Dollano 7, SP~4,909

Mountains

We’ve been on the move for the last week, heading northeast on the Terrimand Road toward the city of Berimandry. Berimandry is Shawmancer’s second largest city. It is a port city on the easternmost point of Shawmancer Island, with the open ocean to the south and east, the flat plains to its west and the great Berimandry Mountain Range to the north.

The days have been long ones. We’ve had the benefit of traveling on a road rather than the rough lands around us, it’s not been entirely easy. The Terrimand Road is the finest road on Shawmancer Island and, from what I’ve seen, it’s barely more than a wide path covered here and there with gravel or stone.

We avoided other travelers. Donnessling had scouts in front of us and behind on the road who would let us know if anyone approached. I was surprised at how many folk we encountered — had to hide from. We frequently had to leave the highway and hide in whatever was nearby. The road parallels the coast line, so there were often bluffs to our east where we could find a place, and each night we carefully made our way down the bluffs to the small bit of rocky beach and would camp there for the night. There were a lot of cold nights, with usually a very small fire. Donnessling’s folk seemed not to notice any of the cold. In fact, they often went into the freezing ocean waters to wash and play at the end of a day, and let the water just drip away after a while. No towels. These guys have internal heaters, I swear!

For me, though, it was the kind of cold that went right through you. Wet and windy. I tried not to shake with the bitterness of it, but didn’t do a very good job of that. A couple of Donnessling’s folk “asked” if I would mind wearing one of their hide coats. I made it clear that I would, but only out of politeness. I really wasn’t fooling anyone, not even myself. But, the coats were beautifully made, and just completely warm. I put one on and the cold just disappeared.

NOTE TO SELF: There’s a lot more to the nossring than meets the eyes. Dig in and find out!

The only time we weren’t walking was at the end of the day, and by then I was too tired and my fingers were too cold to do any writing.

Today, though, we were just a couple miles outside of Berimandry when Donnessling suddenly turned us off the road and we headed directly north to the mountains. By the end of the day, we were camped in the foothills, in a cut that hid us from any onlookers or passersby, so we have a roaring fire going right now. It feels great. We also found some good fruit trees and a few of our team went hunting and brought back a large deer. We all ate well.

While I was finishing up these notes, Donnessling came up to tell me that we’re on the edge of the territory of the Begkragk Dwarf Kingdom, and tomorrow we will travel to their mountain home. He told me that the nossring and the Bekgragk have a strong alliance, and then he warned me that these dwarves don’t like “southerners”, and especially not those from Naldrin City. So, he has a plan to introduce me in a way that he hopes will ease any tensions.

As curious as I am to find out more about these dwarves (curiosity will be my downfall!) I put the question to Donnessling, “Why can’t I just go back to Partameer?” He was expecting that question, and gave me two reasons. The first was that there were folk in Partameer who wanted me dead. He didn’t need to prove that to me given the thugs they fought off. I got the impression, though, from the way he said it that it was more than just a small group that wanted me out of the way. That worried me, but he wouldn’t say more, and instead told me his second reason for not taking me to Partameer. He and his nossring kin could not be delayed in their mission on Shawmancer Island. He put up his hand to stop me when I started to ask more and said, “Once you see what we are doing here, you will have no regrets for being in our company.” There was a look in his eyes; honest, unwavering, and brooking no further discussion.

So that was that. He went off to his folk, and I am finishing this and then heading to sleep.

Just thinking that what my assignment has turned into is a whole lot more interesting than what was originally given to me.

Don’t forget to get a blink bat off to Bobby. I was hoping to do that in Berimandry, but that’s not going to happen. Maybe these dwarves have blink bats, or something similar.

Too tired to write more.

Dollano 1, SP~4,909

Arrived

I’ve had too much rest now, and it’s time for me to be back on my own two feet. I made that very clear to Donnessling earlier. He knew not to argue (I’m liking that guy more as time goes by).

But, I’m getting ahead of myself. I have some time now to write again. That’s a great relief. First, though, I have to finish the story I started yesterday.

I’ll begin with the battle on the bridge. I have to confess that I don’t really remember any of it. As I said yesterday, I was busy drowning in the river below the bridge, so all I know about the battle on the bridge is what I heard from Donnessling and his kin.

The fight was between Donnessling and his nossring against five thugs. These were the thugs that had the pleasure, for several days, of beating me into a pile of broken bones and bruises. And, they were about to top off the fun by tossing me off a tall bridge. Hope they really enjoyed all that because now they’re all dead, thanks to the nossring. All I can say is that it was a just reward for their dedicated efforts.

The nossring made short order of these brutish thugs, though, it turns out, they were strong fighters and they were not easy to defeat. They seemed like men to me, but turns out they weren’t. Donnessling explained that they were what are called Shawmen. They’re an ancient race that has lived in the mountains of Shawmancer Island since the beginning of this Era; so for over five thousand years. They’re some kind of cross between humans, and rocks. It doesn’t make much sense to me, which is to say it doesn’t make any sense to me that you can blend any living folk with rocks, but Donnessling assured me that some rocks are of a different kind; a kind that have some piece of life, or Spirit Energy, that got into them long ago, and it makes them alive in some way.

I’m not writing an academic paper so, I’ll leave the history lesson there and just say that it was no easy thing for the nossring to dispatch them. To be specific, they were tough to kill and they had a tendency not to stay dead. That last part did not warm my heart, but they’re not undead. No, that’s another story.

In the end the nossring managed to kill them all, and, though they suffered many wounds, none died in the battle. I’m really glad for that. The idea that these nossring were willing to fight for me is a debt I owe them all, and I pay my debts. But, if any of them had actually died, then that would be a debt too deep to manage, and a terrible burden.

None of the nossring would share details of the battle with me, so that’s that. After it was over, though, and after they fished me out of the river, the nossring took me to a hiding place in the forest nearby. We stayed there for a day as they saved my life and nursed their own grievous wounds. Donnessling said I was pretty close to dying; just half a minute more under the waters and I would have been beyond recovery.

I don’t remember much of the days after that. I could tell I was being carried on some kind of a make-shift stretcher. I remember I was strapped in. I remember that because I recall, vividly, several times when I was being carried, or maybe pulled up, a steep mountain-side. Now that was a bit of a surprise. I wake up and there I am staring out at … well, nothing but the valley below. I do remember wondering if I had died and was in some kind of wilderness after-life.

But, I won’t be carried any more!

When I made that clear to Donnessling he laughed and nodded in agreement. That completely surprised me until he pointed for me to look behind me. I saw we were on the side of a tall mountain looking down thousands of feet to the rolling plains below us. When I turned back to him (and I’m sure my mouth was wide open — NOTE TO SELF: got to be more careful about that in future!), he pointed up. There, about ten yards up a rough path along the mountainside I could see the nossring brushing aside some vines that hung over the rockface and disappear into something behind the vines.

“We are here, Rhonda,” said Donnessling. “Our folk have long known of this place, a place of safety and refuge, and we welcome you to join us.”

With that he nodded to a nossring standing behind me, “Elthling, you will assist Rhonda the rest of the way,” and then looking at my already angry face, he continued, “should she need assistance.”

He then walked up the path, parted the vines as his kin had done and disappeared into the mountain.

I looked back at Elthling. He smiled but then quickly looked away. I made my way the remainder of the path. I didn’t say anything, but I definitely appreciated that Elthling was quiet about how slowly I was moving.

When I reached the vines, I parted them as I had seen the others do. There was no rock, only darkness. As my eyes adjusted I could see I was looking into a long cave. It was virtually invisible from outside, hidden by the thick vines, but inside I could see that it was wide and deep with plenty of room for our group of a dozen, and was large enough to accommodate many more.

Elthling stepped around me and, very courteously, offered to show me to my bunk in the cave. I followed as he led me to an area mid-way back where there was a comfortable bunk set up with some rough shelves on the wall beside it.

He told me it was mine. It looked wonderful! I think I said something, possibly a thank you. Whatever it was, Elthling gave a nod of his head and offered to show me the rest of the cave.

He led me further back where streams of fresh water ran down the wall and into a small pool at its base. The water was cool and refreshing and had a wonderful mineral flavor. Just on the other side of this small waterfall, there were shelves of food. It looked like quite a bit and a good variety, especially for a cave. I could see the cave went on, and asked Elthling what was there. He took me to the back of the cave. There at the end was a narrow tunnel. It looked mostly natural, but it was clear that some work had been done to shape it; to make the sides slightly wider and remove the sharp edges of the stone. I asked where it went. Elthling would only say that it didn’t go far. I could tell he wasn’t telling me the truth. For now, though, that was alright. He and his kin had just saved my life and I would allow them their secrets. We all have our secrets, and Donnessling, not Elthling, is the one I will ask about this one.

I’m tired now. It feels good to have told the complete story (though not the whole of it — that is for another day). I now must get some rest. I would never say it to Elthling, or any of them, but the short walk took more out of me than I had expected, and I felt a strong need to lie down.

For now, there are many mysteries that I must unravel. All of them are good, though, I hope. There is also that, at this moment, I am with good folk and I’m safe, and that is enough.

Well, not quite enough! I almost forgot. I need to let Bobby know that I’m alive and safe. More than that, I need to find out if he’s safe, too (and alive). I haven’t sent a blink bat in many days and he’ll be worrying.

That’s right, Bobby, you’re a worrier just like your big sister!

And, now, for a soft bunk.

Kogu 60, SP~4,909

Rescue

It’s been days since I wrote.  It feels good to have a real pen in hand and actual paper, and not just scraps.

A lot has happened, so a lot to tell.

I’ll start with, well, I was rescued! I thought I was dead, or about to be. The last time I wrote there were three thugs about to kill me. Their boss, whoever that was (is), gave them their orders. When they finished getting their orders, they came back, gave me a hard kick to the head and next thing I knew, I was standing on a bridge. Actually, I couldn’t stand. I noticed that first, and then noticed that the reason I was upright was because two of the thugs were holding me up, and they weren’t very gentle about it. As I came to, I realized that the other thug was giving me a nice talking to. Well, nice for him. He certainly seemed to be enjoying it. He got particularly excited when he saw I was coming to and could actually understand his babble. That’s when he used a short blade to add a few cuts down my side to help make his point. He looked close to see my reaction. I knew he wanted to see me beg for my life before they got it over with. I didn’t give him any satisfaction on that account, and told them the shoes were one size too small, like his privates. That earned me one more long, slow cut.

That’s when he’d had enough of the fun. He grabbed my head and forced me to look down at my feet. “We made you some nice stone shoes, pretty-face.” I could see that each of my feet were stuffed into canvas bags full of rocks and tied off nice and tight so I couldn’t wiggle out. I could also see the river below. It looked big, and deep.

“Yes, pretty face, now it’s time for a swim!” I remember those words exactly because I thought they were the last ones I’d ever hear. Then I felt hands grab me and I was up and over the railing. As I fell, I could hear their laughter, and then, just before I hit the water, I was surprised to hear a clang of steel and some unpleasant cries of surprise. I didn’t really think much about it because I was busy drowning.

Next thing I knew I was being dragged out of the river. I threw up water, and heard a couple voices saying something to me, and I could feel the bags being cut away from my feet.

Then several friendly hands set me on a soft patch of ground under a tree. Someone leaned down to look me in the eyes, and I saw a familiar face. He looked worried.

“Do you know who I am?” he said, and I said back, “No, Donnessling, not a clue.”

Then I passed out again.

I woke up in this place later that day, so they told me.

That was three days ago. There’s more to tell, but no more today.

I need to find out how Bobby is.

It’s good to be writing again!

Lost hope today

Capture (again)

I was captured, again, today. I had fallen asleep in the warehouse. I don’t know for how long. When I woke it was dark, and I could barely move. I ached from my cuts and bruises, and had not eaten in … I don’t know. For a while.

Note to Self: Stop complaining Rhonda!

I could see some light. It was torches, and I thought I was rescued. Then I heard the voices. The same guttural mouth-mess. The same coarse words in the same foul dialect. It was the same bastards that had been my jailors. That’s when I knew it was over, and I was done.

They started by getting my attention, by jamming the hot-end of one of the torches onto my arm. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt that kind of pain before. Lucky for me, it was not my writing arm.

Then they dragged me about a mile to this new place, wherever it is. I guess it was too much trouble to carry me. I’m writing this while they talk to the boss to find out what to do with me. I’m hoping someone will find it after I’m gone.

They’re coming back.

A worse day

Escape

I’m sitting in a pool of stagnant water, in a warehouse somewhere in Partameer. I escaped today.

They came this morning as usual. I thought it was going to be another round of “beat the southerner”, but it looked like they’d had enough. Some guy — I couldn’t see him — was telling my usual three jailers to “get her the hell out of here, and take her to Naller.” Whoever this Naller is, it sounded like they were much more experienced at “extracting” information from unwilling folks like me. I’ll call it torture. Scared the hell out of me, but I didn’t get a chance to say anything because they quickly gagged me, blindfolded me, and tied my hands, and started taking me out of whatever place they had me in.

At first I felt wooden floors, and then we were outside. There was a slight wind.

They were leading me somewhere, I think down some alleyways or some place where buildings were close by on either side, and then all of a sudden, I heard the fight.

I found myself in the middle of it, and knocked to the ground. It sounded like quite a tussle, but I wasn’t going to wait around to see who won. I had no faith that anybody was on my side.

I managed to pull off the blindfold, and saw I was, in fact, in an alleyway. It was night, so it was dark. No street lights. I just ran. Nobody noticed. They were too busy beating on each other. I ran quite a ways. Turning a corner I tripped over something in the street (a dog carcass, I think). Got scratched up pretty bad, but it was also lucky. My view from lying face-down on the street I could see a small opening in the wall of the building next to me. I managed to crawl in, and just in time. I could hear several folk running by. They were looking for me.

Turns out I’m in a cold warehouse. It holds fish, a lot of fish, so I found a crate I could hide under and pulled some of the fish on top of me.

For the last hour I’ve been trying not to wretch from the smell, and trying not to freeze to death. If I sleep, I might not wake up.

Writing helps keep me awake. Thinking about Bobby and hoping he’s okay. Just thinking about him in a war in Naldrin makes me so mad! Good. That keeps my heat up.

Writing helps. I love to write. Always have.

Too cold. Hard to get my fingers go

A bad day

Three of them

I’m writing this in a hurry. They just left. Three of them; an ushen (I was right!) and two humans.

All three are scoundrels, bullies, the kind of folk that really enjoy dishing out the punishment. They did a number on me. I can barely write, but I’m madder than a heolas in hell so here goes!

They keep asking me where the “stone” is. Sometimes they call it an “eye”. I don’t know what they’re talking about. The asked about my Nossring “buddies”. I told him I don’t know any Nossring. That got a fist in the face and a couple of lashes.

 —-

They came back before I expected it, so I had to stop, but getting back to it now while it’s still the same day. I think I passed out for a few minutes or maybe longer. Hard to tell when there’s no sunlight.

My jailors seem to be from Shawmancer. They were mostly speaking some kind of strong local dialect. I could pick out some of it from working with the folks at the paper. Most of the “dialogue” was non-verbal. Punching and slapping were their favorites, though they liked to kick the hell out of me if I fell down. They took that as a sign of disrespect. Metal-shod boots didn’t help. They looked familiar; a particular make. Maybe the boots of beast riders.

One of the human’s is named Torshan. The ushen called him, which got Torshan pissed, so he gave a hard jab in the ushen’s ribs. I could see it hurt the ushen. That was definitely the highlight of my day.

This “stone” that they’re looking for seems to be something powerful, and they seem to want it badly. I think for someone else; for whoever it is they work for.

—-

I think I passed out again. Not sure what time of day, or night, it is. I need to find out who they’re working for, and why they think I know where this stone is. I think it’s because of the nossring I met on the ship. There always did seem to be something more to those guys than they were saying.

No food today.