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4/18 The feast last night was a bit of a trial for me, but everything went relatively smoothly. I am happy to report that none of my people except Alfredus got drunk, although everyone had ample opportunity; and Alfredus was not seriously drunk in comparison to our hosts, with whom he may reasonably be said to have only kept up as a matter of courtesy. Milell and her daughter had been inclined to cast appraising glances at Decimus earlier in the day, but by the time we sat down to dinner they had exchanged these for stony glares at Tamara, who for her part looks smug and unperturbed. However, whatever she did to stake her territory, it has not created overt hostility toward the rest of us, so I am ignoring it and pretending to be as oblivious as Decimus himself, who barely seemed aware there were women in the room. I believe he is completely absorbed in the study of the nexus. Today, instead of going wild pig hunting with the other men, he grew himself some wings and flew up to determine the extent of the nexus's vertical dimension. It turns out to extend some 100 feet into the air, so that if Uncle desires, he can merely build a blind tower with a teleport circle in it, and involve himself with these people no more than by lowering a basket with the rent in it once a year. I have spent the day sewing with the women, acquiring useful phrases and picking up the gossip. Millel's youngest boy is eleven and a great disappointment to his brother, a quiet boy with no great aptitude for arms. I asked if he showed any magical aptitude, and since there are no local wizards at all (!) she didn't know. Therefore I suggested to Decimus that he take the boy to the nexus and see if he could feel the power, and he can; so I have recommended to Millel that she look into the matter, bolstering the recommendation with accounts of the usefulness of magic in combat situations, which seems to be the only criterion these people apply, at least among the nobility. As far as I can tell there are no Orusians among them (ethnographic notes and observations about the temples omitted). 4/19: More hunting, more drinking, more sewing. Had a little talk with Sven; I don't think his soul's in any particular peril. Robyn, aware that our itemized rowboat and cart would shortly grow to full size and that they will not be needed on the road home, swapped them for fresh provisions. Decimus observed Mandrin being excessively hard on his little brother in arms drill, although he looked as competent as you would expect a child of that age to be, and taught the boy a couple of small cantrips. 4/20: On days like this, I seem to be more of a liability than an asset. We departed Dun Glendor this morning, and before lunch I was pounced on by a manticore! That's all I recall of that combat. I gather from the others that Alfredus leaped onto the thing's back to keep it from flying off with me and attempted to strangle it with his bare hands. Very brave, but perhaps foolish. He had some nasty wounds were in his back, from the thing flailing at him with the spikes in its tail. Decimus just as recklessly ran up to give me his potion of healing, and succeeded, but got severely mauled by the manticore for his pains, and fell unconscious beside me. I remember this part as a vague roaring and thumping, and a complete inability to force my eyes open. While Alfredus and Robyn distracted the monster, Tamara administered her potion to Decimus. Robyn was then so badly hurt that he felt it necessary to step back and drink *his* healing potion while Tamara and Alfredus finished off the manticore, which I am pleased to say they did without any further severe maulings. Alfredus then gave me the last potion, and I went around the ring with my wand, healing everyone in turn until we were all well again. I should have spent the last two days brewing healing potions instead of sewing and gossiping! We collected the manticore's spikes and discussed going in search of it's lair. It seemed to us likely to have come from the abandoned hill fort. I admit I was not eager, in case there was a mate; but by the same token, it was a horrid monster to leave at our backs and within preying distance of Dun Glendar. The sense of the others was unanimous that we should seek it out, so I did not argue, determining that if we did indeed meet a mate, I would cast Sanctuary on myself and make no attempt to fight, but stand back ready to rush in and heal anyone who was hurt. In the event, we found nothing but a foul nest and some assorted coinage, some of it quite rare and potentially valuable to a collector. 4/21: These hills are simply alive with flying predators! A griffin was attracted by our horses today. Since we have no healing potions, and flying things seem to prefer me to all other meat, I cast Sanctuary on myself as soon as we saw it, and the others, save Robyn, peppered it with missiles. Robyn cut a spare horse loose, which I thought should be the end of it; but as it began to feast Decimus argued that it was now likely to regard us as the Source of Free Horses and follow us; also that its presence posed a threat to the hospitable Striking Hawks, into whose territory we are moving. Alfredus, conversely, wanted to capture and tame it. Tamara, of course, sided with Decimus; and he also convinced Robyn. I was willing enough to go off and leave it, but Decimus had a point about the Hawks, and I admit I was tempted by all those beautiful feathers, which have many wonderful uses. In the end, we dispatched it, not without some difficulty. Alfredus then argued that an adult female in spring was likely to have a mate and a nest with eggs, and that if we were eliminating griffins as a favor to the Hawks, we should eliminate all of them - the mate by killing and the eggs by robbing. I thought it a hazardous enterprise, but couldn't help but feel that I owed him support after the reckless way he leapt to my assistance with the manticore - besides which, his logic was consistent, and, if he really could train up a tame griffin, it would be wonderful. Unlike the manticore, a griffin is as beautiful as it is fierce. So we left Sven and Olaf in charge of the horses, assembled our climbing gear, and went in search of a griffin lair, which we were fortunate enough to find. How Robyn locates these things I can't imagine. I was lost within five minutes. The male was not brooding the eggs, but was keeping a lookout - mostly at the sky. I doubt there are many landbound predators that ever get hungry enough to steal griffin eggs! I grew even more doubtful about the project when I saw him, but it was too late to back down now. We climbed up the blind side of the butte, and Alfredus, Tamara, and Robyn attempted to sneak up on the griffin. When they engaged it, I came up with my wand and Decimus with his spells. The thing was peculiarly savage with Alfredus, who went into the barbarian battle rage and quite frightened me, but I hit him with the wand as often as he got wounded, and we had no more near-deaths to deal with. He grew frustrated after several attempts to strike it failed, and yelled something about it being my fault for looking at him - at least, I think that's what he said - but I don't suppose battle ragers mean what they say once they return to their right minds. I know barbarians are superstitious, but he can't seriously believe I have the evil eye? The notion bothers me, but it sounds so ridiculous I hate to bring it up. No doubt I misunderstood him. It was a messy business, but we were both victorious and rewarded - there were four eggs in the nest! These would bring about 3,500 solidii apiece on the open market, but the general sense is that we would prefer not to sell them, though the fact that there are five of us and four of them makes division problematic. I would love to have one, but after all, I didn't strike a blow, and I'd have left them all alone once Robyn sacrificed the horse. However, as Robyn says, there's time to decide who gets one after we successfully get them home. We packed them in their father's feathers, double-wrapped them in our cloaks, and sent Decimus, temporarily winged, to carry them back to the horses. The shells seem tough, but we have taken elaborate precautions to keep from harming them or permitting them to cool, and I have given up Milkweed, as the horse with the steadiest gait, to carry them. 4/22: More Striking Hawks; not the ones we met before, but they had met our friends and seemed pleased to hear that our business was safely conducted. We told them we had killed two griffins, but did not mention the eggs, there being no need to put temptation in anyone's way. They approved, saying that griffins ate horses that are sacred to their gods. Alas, I do not have the courage to be an evangelist in this area: I put my tongue between my teeth, and let it go. It is a shame that such friendly people should be so benighted, but I don't think I'm the one to convert them, certainly not when so many Orusians are in my charge and feel obliged to protect me, and when the mission to my uncle is yet unfinished. Or am I rationalizing? Civilization tomorrow. I will call on the priest there and see what he thinks. We heard, but did not see, wolves at dusk. 4/23 We saw hippogriffs in the afternoon, but they were evidently not hungry. Civilization! I went first to the baths and second to the Tribune's house, to report our safe return and have a proper visit with his wife. Robyn has hired a place on a barge, as safer for the eggs, so we will bid farewell to our horses. I wonder if Milkweed will think herself well rid of her monster-attractant rider! It will be a couple of days before the barge leaves, so Decimus and I will be making potions, I can talk to the priest, and we can catch up on some decent sleep. Alfredus and Robyn seem to regret leaving the wilderness, however. They have decided to take an excursion into the forest, for Alfredus to practice moving silently through dried leaves or some such, and I have raised no objections. They aren't going far, and after all Robyn traveled alone through similar terrain and survived, when he first came to the Empire. 4/24: (Account of discussion with local priest re: missionaries to the barbarians, mention that Tamara made her first confession to Sofia, news of the Empire, other minor matters omitted) 4/26: Well, that was a mistake! Robyn brought Alfredus back half-dead, accompanied by a pair of dead worgs! It seems they were treed by four of them, and Alfredus, running out of things to hurl at them, leaped down, set his back to a tree, and faced three at once while Robyn shot at them with his bow. After they killed two, the others ran away, leaving Alfredus a bleeding heap. Robyn patched him up and brought him back, and I've healed him, and he's now in bed complaining that I won't let him up or permit anyone to bring him anything stronger than small beer. Worg bites can be very nasty and I want to be sure I don't have to cure any diseases. That barbarian has more courage than common sense, and this is the last harebrained expedition in search of trouble I ever authorize! I have half a mind to burn the worg skins - wearing them as a cloak will only encourage him to boast of his foolhardiness. (This is not all that happened on the side trip, but it's as much as Sofia knows about at this point. Part of it doesn't seem like the sort of thing eiter party would tell her.)
Last Updated:
Saturday, 26-Apr-2003 21:25:54 CDT
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