Chronicles of Ashkara

“You are not welcome here.. You will all leave, or you will all die.” Comes the hoarse whisper from outside of the warm, yellow glow of their torches.

Several pairs of eyes shine on the edge of the light, one pair notably taller than the others.

The taller figure steps forward and into the light…

Near seven feet tall, inhumanly slender and with twisted limbs like the silvery branches of a birch, the elder kithari stands flanked by several spryggan companions, fellow guardians of the forest. It’s hair is long and silky, tendrils of ivy and flowers tangled throughout.

The kithari demands the group leave, stating that they are unwelcome intruders and are hurting the forest with their logging, taking what is not theirs and selfishly using it for themselves.

A lengthy discourse ensued, with Braak and Fetor arguing that Galefrond intended that everyone should benefit from the bounty of the wilderness and that they are only taking what they need to survive. The kithari disagreed, it’s previous experience with urrok, humans and ogres taught it that urrok and ogres in particular were only interested in conflict, pillaging and selfishness.

Although both the kithari and it’s companions seem hostile to the group, they listened to their reasoning, Okay and Braak’s greetings from Bragor and the arguments from Fetor regarding what constituted nature’s bounty. They seemed unmoved by the plight of Gregor and the other humans, though after some further debate and offers of a compromise, they allowed the group to take any dead wood they could find, so long as they left the area at first light and did not return. The kithari suggested that there were far more of their kin in the depths of the forest and that they would not allow the group to stay any longer near their domain.

Considering this a victory of sorts, Braak and Okay told Gregor and his companions that the influence of Bragor’s reputation had saved their skins and together they all agreed to the kithari’s terms and settled down for the remainder of the night.

As agreed, at first light they all broke camp with Gregor and his friends setting off with what small amount of wood they had gathered, heading south back towards one of the small villages in the Tyranny. Braak, Fetor and Okay resumed their expedition to the east, seeking the cave marked on Okay’s map.

Setting off with Fetor taking the lead, the group made good progress with the weather staying favourable as the land before them changed from plains to foothills that rose up toward low mountains. At some point Fetor attracted the interest of a crow, which seemed to follow the dwarf for a time on the ground only to fly off if he got too close. Time and again over the morning Fetor would find the crow over the next rise, stood on the ground only to have the bird fly off cawing at him. Reginald, as Fetor had named him, followed the group as they went, occasionally circling overhead before landing close to the dwarf.

Several hours passed as the party travelled until Braak spotted three figures in the distance, slowly moving across a ridge. Venturing closer, Fetor noticed they were dwarves, their armour dulled and adorned with grim trophies; bones and teeth were hung around their necks, pinned and tied to their suits of chain and plate.

Death Seekers… Young dwarves who intended that their lives would be remembered by their legendary deeds, slaying monsters, fighting the enemies of their holds and dying in glorious battles rather than growing old and fading into the heart of their mountain holds as was the way of the ancient ones.

Fetor’s presence was given away by Reginald’s call as he landed near the outcast dwarf, and the Death Seekers angrily told Fetor to be quiet – they were tracking a DRAGON!

TO BE CONTINUTED…