The first night in the woods had been unproductive and everyone spent the day resting.
As the sun began to set once again, Sylvester had everyone bathe within the ceremonial pool once again. This time it went quicker, and the group were soon back at their clearing and constructing another large bonfire to roast their meat on.
Even though the situation was tense, this was still an enjoyable experience. They got to laugh, have fun, and enjoy a small party all night.
As with before, little seemed to happen. In the middle of the night, however, a ghost wandered into the town.
“Greetings travelers!” He announced. “I am Troy Ulfsen, Herald of the Old Powers!”
Everyone stared at him for a few moments, but he continued his preaching uncaring of the unresponsive audience.
“The great mound near my fair town is a great place of power, but the Old Powers have been sealed beneath it by ancient and dark magics! I need your help to release them!” He preached. “I would go myself, and I did once, but now I find that the heat of the fissure is too great for me to bear, so I need your help!”
With a single precise strike, Sylvester struck Troy’s ghost down with his sentient dagger. He didn’t even get a moment to realize his fate before his spirit finished dissipating.
“That was surprisingly extreme.” Karrank commented while enjoying a nice rib.
“He was misled by the spirits under the mound and didn’t even realize he was dead. Best not to let temptation like that wander around and make our job harder than it should be.” Sylvester explained while sheathing his dagger once more.
The bonfire soon returned to normal, with Wyrtung showing up once again. This time they let him into their circle without questioning him. Only a couple hours later, in the darkest time of the night, an ear-piercing howl swept over their site. Hyngran the Leadstaef was here.
Bounding into the clearing, was an enormous white wolf with blood dripping from its snout. It was as tall as Val and its eyes, with their spark of mad intellect, scanned the group before settling on Sylvester. It lunged at him, but Sylvester managed to roll out of the way while everyone drew their weapons from their hidden positions. Neil circled around, placing the wolf between himself and Sylvester while Kurt and Karrank moved to attack.
Before anyone else could get a hit in, however, Bask slammed into the wolf’s side, sending it skidding across the ground. Hyngran nearly stumbled, but stayed on its feet, snarling in challenge to Bask.
Kurt slashed it, a deep cut that bled profusely, not that it seemed to care. As Sylvester and Karrank arrived to attack as well, it easily danced away from their blows. This however, left it blind to Neil who came from behind and smashed his staff into its head.
Taking advantage of the dazing, the rest of the group charged and sunk their blades into it. They withdrew their blades and it collapsed, dead.
“With this!” Sylvester announced. “Hyngran the soul of anguish and hunger has been slain!”
“And so has this poor woman.” Val mocked them.
They all watched in something like horror as the wolf’s corpse shrunk and turned into a dead woman, riddled with deep wounds.
“Sylvester, is there anything…” Kurt asked hoping against hope.
“No, its too late for her.” Sylvester shook his head, still not ready to have seen what he knew was coming.
“If the villagers find out it was her…” Neil said, realizing what presenting her body would suggest.
“They won’t. She will just be remembered as another victim. Bask is too full for now, but do you remember where we went fishing?” Sylvester interrupted.
“Yeah, they wouldn’t find her there, just like no one found the others in there.” Karrank nodded.
They quickly loaded her corpse up and made their way back to the mound.
“You know, that was almost anticlimactic with all of this work we have been doing,” Karrank commented, trying to lighten the mood a bit.
Stolen novel; please report.
“An ambush is supposed to be anticlimactic.” Kurt countered.
“Yeah, but this thing was supposed to basically be a demigod, right? Shouldn’t it have put up more of a fight?” Karrank pressed further.
“He is a demigod in his home grounds,” Sylvester explained. “He and his kind are fatally weak to heat, which means that they are incredibly weakened in this kind of climate. Besides, we clearly weren’t the first group it had encountered tonight.”
“So, we ambushed a half-dead weakened demigod…” Karrank mused before smiling. “Still a demigod!”
Everyone just had to smile at that, though they lost the humor when they dumped the woman’s body into the frothing waters which quickly subsumed her.
With that taken care of, they returned to town to tell of their deeds. The townspeople were skeptical, but they did admit to hearing the wolf out and about last night, so it was possible.
The group spent the day relaxing in town before Sylvester explained what they would be doing next.
“Alright, that takes care of one of the spirits. For tonight, we are going to continue resting on the mound. Tomorrow, we will attempt to slay one of the trapped spirits.” He announced.
“How do you plan to do that?” Val asked, a smirk on her face.
“I believe immersing the spirit in the lava its prison floats on before it can escape will do the trick.” He explained.
“And if you are wrong?” Neil asked, worried about the potential for failure.
“Then one more spirit gets loose and we will have to kill it just like we slew the wolf.” Sylvester stated, hardening his heart to the other sacrifices that would entail.
“That is… pretty harsh.” Kurt said, worried about the turn this mission was taking.
“It may be, but it is necessary.” Sylvester stated while heading off toward the mound.
They bathed in the ceremonial pool once again and spent the night trying to reset their internal schedules. The next morning, they began to prepare ropes and rocks to use with the Embrenu Saetung, the prisons of the other Leadstaef.
As Sylvester prepared to climb into the crevasse, warm wind blowing in his face, the Vinteralf arrived.
They were tall and rotund beings, wrapped with thick layers of fat. They had the faces of seals and it was painfully obvious that they were not in their ideal condition. They struggled to walk properly, and all their armor had been removed and placed into bundles on their backs. One wielded a large great sword, another dual maces, the next a large shield fashioned like a scarab, another with a sling staff, and the last appeared unarmed.
“If they are here…” Neil put together what this meant.
“My plan was predicted to fail.” Sylvester finished, untying the ropes from himself and leading the group over to the newcomers.
“What were you going to do if they hadn’t arrived?” Kurt asked, relieved that they wouldn’t be releasing any more spirits.
“Followed through, now let’s get them some help.” Sylvester answered while pulling out his dried cyldwort.
Even in their partially delirious state, they recognized the herbs and quickly began consuming them. In a matter of minutes, the vinteralf were sighing in relief as they began to cool down. The effect was so extreme, especially as they consumed more sprigs from the drying cavern, that a cool breeze could be felt when it passed by them.
“Thank you,” the one with the scarab shield stepped forward. She spoke with a light accent. “I am Syareen and these are my companions Bregna, Zau, Piobaan, and Nurmin.”
“I am Sylvester. These are Kurt, Karrank, Neil, Bask, and Val.” He responded in kind.
“Aww, I am after even your pet lizard.” Val pouted, causing Syareen to look over at her.
“Thank you for your help, but we are at the end of our long quest to ensure the evil spirits sealed within this mound.” Syareen and her companions began to put get ready as she barked more at them in a foreign language.
“We have already slain Hyngran.” Sylvester informed her, causing her to start and the others to look over as they recognized the name.
“You set him free?!” She practically shrieked. “You fools! He needs-”
“To be slain with silver or flame,” Sylvester aggressively interrupted her while her companions quickly drew their weapons. “We knew what to do.”
A moment passed before Syareen apparently told her companions to put their weapons away.
“I see. In that case, you have done us a great service and I apologize for my behavior.” She apologized. “But we cannot risk the others escaping. We will seal this fissure and guard it until we perish.”
Sylvester nodded before changing topics.
“I know many things, but I have a question that I cannot answer on my own. Can you pass it along to Nurmin?” He asked.
“Ask.” Syareen answered, curious about what he was going to ask Nurmin.
“I know that the stars of the north sing of the future, but do they sing of the past as well?”
Syareen narrowed her large eyes and stared at him.
“Why are you asking this of Nurmin?”
“Though she may be star-blind, she is still a confessor-acolyte, informed of some of the ways of your star-priests.” Sylvester explained.
“You seem to have your own seer; why will they not answer your question?” Syareen asked.
“Seers in this land do not work in the same way that the Vinteralf’s star-priests do.” Sylvester answered.
Syareen accepted this explanation and began talking to Nurmin in their strange barking language once again. After a few exchanged sentences, she turned back to Sylvester. The whole group, Val especially, leaned closer to hear her answer.
“She says that the songs of the stars are not limited to the future or the past.” Syareen translated for them.
“I see,” Sylvester nodded, making a mental note to travel to visit these star-priests in the future. “Then, back to the matter at hand. Is it not better to slay the Leadstaef?”
“It is too risky to free them from their prisons, no matter what.” Syareen flatly denied.
“I will defer to your experience. But, can you not kill everyone in town?” Sylvester asked, causing the rest of his group to gasp in shock.
“What?”
“Kill everyone!?”
“Anyone marked by the Leadstaef must be slain; the marks cannot be removed, and the whispers will tempt them to free the Leadstaef.” Syareen continued to deny, placing a hand on her shield in preparation for a fight.
“And if the Leadstaef were all slain?” Sylvester proposed an alternative plan.
“We will not hesitate to strike you and your companions down to ensure they are not freed.” Syareen expressed her ultimatum as her companions also began to grab their weapons again. Sylvester’s group also began to prepare for a fight.
“… Fine. We will be leaving then.” Sylvester began to turn away and direct his group away from the hardened Vinteralf.
“Wait,” Syareen called out, an edge in her voice. “We must check you for marks before we will allow you to leave.”
The group protested at that, but Sylvester told them to go along with it. They weren’t happy about it, but they let the Vinteralf inspect them. Val, somehow, managed to get one of them blushing furiously during her check, though neither group brought it up.
In the end, the check had no issues and the vinteralf let them leave in peace. Once they were out of earshot, Kurt broke the silence.
“Why are we just leaving them?” He asked heatedly.
“Each one of them is at least as strong as the wolf we faced. It isn’t a good fight and unfortunately, they have good reasons for what they do.” Sylvester admitted, much to his chagrin.
“That doesn’t mean we should just let them do it! There has to be another way!” Kurt shouted.
“Kurt, you have to realize that we cannot expect to fight them and easily win like we have in all of our other fights. Those five, are the last surviving members of their entire expedition. They are the hardiest, toughest, and most well-armed of the entire group. They are hardened veterans and they will not hesitate to do anything to see their quest through. When it comes to a contest of wills, we will lose.” Sylvester rebuked.
“That doesn’t make it right.” Kurt shot back.
“No, it doesn’t. But it is easier to be callous to people you don’t know.” Whether Sylvester was talking about the Vinteralf or himself was unclear.
In town, their moods were dampened but the villagers were beginning to celebrate being free from the werewolf. They happily provided a couple weeks’ worth of supplies to the party and invited the party to celebrate with them. Sylvester politely turned them down, and the group set out once again.