Chance found himself humming as he strode along the path the following morning, the cave of Azval Stalvaq receding away behind him. He did not know the tune and so suspected it came from Craghand; no doubt the dwarf was just as eager that they be on their way as he was.
The Halfscale tribe had gathered up in the morning after a long night of feasting and partying, to watch as Chance and his friends left. There had been hesitation among them at the thought they were being left alone. Chance and Yrip had done their best to reassure the kobolds, to assuage their fears, to tell them that they were as prepared as they needed to be, and that they would not be gone long in any case.
Chance did not know how long they would be away exactly, only that it would be just long enough to venture forth and discover what might be nearby, to find out if anyone lived there, and whether they were friendly or not. Just a scouting mission he had promised the kolbolds, and then he would be back.
He carried his staff, the Heartsong of Azval Stalvaq, in one hand, and his spear in the other while wearing the leather armour that had been hidden in the cave, ready for any trouble. They had been able to fashion some packs to wear, and these held fried meat, fruits and nuts, as well as some bread that had been cooked from the flour taken from the goblins' camp. There had not been much of it, and it was one thing he was especially eager to find out there in the wider world, a source of supplies they could not make for themselves that they could trade for. The problem with that was a lack of money, but even that did not concern him overly. He felt good, happy even. And that was unusual. Feeling good for no apparent reason when he had not sought it out was an experience he was not used to.
They continued on along the path, turning towards the south between the stream and the swamp, and as they drew nearer to the bridge, they caught sight of the troll, Elder Maedryn, waiting there. He gave them a friendly wave and a smile as they reached him.
“Ah, my friends, tis a pleasure indeed to lay eyes upon you one more. You are off on your journey beyond, and I have come to wish you the best upon it.”
“Thank you,” Chance responded, then asked, “How did you know that we were to be leaving when we only just decided late yesterday to do so?”
“Ah, my dear fellow, that is no great secret, for so it was written and so it shall be.”
“Written?” A frown formed across Chance’s brow. “Where was it written?”
Maedryn waved the question aside. “That is neither here nor there, my good fellow, but as I knew that you would be coming this was, I felt it prudent that I should endeavour to aid you in your great journey.”
“That is most kind, but you have already done plenty for us.”
“Barely a trifle, barely a trifle.” The troll extended out his large, rocky hand towards Chance, and upon it, he saw that there was a small pouch; small, at least, when compared to the size of the troll's hand. Chance took the pouch, noting how heavy it felt and that its contents clinked when moved.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure. It had been in possession of the dragon previously, but as he no longer had any need of it after his demise, don’t you know, I felt that it was best set aside for a worthy use. And now that is at hand. I do wish you the best of luck on your journey and don't hesitate to drop in on your return. I eagerly await news of your adventures.”
“I hope that it isn’t too exciting,” Chance responded, to which the troll laughed.
“No, indeed, a bit of peace and quiet is much preferred, but people do like to rush about so, and make a fuss and a noise.”
Chance grinned. “I’ll try not to so much.”
The troll laughed again, and with that he turned and started to wade out into the swamp again, headed across towards his island home. Chance waited until he was a good way across before he opened up the pouch and inspected the contents.
Gold glittered back at him, a large number of thick and heavy gold coins on display.
“He was very generous,” Snarl observed upon viewing the contents of the pouch.
Chance closed the pouch and stored it in his pack. “Yes, he was.” Then he laughed. “He must have claimed some of the treasure before the heroes did. It looks like we did get our hands on some of it after all.”
There were chuckles as they started out again, down the path, passed the bridge and towards the unknown, soon reaching the place where the map ended, though the path continued on. Chance opened up the parchment, to inspect the map as they continued to walk. The map expanded as they left it, the known part shrinking away to just a small portion of it. Much of the new map was covered over in fog, obscuring what was there, but a part of it nearby to part they knew was shown. The stream they followed flowed onwards, to meet a river that emerged from mountains to the south of them. The river headed out onto a plain that lay between the mountains and the forest to the east, and on the plains were shown a number of small villages. Civilisation, of a kind, and there Chance was determined to go. He couldn’t judge how long it would take, though he suspected they weren’t all that near at hand, judging by the scale of the map.
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“Does anyone know anything of these places?” he asked, showing the map around.
“We came from the north, where few people tended to live,” Snarl responded. “From what I understand, there are humans and dwarves living further south of here, so it could be some of them.”
Yrip shook his head as well. “Ilyari try to avoid other people.”
“I guess we shall just have to find out the hard way,” Chance noted.
They walked onwards, through the day and the forest, one that felt no different than the one from which they had come, even though it was all new and unexplored to them. Chance took the time while they were walking to look at the parchment, to learn more of the new powers that he had been gifted through attuning to the focal point of Azval Stalvaq.
Power: Storm Call
Range: Medium
Damage: Medium
Required Stats: Mind 3, Soul 3
Required Affinities: Nature.
Power Source: Primal.
A druid of sufficient power is able to call a storm upon his foes, to lash this with rain and wind and lightning over a substantial area. Those caught within it are unable to make ranged attacks and suffer damage until they are able to escape it.
Now they were cooking with gas. Chance liked the sound of the new power. A targetable storm that helped protect him and dealt with enemies at the same time, should they turn hostile, was more than welcome. And if he could catch them in a Grasping Roots first, they would be stuck there as the storm lashed at them.
Power: Shapeshift (Basic)
Class: Druid
Required Stats: Body 2, Soul 2
Required Affinities: Nature.
Required Power Source: Primal
As a druid becomes sufficiently attuned with nature, they are able to assume the forms of some of the beasts and animals that make it up. Those new to the power can take on simple forms of a small to medium size, such as snakes and badgers, cats and dogs, large birds and fish. While in their new forms, they are unable to cast spells and their combat abilities are fairly weak, but they can move as the animal whose form they have taken. Can be used MIND times a day.
Chance’s smile grew into a grin as he read the description of the power. That sounded like too much fun.
“One moment,” he called out to the others, stopping walking. “There is something that I have to try.” The others all turned to look at him, bearing quizzical expressions.
Right, so what to try to become first? He tried to think back to his classes, to remember what animals he had been taught about that might be of use. Just choosing ‘bird’ didn’t seem like it would work; he would need to be specific. An idea came to him. Ah, yes, that would be perfect. He set down his spear and staff and pack then made ready.
Pranaq. Barely had he whispered the words than his body shuddered and rippled and the change came over him. It felt strange, though not painful, almost like his whole body had sneezed and kept sneezing. There was a moment of disorientation as his mind tried to adjust to what he was becoming.
He heard gasps coming from the others, and there was little wonder about that, for where once a dwarf had stood there now was a very large eagle, dark of colour and with a sharp, proud beak and large, grasping talons. He spread his broad wings wide and screamed with joy, a piercing cry, and leapt up into the air. Somehow he just knew how to fly with his new body, the knowledge coming instinctively to him. His eyesight was far sharper than it had ever been, able to pick out even the smallest objects in very sharp detail as he spiralled on upwards. A large bird, the power had said. Well, his new form, the Wedge Tailed Eagle, was about as large as they came, near a metre in length and with a wingspan near two metres across.
The world opened up beneath him as he soared ever higher, circling upwards on thermals; he could see everything. The stream bubbling below, with fish leaping in it, the trees rustling and waving in a breeze, the path stretching out ahead. A rabbit hopping along.
The stooping dive came almost by instinct and down he plummeted, sharp talons stretching out to snatch the unsuspecting rabbit and then he was whistling along just above the ground, to return to where the others waited. He came in to land on a tree branch near them, the rabbit still clutched in his talons.
It had been exhilarating beyond words, the rush of the air through his feathers, the fierce thrill of the hunt, and the victory of success. Much as he wished he could remain as the eagle, he knew that he couldn’t, at least not for the time. He dropped back down to the ground and shook his body. As he did, the eagle form sloughed away, returning back to the body of a dwarf, the rabbit still in his hand. He shuddered and dropped it, still not used to dead animals up close. It was the first time he had killed as well, as the undead did not count. The hunt may have been instinctual, but it was he who had struck the blow and part of him did not like the sensation. It was unsettling.
Even so, he couldn’t help but grin when he saw the expressions of the other three as they looked at him. They were still largely in a state of shocked surprise.
And, just for a moment, he thought he heard way back in the recesses of his mind a voice whispering.
Yer a druid now, laddie.