A Ride In The Countryside (Att: Ubriel)

[Prew]

“Ah ha! Good work, Ubriel Gaidar!” Prewtez exclaimed as she made her discovery. Better to focus on that than on the disturbing picture she had painted of the Blight. It was far a worse place than he could have dreamed, a place of nightmares come to life. Giant worms, sticks, deformed creatures, even the flora sounded dangerous. Oh, he definitely needed to learn more before he dare venture into that blasted land himself.

As he watched her gather the morels and place them in her bag, he thought about what he needed to ask.

“They say the days there are hot and dry though the nights turn cold. I’ve also heard it said that the seals on the Dark One’s prison are weakening and that the Blight is spreading. Could this be true? Are these creatures then spreading into the Borderlands as well?” He paused, considering the possibility, “And these worms, can they be killed other than with the One Power?” Her suggestion of joining a patrol was a wise one but he needed to learn as much as he could about the dangers he might encounter before volunteering.

OOC: Then I needn’t worry about a 200 word minimum?

[Bree]

Ubriel sat back on her heels, her uniform tied beneath her spreading abdomen and her bag of fungal treasure before her. She rooted around in the bag and blew at a stray curl falling across her cheek. Nodding to herself she set the bag to one side and pulled her waterskin from its place attached to her belt. "It is spreading. There is no doubt about that but the creatures of the Blight do not seem to be able to, or perhaps they don't want to venture too much south of the Blight border. Perhaps it is the oddity of the weather and the sudden change that happens at the border. It is quite warm and very humid. It makes for a miasmic and sickly stench that hangs in the air. The nights aren't really frigid but they do cool significantly. It does nothing for the smell."

She took a long draw from the waterskin and offered it to Prew. "The things that tend to find their way south are the trollocs, myrddraal, draghkar and dark hounds. Those are hard enough to kill. A worm, which can indeed be killed by mundane weapons, would be devastating. It would take a whole platoon of soldiers to take down a single worm and if any of them survived, there would be two or three more to deal with. That is, if they didn't all attack at once. I have seen good and brave men simply run when a worm pack was spotted because they were too smart to stand."

She stoppered the waterskin and tied it back up. "Dark hounds are exceedingly difficult to kill. They are deadly with acidic secretions that poison the blood if they break the skin. The forbidden Balefire Weave is the surest way to kill them but if you can put running water between you, you are likely to get away. There are reports of several different types of dark hound. Some can reattach severed pieces of themselves. There may be no way short of balefire to kill those.

"We have it from our wolf-kin brothers that the dark hounds are a turned version of fallen wolves. I do not claim to understand that nor to question their truthfulness, but that is an odd thought."

Ubriel got to her feet and began to meander through the trees to search out a few more mushrooms. A brace of quail began to flap at her approach and she stopped walking, motioning to them for Prew to shoot.

OOC: Nah you will more than reach the 200 word limit. You are going to have to do a written report on the topic for the end of the conversation that will cover our whole talk. Its only fair. :p

Shoot some quail and chat me up about draghkar or something.

[Prew]

Snatching up his bow and drawing four arrows from his quiver, Prewtez rose and fired in one smooth motion. Staying in the form of Emptiness allowed him to reach the Void quickly. Three of his four arrows found their mark as the remaining birds sped out of range.

“Now would be a good time to have a dog,” he laughed and sauntered off to retrieve his kill. Returning a few moments later, he held up the three quail that had fallen victim to his arrows. “Looks like some Gaidin will eat well tonight!” he laughed, knowing those birds would not provide enough meat to make it to the Ji tables.

Following the Mistress of Training as she continued her search, Prewtez mulled over what she had told him. Light! Wolf-kin? Out on the border, surrounded by a brotherhood of soldiers, he had believed he knew the ways of the world. But now? What startling revelation would he be privy to next?

“These Dark hounds sound fearsome beasts. They can’t be killed by normal weapons? And these worms? It makes one wonder what sort of chance we might have against the Dark One! Thank the Light we have the One Power on our side. Do we dare enter the Blight without channelers?”

He paused, shaking his head, finally he began again.

“Let me speak of these Myrrdraal, the half-men. A Saldaean acquaintance, a man who has fought these Shadow spawn, told me of them. He said they could hide in the shadows, that the wind did not touch them, and that their swords were poisonous. Even so, they could be killed, though not easily. He said he had seen half-men who continued to fight even after losing an arm or a leg, even, once, a head! Was he exaggerating for the benefit of us gullible Andorans?”

[Bree]

Ubriel smiled thinking of how what she thought of as common knowledge about myrddraal and their progenitors at one time was just as shocking to her. Strange to think that she had become so accustomed to it all now. "Indeed. A half-man will not easily die unless its head is removed and even then, full death will not take it until the sun sets on it. If it is beheaded at night, the corpse will continue to try to kick until sunset of the following day. Even though they are born to trollocs, they are the head of their ranks. A myrddraal will be given command of a trolloc fist and trollocs fear them. The gaze of the eyeless is fear. That saying is rooted in the tendency by some unnatural power to strike terror in their opponents. They can be killed as easily as any well-trained swordsman. Their greatest advantage lies in the terror they instill. The way wind does not touch them or their cloaks and the way their gaze effects you is enough to be a significant advantage. Still, if you can defeat a swordmaster and your own fear, you can triumph over a myrddraal."

She sank to her knees under a patch of fragrant maple trees and began to gently brush back the fallen leaves. Giggling in triumph when she uncovered the patches of honey mushrooms, she continued. "Trollocs are the nasty beasts that you have to worry about when facing a myrddraal. You will not often find a reason to face an eyeless without a horde of trollocs to deal with as well. There are more than a dozen different bands that the trollocs can belong to. These are something like the different regiments of an army. They do not seem to be divided by the type of trolloc so we have little information on how the bands are formed. We do know that they wear badges of simple pictoral representations to differentiate the band affiliations. We also know that they tend to organize into fists of one hundred which can then be broken off into smaller groups if necessary."

Ubriel cut through the base stems of the cluster before her and shook them to clear most of the dirt before dropping them into her bag. Hefting the bag, she nodded and began to walk it back to Peach. "I think I have about enough mushrooms. What do you know about the twelve different primary bands of Trollocs?"

[Prew]

He followed Ubriel to the horses and began attaching the quail to the strap on the back of his saddle. Considering her question for a moment, what DID he know about them really? He thought of what he had read during his private study time before answering.

“Yes, Mistress, I have read there are twelve known bands, though scholars think there could be an unknown number of lesser bands. Each band is distinguished by its own sigil, or badge, as you say, though I’m not sure recognizing them would give one an advantage of any sort. It is said the different bands will not work together unless forced to do so by the half-men.”

Prewtez thought about what she had said regarding Myrrdraal. “It is hard to believe that half-men are the offspring of trollocs and yet trollocs fear them.”

As he checked Albion’s girth he continued, “Given the size of a trolloc I would think being mounted would be an advantage against them. However, I’ve read they are smart enough to employ some sort of grappling device to unseat horsemen.” He envisioned himself afoot fighting a trolloc. Hamstringing the creature might be an effective tactic. “I have also read that sometimes killing a myrrdraal will cause the trollocs it commands to die as well. Do you know if this is true, Mistress?"

[Bree]

Ubriel grinned broadly at the speculation of the trolloc fear of myrddraal. To his question, Ubriel said, "They always die. If the myrddraal has linked to them, they die as soon as the killing blow lands on the myrddraal. As for the trollocs fearing them, that Brown Brother that I mentioned before has an unhealthy fascination with the speculation that the myrddraal go through some kind of adolescent change that brings with it all of the powers that allow them to instill fear in trollocs. To the best of my knowledge, the situation he would need to prove the theory has been heavily opposed by the M'Hael." Her giggles shook her shoulders and brought a red flush to her cheeks.

As her mirth passed, she attached her fungal treasures to the saddle and petted Peach's nose. "The weapons of both myrddraal and trollocs are sometimes tainted in their making at the forges of Thakandar. The quenching of the myrddraals' blades is done in the flesh of an innocent which is bad enough. The poison that is sure death, though, is the product of the place and not something they do intentionally. It is innate."

"The really terrifying creatures in my opinion are the Draghkar. They are like man shaped leeches that can fly." A shudder of disgust shook her in much the same way her mirth had done. "The beast sings its victims into submission, causing them to fall into a trance-like state. They then envelope the poor dupe in their giant bat wings and kiss him!" She shared a look of incredulity before proceeding. "It is not a lover's kiss but leaves you more brainless than one. The victim of a Draghkar's Kiss is a mindless, perhaps soulless, shell." Ubriel pursed her lips and said, "Have you ever heard of the Golem?"

[Prew]

Her giggles brought a grin to his face. This Ubriel Gaidar, this Mistress of Training, so formidable, so intimidating, speaking with authority on some of the most unimaginable horrors in all of creation, had a feminine side! He found that he was seeing her more as a companion than a superior here outside the walls. Of course that would all change once back in the Yard, but for the time being he was enjoying her company.

So, there were differences of opinion in the Tower. Of course there would be. It was simply something he had not taken the time to consider, wrapped as he was in his own agenda, his drive to earn the fan cloak.

Her laughter was quickly replaced by another emotion, disgust perhaps, as she resumed the role of teacher. Yes, he had read of Draghkar and shared her revulsion. ‘Human bats’ was the description he felt most aptly applied. Yet, as repulsive as they might be, he had heard they were not difficult to kill if one could resist their siren’s call. And then she mentioned Golem. The mere name caused the hairs on the back of his neck to rise.

“I had a governess as a child, used to threaten me with golem if I didn’t behave,” he told her in all earnestness, “She said they could not be killed, that they could slip through the smallest of openings, and that they tore their victims into bloody pieces. Scared me so much that for months I would stuff cloth in any small opening I could find in my room before going to bed of a night,” he gave her a rueful smile as he related the memory, “Of course, as I grew older I assigned them to myth, just another story adults used to frighten children. Now I suppose you will tell me they are real.”

[Bree]

Ubriel nodded and shared a long-suffering look filled with the patience of one who has become accustomed to defending against what most others have dismissed. "They are an horrific creation of Aginor. By the most reliable accounts that we can find, there are only three remaining. So hard to kill that only one is reported to have been successfully killed of the four that were created. There is very little known about them. The best we can tell, it takes a weapon made into a ter'angreal to injure them, but it can happen. The ter'angreal that can dispel weaves will also sear the flesh of the Gholam."

She paused, thinking about that for a moment and something about the rumor of inverted weaves tickled her senses of strategy. Shaking her head she continued, "Very real indeed. They could probably have squeezed through the folds in the cloth that you stuffed the keyholes with. They drain their victims of blood and are completely merciless. But they can be killed and that is what we need to remember. Do you have any questions for me?"

[Prew]

Placing a foot in the stirrup, Prewtez swung up into the saddle in one smooth motion. Better trained than any horse he had previously owned, Albion stood motionless, awaiting his command. Considering the Mistress of Training’s question for a moment, Prewtez reviewed what she had said. She had spoken of the fauna and flora of the Blight, had described Trollocs, Myrddraal, Draghkar, and Dark Hounds, even Golem! What had begun as a pleasant ride in the countryside had turned into yet another lesson to prepare him for the Fan Cloak, and he wasn’t about to complain.

“I thank you for our conversation today, Gaidar,” he said as he turned Albion back towards the Tower. “I can think of three questions yet. First, you haven’t mentioned the grey men. Are they Shadowspawn or simply dark friends?” Prewtez awaited her response before continuing.

“My second question, then… what else should I do to further my knowledge of the various creatures that serve the Shadow? And, finally, I have gone from student to teacher with the sword, though I find I am learning even more in that role, truth be told. I have been working diligently towards mastering the state of emptiness a Warder needs, and I believe I shall soon be ready for my test for the Fan Cloak. But before that happens I need to learn even more about the Blight itself. You have mentioned an Asha’man, a 'Rory' I think you said. Might he give me the education I need on this topic? If so, how might I contact the man?”

[Bree]

Ubriel settled herself into the saddle and allowed Peach to have her head. Enjoying the pleasant rocking of the ride, Ubriel responded to Prew's question, "Grey Men are darkfriends who have gone the extra step. They walk so deeply in the Shadow that they are hidden from the eyes of those who walk in the Light. They are the assassins of the Shadow. Although what they undergo changes them in significant ways, they are not technically shadow spawn."

She smiled at Prew's self-report on his training. "You are progressing quite well. I am very pleased, as always, to see the motivation to learn in our trainees. Mastering the Ko'di, the one-ness or the void, takes concentration and often demands rigorously adhered to schedules of training. I recommend beginning the process when you first awake each morning. Try to assume the Ko'di and retain it through all of your morning calisthenics and then resume it again after breakfast, throughout all weapons and physical training. It will become a posture of learning and help you focus." Ubriel noted to herself how the Ko'di had allowed her to endure some of the more trying difficulties of pregnancy. She smiled as she thought of it and continued, "As for furthering your research on Shadow Spawn and the Blight, Rory will be delighted to have you. He is in the library, as all Browns are and if you leave a message for him requesting a meeting, I am certain he will happily oblige. Be warned though, he has thought a great deal more than is probably healthy about the Shadow and the Blight. And he will want to tell you all of his theories."

Ubriel grinned and urged Peach to get her home more quickly. She had a sudden and urgent need to visit a privy and little Bump was wiggling around in an attempt to make it worse.

OOC: I recommend you time jump and meet Rory in the Library now. What do you think?