wey concern. I am Mu’tumbo, I knew you de come.”

The three men looked at each other and gave a simultaneous shrug before joining Mu’tumbo around the small fire.

“It na gud to meet you boys. We no get many visitors.”

“Right, well we aren’t exactly here for a visit. We didn’t actually know you were here.” Riakon said tentatively, still trying to piece together what Mu’tumbo was saying.

“Oh I sabi why you de here. You de find Seven.”

A blank expression crossed Riakon’s face. At that point Roden took over. He knew what Mu’tumbo was saying despite his dialect being quite different from what he had used at the table. He was actually thankful that Mu’tumbo wasn’t saddled with his horrific attempt at a Nigerian accent.

“Who is Seven?”

“Oh Seven na di boi who bin kill dat adventurer who com through here.”

Roden paused to look at the other two before continuing,

“Are you saying Seven is the werewolf?”

“Haha everyone here na werewolf or sontin. No worry boys you de safe, we are no injure odas”

As he was talking Mu’tumbo had pulled over a wooden board with a mound of a coarse greenish powder. Without missing a beat, he rolled the herb into a conical cigarette using a dried rectangular leaf. He set it down to dry and continued,

“Seven na different, im na pureblood.”

“He’s a pureblood werewolf?”

“Ya.”

“So he isn’t from here, cacaw?”

“Oh no im na from here, but im na orphan. We found am as per pup for di woods” in the midst of the conversation, as the tension was building among the party. Mu’tumbo lit his freshly rolled joint using a small twig from the fire, took a long drag before handing it to Roden on his right. Who did the same without hesitation. There was a halt to the conversation as the joint went around the four men. Roden breathed out a cloud of smoke,

“So what makes a pureblood so different?”

“Oh a pureblood na born from two true werewolves. Di werewolf trait runs deep for im blood. Im no fit control imsef now wey im get tasted a fresh heart. Once a pureblood go bad di wolf takes ova. It na mata for taim before im na all wolf”

“Does that mean he needs to be put down before that happens?” Riakon said between drags.

“I hate to tok it, but yes. Seven na risk go di safety for di vila. We exiled am afta im bin kill dat man. We no kill here. Killing brings di animal.”

“Are you saying you want us to handle it, cacaw?”

“Yes, but you must sabi sontin. You no go find Seven. Im go hide until di Blood Moon.”

“What’s the Blood Moon?”

“Di Blood moon, na di last moon for spring. It na taim wen alpha werewolves fight for di pack. Dat na wen im go de for im strongest. Im go com for we here. Under a blood moon, im fit pressure di odas into im pack and control dem.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good time to fight him then.”

“I would agree, what do you think brother?”

“I’ll take him whenever, cacaw.”

“Mu’tumbo, do you have any way to track him down?”

The old elf thought for a moment while rolling another of his long joints. When he struggled to light it with the remnants of his twig, Roden cast his spell and floated a tiny ember in the air. Mu’tumbo leaned in and quickly got a bright red cherry on the new joint and gave Roden an expression of gratitude.

“maybe, we would need to yan go di spirits.”

Riakon leaned into Roden and whispered, “What does yan mean?”

“It means to talk.” with that Riakon straightened and nodded.

“Okay let’s talk to the spirits. Can we do that now or?”

“Oh no, we fit only yan go di spirits reply say ceremony. We fit don one for seven days. We fit only yan go di spirits under a full moon.”

All three men went stiff at the idea of being in a camp of were-people during a full moon. Mu’tumbo noticed their reaction and laughed,

“No worries boys, di barrier keeps we from transforming under a full moon. We do get parti though to celebrate.”

“Okay, great. We will have the ceremony and speak to the spirits about Seven. They will tell us where to find him and we can handle it from there.” Riakon was attempting and failing to not sound incredibly high.

“We go need some tins for di ceremony. You go need to get some tins from town.”

Roden looked to the others for confirmation before they all agreed on the terms of the arrangement. With the plan set, Mu’tumbo took them on a tour of the village and introduced them to a few people here and there. They all seemed so wholesome and happy.

“It must be a relief for a lot of these people to not have to worry about their curse, cacaw.’

The elf nodded, “We find dem a safe place, mai family don been here for generations. Tey tey before di Dark Taim.”

When the tour of the village reached its conclusion Mu’tumbo turned to his guests,

“Abeg dey for di night and rest. You fit leave for di morning. We go get dinner for ya honor as you de doing we a big favor.”

“We would love to, cacaw!”