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Honeyclover

by Rick

The bears let us investigate the corposes. I collected their traps as evidence, and sprinkled some wildflowers as an offering.

I pet one bear. It was... intense.

We reconvened at the nearby river, where a human was fishing peacefully. Had he not heard the fighting or the hunters? His lute-playing might have kept him distracted enough, I guess.

There was another, and soon I realized they were administering the fisherman's last rites. "A prayer to Pharasma," they explained -- the goddess Who Leads.

"I am Tiberius, a Warden of Pharasma," the cleric introduced (himself).

Hard Times

Next to the scene in the woods was Castille, one of the hunters we sought. He was the one who found us, rather, but was patient enough to talk first. Castille spoke of a workers' strike -- with the intention to be paid without working. When confronted by his employer, Castille and the forty-something workers with him left the nines.

He offered to introduce us to Grim Ben, though that would require overnighting in the forest and with the strikers.

Curie and Tiberius would take the dead captain of Erta, Bill Donovan, back to town (for proper burial). They met Bill's brother (purportedly), and his family, before heading back to the woods.

Camp Dryrock

We rest went to meet this Grim Ben. His fort, called Camp Dryrock by the strikers, was built on the foundation of some castle from before their arrival.

While walking, Castille confirmed that his gang were the ones trapping the bears -- "But they were smart, too smart for beasts" [Lycans?] -- but had moved on to hunting deer (with equally poor luck). Definitely a question to ask Verdant later.

Ten minutes later, Castille returned with a warhammer-wielding, grizzled ranger-type. "Looks like dad," I murmured -- but this was Grim Ben. He was very concerned with his gang having their independence from Erta in Camp Dryrock.

Bearing it

Information gathered, we returned to the forest to investigate further. Anko brought us back to the bears' den, where we collected a good collection -- a hoard, if you will. Lily made it known that we were being watched by larger bears as we divvied up our reward.

There was one, larger than the rest. It saw me, locked eyes, and slowly she descended her tree to face me. I watched, motionless, until she turned around and returned to her tree.

We followed. The inside of the tree, hidden by a crack of wood, was immense. Far too small for the bears we had seen, but enough for us to fit inside a small wooden cavern. The largest bear, Wren, spoke to us as if through magic. Nothing about this forest surprised me anymore.

Wren told us of tunnels to the north, and a stump in a clearing that led deep into the earth.

Continue reading...

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Honeyclover

Hard Times

Camp Dryrock

Bearing it

Continue reading...

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