Spin Offs, Walker Part C

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Since announcing his imminent departure, Walker had been extremely busy. He had delayed a couple of extra days and he still felt he might better serve his people by staying longer. There were other concerns of course, he was overdue to have checked in with Tipper and his sister waited for him in the northern freehold of Warskavva.

 He had hardly slept over the past few days, had seen little of Ijah and Roddarra. He had talked with Osran about her plans, she intended to go to a homestead in the Madden Hills, she had conceived. She happily agreed to travel with him. When the morning of his departure arrived, his companions had gone down to the lower bastion to see the two of them off.

Ijah was not in a great mood, she had received no answer as of yet from Igma regarding the sorceress’ intent about Swampdon. She and the other two intended to depart in two days. Walker suspected that she was also upset with him for having spent so little time with she and Roddarra during the past few days.

Still, she had given him a quick, if not warm, embrace and wished him safe travels. Roddarra had been more passionate about her goodbye and had promised to bring him and Flint horses the following year, if she was able.

Berri had been her intense, awkward self, “I’m not giving you a kiss like that.” She had commented, “How about a hug?”

“Sure,” They embraced and Walker advised, “I believe the sorceress’ claim that you are of the ellodran blood. You should know that you would be welcome in Darner’s Hold if you ever wish to visit.”

She gave him a smile, “Wow, that’s sweet of you, Walker. I’ve no real idea what will happen over the next few years. Realistically, I’ll die on the plains outside Swampdon, fighting the Tannicans, but if I don’t get myself killed I’ll come see you guys.”

Walker took the leads for Rogue, a gift from Flint, and Osran’s horse then gave the others some space to say goodbye to the half-orc. Both horses were heavily laden, Rogue with as many of the belonging of Walker’s great uncle as he could fit on the animal, Osran’s with a vast collection of weapons and bones of various sorts which included a large bear skull she was keeping for some reason.

Of Igma’s court, only The Fool had come down to see them off, there were no hugs or well wishing, just quiet scrutiny. After a final round of goodbyes he and Osran departed the necromancer’s citadel. Walker opened the ways and the two of them stepped into the realm between. Most of the buildings faded from view, the land took on an unsullied appearance and the light was dilute. As they moved along a narrow track the world around them shifted and blended at the edges of their perception. For a while the most prominent features they saw were the necropolises that Igma had enchanted at each of the villages in her small realm of Quiet Valley. By the end of the day they were near the northern border of her domain.

Osran and he said little to each other. She found travelling through the ways challenging and the weird shifting of the terrain often made her nauseous and grumpy. He thought that she might also be suffering from morning sickness, but had not asked how far along she was. As best as he could tell she was not really showing her condition, her belly appeared flat and well muscled.

He did have time to reflect on the past few days, to meditate on his experiences and to consider the things he had learned. Igma had gathered an impressive amount of lore on the drakes and their spawn, both from personal observations as well as the knowledge she gathered in the form of books and scrolls, some of which were ancient. Sadly, of the lists detailing the known drakes and in some cases the true names of the creatures, there had been none that matched the description he had been given of the sleeping dragon under the ruins in Darner’s Hold.

Timid was still engaged in research on the subject and she intended to help them fight the creature. Hopefully her studies would yield a few more gems of knowledge to give them an edge in the coming fight. At the very least, having another skilled mage helping them would be a great benefit.

His encounter with the two women in the crystal cave had been a powerful experience, life changing perhaps. Certainly beyond anything he had previously experienced during any of his past liaisons. Underneath the memories and dreams of that ecstatic experience he held a concern that he would be forever disappointed by any future encounters he may have that did not involve the necromancer. He wondered if sex with anyone else would even be of interest. He hoped that with the passage of time the intensity of that encounter would fade.

Passing through the Republic of Caffern took a few days, within the ways there was nothing to be seen of all the engineering marvels that the little nation had been producing. The lake was the most prominent feature and the hills to the east also stood out clearly in the between realm they traversed. Osran mentioned there was someone in Caffern she would like to talk to, but as she had no clear idea where said person might be, Walker had no way to accommodate her.

When the Madden Hills came into view Osran was concerned, “All that. What is it? Not see the like before.”

“That is the imprint, or the shadow the Madden Hills casts into this realm between. Much of it is necromantic energy. Some of it, like the keep there is due to large concentrations of various other magical energies. And, there is the fey-borne, attracted to this ancient land and the diverse collection of the energies that have leaked through.”

“All the crow birds to the north. Is that the crow goddess?”

Walker was surprised Osran knew of the Goddess of Crows, “It is. She persists in the Madden Hills, still incarnate despite the efforts to banish her from this land.”

“Why she be banished? Is crow goddess not good?”

“Her concerns rarely align with the well being of those who live here, she is more a being of the fey than an avatar.”

“What is avatar?”

“A physical manifestation of a god force.”

“Crow goddesses real, I like crow goddess.”

“She’s fickle.”

“I like pickle too.”

Walker lead them from the between, stepping back into the physical world was always a bit of a shock, within the ways there was no wind, weather, nor did one feel the warmth of the sun. Osran took a big breath of fresh air.

“Will you be alright making your way from here?”

“Oh, very fine, little more than a half day walk. Thank you Walker. Much help. It may be I see you next autumn, come to help you and Great Bow.”

Walker was surprised she knew anything of what they were up to, “We hunt dangerous prey.”

“Good, I like challenge.”

“Well, we’re north of the most eastern stretch of the Kaffern Hills.”

“This is north of Caffern Hills.”

“Different Kaffern, different hills. To the north of the Suddakkar?”

“No worry, I find.”

“I hope everything goes well for you.”

“It is good.”

He left her heading into the hills. He had to walk westward for three days before he was able to find a sufficiently strong point of power that would let him get to Kaymere and skirt the Madden Hills. He slept among the old burial mounds of the Loopee, taking some time to hunt and gather before continuing.

Kaymere was easy enough to find, it too was a place that made a strong imprint into the between world. When he stepped out of the ways this time it was dark and raining. He took shelter in the ruins and waited for dawn before looking for Tipper.

She was not around, but he did find a camp that seemed a likely place for her to have sheltered. She had left a few signs for him or any of the other Darners that might have arrived looking for her. He was lead to a stash of tools and a collection of large pots. Under one of the pots he found a message on a scrap of paper, tucked between two small pieces of stone. It contained one word, GreensBridge.

He had no intention of going to the city to look for her. He decided to take a days rest at the ruins before proceeding north to fetch Phantsy.

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