* The High Horn is a highway as old as the ancient Empire, and many of its mile markers still line the roadside, though they tend to be heavily weathered and covered with weeds or moss. * To the south of the road, the great forest known as the Bloodwood stands like a mist-shrouded wall. To the north, the rock-strewn grassy hills make up the foothills surrounding a canyon known as the Evenor Gorge. * A human with graying hair and a slight stoop to his back walks the High Horn, picking his way around the few paving stones that haven't been cannibalized for more recent construction or buried entirely under centuries of mud. * The human walks with a stout stick and a heavy drab cloak with the hood thrown back. He seems to be enjoying a liesurely walk during last warm days of autumn, and with the curious group of group of much younger, bright-eyed bipeds trailing along behind him he is probably just as safe on this old road as in any aristocrat's garden. * Dral1 is a happy, eager, and above all, massive Dral, towering over pretty much everybody who, y'know, isn't Dral. He looks as much like a Dral as any Dral you've ever seen, and it's kinda hard to tell him apart from any of them. * LaughingBear is slightly stouter than the average vriak, with white plumage spotted in places with gray and brown. He follows along behind the old man with light steps, a riding dog resembling a gray and white husky padding along beside him. * Dral2 is also a massive dral, although his expressionless face tells nothing of his mood. The hides he wears gives him the appearance of a furry, leafy tree. He carries a large quarterstaff that appears to be nothing more than a sturdy branch, which he uses as a walking stick as he strides down the path. * Klizurk is treading down the path carefully, clearly marked as an adventurer in armor and with sword and shield. She's a little on the large size for a Kith, but still that doesn't mean much given female Kith tend to be about four and a quarter feet tall. Her scales are on the blue side, and while she doesn't have a beard, she has a crest marked with silver highlights on her head. Kith tend to be rather distinctive, even among themselves. * The older human in the lead glances over his shoulder at his escort. "We're almost at Evenor. Respectable little place, used to be some kind of outpost back when the Empire ran things. The forest swallowed it, but it keeps coming back." He chuckles. "Back when I joined up with the Order, it was a rebel camp. Just us and the dral. The Dragonsaint hisself was there..." * LaughingBear listens with great interest as the man talks. "The Dragonsaint? You've met him?" * The human nods. "Commander Grael, too. He took us softfeet aside while the Dragonsaint was talkin' with some o' the dral elders," here he pauses to nod at the two dral following him. "I didn't pay much attention to what he said, though. Too busy starin' at the dral. Ain't been seen by civilized folk for thousands of years before that, they say." * LaughingBear nods, and the beads that modestly decorate his linen clothing jingle softly. "I've only maybe seen one or two dral in my life before coming here." He nods to the two dral respectfully. That's because we're hard to find! We're very good at hiding, you know. * Dral1 looks down at the humans, a good two feet below. It's because you guys never look up! We also like our privacy. * Klizurk looks up and pauses for a moment. "Riiiiight." * LaughingBear chuckles. "That could be it." * The older human chuckles at that. "Well, afterwards my sergeant took me aside. 'Glass,' he said, 'you spend more time listenin to your superior officers and less time ogglin' them, and you might live long enough to make corporal.' Sarge would have been surprised I made it all the way to Colonel." * Colonel Glass turns his attention back to the road. "Anyway, if we can make good on the promises I made to the Baroness up there in Evenor, one o' you is likely to make corporal, too. So stay sharp." No problem! What could possibly go wrong? Rule 1. Never say that. * LaughingBear nods again. "I'll keep that in mind." I thought rule 1 was not to talk back to the Colonel. * A cool breeze picks up on the road behind them. "The dral's right about rule one, but Klizurk's right about not temptin' fate. Anything could go wrong when the midden hits the windmill, as they say. The baroness tells me they've got some kind of curse goin' around this town. Tricky business, curses. Back in the War, we saw some..." Colonel Glass trails off here. Actually, rule 1 number one is never start a land war in the Steppes. * Klizurk grins toothily. * LaughingBear shifts the weight of his spear to his other hand and cocks his head in a birdlike fashion. "Curses, you say? What kind?" * Glass laughs at the kith's comment, and returns to the topic at hand. "Not sure exactly. It started going around years ago, but it was isolated and rare and far from town. Lately it's been getting worse. Some mill of theirs has been abandoned, and folks are coming in from the farms. With winter comin, now's not the time to leave those fields untended. Anyway, folk just sort of disappeared at first. Then they'd come back, and attack their own homes and families, like they'd gone crazy." Then they'd disappear again, or so the baroness tells me. But nowadays those same folk are coming back, only twisted all up like the monsters from back in the War days. They'll carry folk off into the night, and then sure as snow the missing turn up a few weeks later and attack their homes and families, just like the cursed ones did before them. How was it dealt with in the War days? * LaughingBear shudders a little, involuntarily. And no one knows the cause? Probably something from the wars? But if it's that, very slim chance knowing what it really was. Lot happened then. * Glass nods. "We dealt with the cursed the same way we dealt with the rest of the enemy. Fire and steel. We didn't know anything about the curse back then, and I don't think we're any better off now. The Serpent practiced stuff that the runesmiths forbade. They called it 'fleshcrafting', but we just called it the curse. May not be the same curse that created the centaur or the horrors, but then again maybe it was." We can deal with it! Damn right we can, soldier! I wouldn't have brought you out here if I thought it was something bigger than the Order. Do you know how many people this area has lost to the curse recently? It has to be noticable for them to send out specifically for people to handle it. * Colonel Glass peers ahead. "Evenor's not far now," he mutters to himself before looking back at the more stoic dral. "Recently? When I was here last it was more than a dozen. It's probably gotten worse since then. Remember, this place looks a lot bigger from the outside. The town guard's only got a handful of soldiers, and they've got... well, they're good lads but they're not cut out for the Order." * Dral2 nods. Well, it's a good thing we're here, then, sir! * The road curves to the right as it skirts the edge of a large field of hardy vegetables. Ahead, several farmhands are loading the first crops of the season into one of a pair of large silos. "This is the baroness' field. Used to belong to the temple, but..." Colonel Glass grunts. "Well, you'll see that the temple ain't what it used to be back in the days of the Empire." And thank the Order for that. * Past the silos, at the far corner of the field, is what appears to be the temple. It was once a sprawling structure, but open-aired like most of the Empire's old temples. Nowadays trees, underbrush, vines and moss have toppled walls and cracked stone. There appears to be some activity around the temple, but that activity is limited to a green-clad priest watering one of the thick vines that's brought down an old statue. * Dral2 smiles. "I think the temple looks quite nice." Yeah! More green is better! Though, perhaps it is no longer well suited to its purpose, which is a shame. * Colonel Glass grins, but says nothing. The rest of Evenor is as quiet and empty as the temple. Half-ruined buildings and barely-populated streets mark the path between the edge of town and an inn called The Lonesome Tankard. "Well," announces the colonel as they reach the darkened building, "this'll be our headquarters for now." * LaughingBear studies the building thoughtfully. Not many people here. Maybe they all ran away? Well, not all. Most? Some? You know what I mean. Maybe. Is it the curse that scared everyone off? * The inn is a modest building, two stories tall and plainly furnished. The only soul inside--as is proved when Colonel Glass shoulders the door open--is a frail-looking creature with rubbery, rust-colored skin and webbed fingers. The creature's head appears to have replaced by some kind of tentacled ocean animal, and it blinks its large black eyes owlishly against the afternoon light allowed in by the front door. "Ah," it says in a raspy voice. "Colonel Glass. And the new Order of the Dragonsaint, I presume?" * LaughingBear observes the innkeeper unabashedly with intense interest. No, we're the old Order, we've just been reincarnated! * Klizurk snickers. * Colonel Grass chuckles, and the strange creature tilts its head at the noisier of the two dral. "Truly? Then I suppose I have seen every-- no, wait. ALMOST everything." * LaughingBear gestures in greeting. "A pleasure to meet you." * Klizurk bows. "It would certainly be something to cross off the list." * Dral2 nods. "Greetings." * The creature bows deeply, and its rather ordinary-looking clothing swishes with the motion. "And you, soldiers. Your commanding officer has paid for your rooms one week in advance. Be aware that the Lonesome Tankard is normally more crowded than this. Especially in the evenings. I am K'rayig, but everyone around here just calls me Craig. We'll take care of your animals and your gear as long as your here, so you can get on with the more important business of curing this... wretched curse." Thank you, Craig. My pleasure. If there's anything else you need, do not hesitate to ask me, or any of my employees. Unless you plan to ask for something other than vegetable stew. I'm afraid that's all there is to eat these days. ...right, hunting it is. * LaughingBear bows his head appreciatively. * Colonel Glass snorts. "They're soldiers, they can handle it. We're going to want to get started first thing in the morning, Craig, and I've been out mustering the troops. Where should we start?" * Craig tilts his head again, and then turns his attention to the recruits. "Straight to the point. I suggest the Mavis farm. Goodman Mavis was taken by the cursed shortly after you left, and he hasn't been back to his house since then. It's been about three weeks, so we expect him to... come back soon." * LaughingBear's feathers lift a bit from his skin. "Ah." So three weeks is the time they usually take to, ah, return? * Craig nods. "So we've noticed. I could not say if it were always the case, but nearly a month after the first men went missing from the lumber mill, the rest were... taken." * The Colonel frowns. "Okay, soldiers. This is going to be a simple guard job. We'll stay at the farm until Goodman Mavis shows up, and--" * Craig interrupts. "Ah, sir. The baroness wants to put a stop the curse by... capturing Goodman Mavis. And studying him." The curse...it's not contagious, is it? I hope not. Otherwise you could have bigger problems on your hands if you want to try a capture. * One of the tentacles on Craig's face twitches. "We're not sure if the curse is spread by contact with the cursed, or by some ritual to which they submit those that they capture." * LaughingBear nods grimly. "I suppose capturing him without contact might be safer. Perhaps we can construct some sort of trap?" Just dig me a hole. What, do you have some sort of trap expertise? * Colonel Glass sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "A trap might be for the best, but... Excuse me, soldiers. I need to have a word with Craig in private." The human and the innkeeper move away from the new (or old but reincarnated) Order as the troops discuss tactics and abilities. Nah. If I did, _I'd_ dig the hole. * LaughingBear allows the Colonel and innkeeper their privacy. "I can trap animals for food, but I don't know much beyond that about traps." We may want to see the farm first. Look at our surroundings and decide on where to catch him from there. Dig a big hole. Throw man in hole. How hard can it be? Do that without touching the man. I can do that. * LaughingBear chuckles. "I think it's worth a try, especially since you make it sound so simple, ah...I don't think I caught your name." * Dral1 blinks. "My what?" Name? What people call you. "hey you" * LaughingBear blinks. Unless you're the Colonel, in which case, "Hey, stupid!" You don't go by a name? Why would I buy a name? Because they're cheap and handy. I don't think I have enough money. * LaughingBear opens his beak to speak, then abruptly bursts out laughing. * At that point, the conversation between the elder occupants of the rooms grows a bit heated. Craig rasps something about not being a messenger before lowering his voice again. After a little while longer, Colonel Glass returns to his troops while Craig retires to the kitchen and out of sight. I only have ten golds. I don't think that's enough golds. * LaughingBear shuts his trap and turns back toward the Colonel and innkeeper. There's been a slight change of plans. You troops are going to have to go ahead to the farm ahead of me tomorrow. I have to have an audience with the baroness, and I'll catch up with you as quickly as I can. I'd keep you back with me, but we can't miss the chance to take down a cursed, no matter what the circumstances. Can you handle it? * Klizurk nods. "Of course." * LaughingBear nods immediately. "We will do our best, Colonel." * Dral1 salutes vigorously. "We'll handle it, SIR!" * Dral1 rubs his forehead where he bruised it. * Klizurk eyes Dral1. "You're trying too hard." * LaughingBear stifles a snigger. * The Colonel returns that salute crisply, apparently choosing to ignore the recruit's botched attempt. "You should have all day to prepare, at least. From what I've heard, these cursed seem to be most active starting around dusk. Let's get a good night's rest, troops." He seems about to add something more, but holds back. Good luck, tomorrow, Sir. Yes, good luck, sir. * LaughingBear looks at the Colonel expectantly, wondering if he'll say something else. * The Colonel nods his thanks. He seems much less excited about his audience with the baroness than he was about fighting a curse-spawned beast man. * Klizurk salutes the Colonel. "Yes sir. Is there anything else you would like to add?" Excuse me, sir, but was there something else you were going to say? * The Colonel hesitates, and finally adds, "Just that I mean it about the rest. Nothing I can say will prepare you for facing off against a cursed. You'll need to be as sharp as you've ever been." Good night, soldiers. Good night, sir! Good night, sir! Good night, sir! * Dral2 salutes.