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Winterborn
Chapter 17 - Checking In

Chapter 17 - Checking In

Captain Sweetling was waiting for us as the fisherman’s boat hit the dock. Standing next to her was a young woman, wearing simple peasant’s clothes. Frostmane leapt from the boat, and landed next to the girl. To her credit, she only flinched a little as Frostmane sniffed her.

“What is it, Frostmane?”

Turning back to look at me, he said, “This is that werewolf we caught a few days ago.”

My eyes widened, as I turned to look at her. “Ninette?”

The girl, barely older than I was, bowed her head. “Yes, I am Ninette. I want to thank you again for saving me.”

Sweetling shook my hand as we stepped onto dry land. “The Blood Moon disappeared, and when we went and checked Ninette in the Meeting Hall’s basement, she was back to normal. Well, as normal as it gets for a new-turned werewolf. Hasn’t turned back since then, but we’ve been working to keep her from getting into any situations that might encourage her… wolfy tendencies.”

Ninette nodded. “I wanted to join the militia, since I have this Warrior class now, but they said it is too big a risk, with any hit I take threatening to reduce me to a wolf, rather than a human. Miss Celaena says that I can learn to control my shape more, but until then I’m a danger to everyone if I lose control.”

Vestele cleared her throat. “One of the belts would be useful here, I think.”

Ninette looked confused. “Belts? What do you mean?”

Frostmane nodded once as Vestele motioned to the bag tied to his back. The priestess reached in, and pulled out one of the Belts of Settled Form we had picked up. I had an inkling of what she was up to, but I decided to stay out of it. We were too far south for my Lady’s liking, anyways.

Moving over to the girl, Vestele held out the belt, and said, “This is an item we took from one of the slain werewolves in the mine. Without the Blood Moon driving them into a near-feral state, their masters needed some way to keep them in fighting form, as it is said to be fairly difficult for a new wolf to intentionally change into their most powerful form, especially in the midst of combat.”

Ninette frowned, clearly not liking the sound of what she was saying. “I don’t want them to control me again!”

“Don’t worry, child. We have used magics to identify the belt’s properties. It will not aid anyone in controlling you. Instead, it will grant you greater control, allowing you to control your shape with ease. That will be enough to keep you from being a threat to others in training, but remember that anything magical is subject to being dispelled by enemies who know such spells. Treat it as an aid, to keep you safe for others, but still work to train that skill as you grow. Just in case.”

The girl gasped as she took hold of the belt. “But, isn’t something like this worth thousands of gold coins? I can’t afford such a treasure!”

“Perhaps, but who would buy it? I will give this to you, child, in the name of Malcanthet, Queen of the Succubi, Mistress of Pleasure. And all I would ask in return is that, each night, when you give your daily devotions, you offer up a prayer to her, in thanks for this gift.”

“Just a prayer, that’s all?”

“Of course. But if you wish to do more, you can always make the journey to Northport, and seek out my sisters of the church, who can show you ways you might pay this gift forward. I place no bond on you, other than to offer a prayer, as I said. But the sisters would welcome you, if you find that your change leaves you seeking new experiences in lands where old memories can be left to lie in the past.”

Ninette sniffed once, and then launched herself at Vestele, wrapping her in a hug. Captain Sweetling allowed that to go on for a moment, and then cleared her throat. “Ninette, these adventurers will need to speak with the Council for a bit. Why don’t you go and tell Mary about this?”

The girl’s eyes went wide. “Oh, yes! I know she’s been wanting to see my wolf, but didn’t want to risk my losing control. This will be perfect!” She smiled radiantly at Vestele, “Thank you, priestess! I’ll be sure to offer your Lady my prayers as well!”

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The Captain watched as Ninette ran off to find her friend, and then looked back at Vestele. “That was a kind thing you did, lass. I know why you did it, but it was kind all the same. At least, if she decides to stay, she can live closer to a normal life, now.”

Vestele waved her hand. “It is the duty of all who serve the gods to spread their name where they can. And, in this case, I harm none in the act. Even if all she does is offer prayers to the Succubus Queen, then I will have done Her will.”

Sweetling grunted as we began walking towards the Meeting Hall. “Mayhaps. And I’ll not say anything ill towards you, or your demon goddess, so long as you’re aiding the town, but I won’t stand by and watch if your ‘sisters’ come and start trying to cause trouble, corrupting the good people of this town and leading them into damnation.”

“Of course, of course. Though I think you’ll find you have the wrong idea of the Succubus Queen. She does not lead people where they are not already willing to go. She is not like Malar, who reaches out and inflicts their worship upon others. You come to Her, because she offers something that you want, not because someone held you at the tip of a sword and made you march before them.”

Sweetling snorted, her voice incredulous. “So, she’s a ‘good’ demon queen, then?”

“Nicer, more pleasant to deal with, so long as you have her favor, perhaps. Would She weep if one of her followers used their charms to twist and manipulate others to follow them under false pretenses, leading them to their doom? Of course not.”

She smiled sweetly at Sweetling. “But I wouldn’t worry over much. With Selune’s church and a powerful druid in the area, I doubt that my ‘sisters’ would be so foolish as to try anything drastic enough that you would need take care of it. I am an exception amongst them, for leaving the comforts and pleasures of the city behind, and striking out into the wilds. I mean no offense, but few of those who are accustomed to the sights, sounds, and sensations of Northport, or other, larger, cities, would ever choose to venture to an isolated town in the forest, off any main trade roads.”

“Hah! More’s the pity, then!” Umphrey the blacksmith’s voice called out from the Meeting Hall’s threshold. “I know more than one of the men would be all too pleased to see more ladies boasting such assets coming to our town. Even moreso if they were the type to share those assets for a few coins. And even if Marnie would have my hide if I lost any coin that way, it doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy a lovely view when it is before my eyes, no?”

Siora laughed as she joined the conversation. “Oh, Umphrey, you have so much to learn! The secret, you see, is not to go and run around behind your wife’s back. The secret is to convince your wife to come with you, and partake together. After all, isn’t a delicious meal best when shared?”

The blacksmith staggered back, one hand over his heart, in a mocking show of distress. “By the gods, I never thought of that! Oh, my dear girl, if you could teach men such skills, you would never want for coin, I assure you!”

Sweetling coughed loudly, and said, “Umphrey, these adventurers have been out fighting the last few days. They don’t want to hear you make a damn fool of yourself, like you do every time you’re around a woman who is prettier than average.”

“Fine, fine. Forgive me if the night sky being back to normal and having a couple days without having to repair half the militia’s armor each day puts me in a good mood. Celaena is already inside, and Magdalin sent a messenger. So, let’s go on in, and we’ll get this conversation started.”

Walking into the Meeting Hall itself, I smiled at the blacksmith, and said, “I understand the feeling. When you’ve faced a winter storm on the open tundra, a breath of a few days before the wind and snow returns is no small thing. In the Dale, we would spend much of the winter huddled in our camps, doing what we could to keep warm. When the storm broke, the hunters rushed out, looking for whatever game they could track, while our elders offered prayers to the Frostmaiden, thanking her for the respite.”

Inside the Meeting Hall, Celaena the druid was already waiting for us, and resting upon the table next to her was a large raven, with keenly intelligent eyes. The druidess smiled as we entered. “Yes, I can imagine they would offer prayers to her. Those who live at nature’s mercy, wherever they may be, can ill afford to offend the gods of those domains. When I was a child, my Master told me that only the most stalwart paladins dare not offer homage, however slight, to Umberlee, even if they curse her as the Bitch Queen, when they venture out into the deep waters. It is a habit that those who live more settled lives do not always appreciate.”

I nodded respectfully. “That is what the priestess who inducted me into the faith proper told me, as well. Of course, one of the duties of a priestess of Icedawn is to spread Her word, and ensure that those who follow Her receive Her favor, and those who spurn Her know Her wrath.”

Catching Sweetling’s eye, I winked at her. “But you’ll find few of us venturing this far from the pleasant cold of the frozen north, save those who have some task that draws them abroad. So, I wouldn’t worry greatly about any wicked priestesses coming to plunge the forest into eternal winter, unless such events were the least of the worries facing the wood.”

The Captain growled, half in jest. “You know you aren’t making me feel any better about this, right?”

Celaena placed a hand on Sweetling’s shoulder. “Do not worry, Captain. The gods of nature are not ones to stray out of their respective strongholds without reason, unlike some of those more contentious types, with their paladins and blackguards trying to bring everyone to heel. The Forest Queen’s servants may venture beyond the woods, and may spread the name of Mielikki as they go, but you’ll find their ability to convert followers somewhat limited in the terrible deserts of the southern lands. Just like the Firelord finds few who will call to him aboard a wooden ship at sea.”

The raven laughed, a croaking sound that was ill suited to a bird, but conveyed the emotion all the same. “If you wish, I may return to Mistress, and see if she has any thoughts on this?”

I looked back to the raven, only slightly surprised that it could speak. I had figured it for a familiar when I looked into its eyes, but this simply confirmed it. “Ah, I guess that this would be the messenger that Miss Magdalin sent? Then, if there are no objections, I suggest that we start with going over what we have done, and what we have learned, since the last time we spoke.”

I took a breath, and then said, “First, you are going to need help from multiple groups of adventurers in the coming days. There is something stirring in the elven ruins, a power that could be felt from afar, warring against the Blood Moon. And, if the statues in the ground before the ruin were any indication, whoever goes that way had best be prepared with abilities to counter petrification.

“Second, you will need trained undead hunters to venture into the depths of the mine, for I do not doubt that there are horrors there waiting to be discovered, beyond what the Malarites brought with them. We found evidence that the Necromancer Lord that led to the mine’s closing may have had contact with darker, more potent powers. Trapped in a room within the mine, sealed behind wards, was an undead creature commonly raised and in the service of followers of Kiaransalee, the Drow’s Lady of the Dead.”

I took a breath, and then continued. “Now, with those two warnings out of the way, let us tell you about what we’ve found so far.”