EQ8 - 2005 - Creature Feature

Missy watched as the rest of them came up the canyon. What a creature-feature she thought.

First up the hill was Splaff, her great sword slung across her scaly back. Next came Misti, the Kerran and her warder. Missy mentally corrected herself, no, she shouldn't call her that, she wasn't a Kerran, she was a Vah Shir, better to get it right. If the girls back at the Arcane Academy in Erudin could see her now.

She wondered what they would say if they new she travelled not only with a member of a race that was at one time considered little better than vermin back on Odus, but an Iksar as well!

More loss to them, she acknowledged silently, the cat-woman was an excellent travelling companion and the iksar was quick witted and had an intelligent sense of humour that was always sadly lacking in the lecturers Missy remembered from the academy.

Aye, miles from anywhere, on some mad cap adventure.

Infact, it couldn't even be measured in miles, where they were. They had arrived in this bleak desert landscape via magical means. The only way back to Erudin and the rest of Norrath was through a portal made by one of those mad priests.

Here came Roztov, the sullen druid, tromping up the hill with his sword and shield slung over his back.

Missy reflected on how the druid came to be here. For several years he had shunned the adventuring life, living on a farm somewhere in Butcherblock with one of Missy's old classmates, Soora. Missy always giggled when she remembered the nickname that Soora had been given there. She was so stiff and prim and proper, the name always tormented her. That was also where Missy got her name, it had been so long since she had been addressed as anything other than 'Missy' that she often wondered how much longer it would take her to forget the name her parents had given her. Well, she wasn't in contact with Soora any longer. She still saw Azzamanya, and some of the others, but Soora had always been a lot of effort.

Well, she suspected Soora would not want to see her anyway. Here she was, in the company of Roztov. They had obviously argued and their love affair had ended, because here he was now, a rare smile on his face as he reached the summit of the hill and looked back down into the drab brown valley.

'She's in there somewhere.'

'Huh?', replied Missy to his sudden comment.

'Dewflower.' he nodded, 'I lost her coming up, but she's playing tricks. I think she followed me up.'

Missy looked around and then back down the trail. All she could see was Misti and Splaff standing nearby.

'I'm right beside you!', hissed a voice inexplicable behind them making both the druid and the wizard jump.

'How many more times?!', gasped Roztov as he regained his composure, 'Don't do that!'

Dewflower, an expert in hiding and creeping about, laughed and patted him on the back. Right now she had dark skin, ideal for hiding in the craggy shadows here. She was a dark elf. No wait a minute, she’s a wood elf, thought Missy, definitely a wood elf, but if not, then a half elf for certain. Definitely an elf of some description anyway! Almost certainly.

It was so confusing, the wily rogue seemed to change her skin and appearance all the time, as if on a whim mostly, by some mystic means that Missy had yet to decipher.

Later that day, they found a suitable place to camp for the night, in a cleft in the rock under an ancient black iron bridge. One of many bridges that they had found in this area of complex canyons and gulleys. Roztov had informed them that the area was free of murkglider tracks and that it was probably safe. They were so sheltered from the rain that they lit a fire and crowded round it to keep out the evening chill and to eat their food. It was all fare that they had brought all the way from Norrath with them – the good honest vegetables and conney meat was long gone and they were down to the iron rations. They local stuff was very strange and unpalatable to their tongues. Strange frogs and rats, that seemed to possess the powers of a chameleon, purple mushrooms and all manner of twisted bitter roots was about the only forage around here.

The talk drifted onto discuss one of the favourite topics of their evening chats, namely, the fate of their guild, the Heroes of Kaladim, and their new leader, the halfing Xomano. Things were very different now that the dwarves were no longer in charge. They still owned the tower in Butcherblock, but it was rarely used, and the guild coffers paid good Mrs Propamal to look after it and keep the bed rooms aired. Xomano had even let some of the rooms be used as an unofficial orphanage for some of the local children. What with all the trouble in Mistmoore, there seemed to be more parentless children around than usual. The conversation then moved onto fallen comrades, as it so often did.

‘Gosh yes.’, mused Missy, ‘So many gone. So many dead.’

‘Rosssstov’, said Misti, her feline tongue rolling out the esses’, ‘Whatever happened to Suran’s warder after he died?’

Roztov nodded and threw another stick onto the fire. There had never been any love lost between Misti and Suran, sometimes cats were like that, but her concern for Suran’s companion was touching.

‘Funny you should say that’, replied the human, ‘I was meaning to mention it. It was amazing that his warder survived, considering what happened. Well, I took her in for a while, but I’m not very good with tigers I think. I get on much better with ravens and rats. Still, she was friendly enough, and now she is happy to live in Surefall Glade. As an Elder I have rooms assigned to me in one of the lodges and she just sleeps there. Tore up one of the bedspreads I brought back from Natimbi as well, the besom.

Still, she keeps herself well exercised by chasing the gnolls in Blackburrow.’

Splaff snorted, ‘A cat chasing dogss? There isss a joke in there sssomewhere. . .’, another that had long esses, but these were more of a hiss.

‘Yes!’, laughed Roztov, ‘I know the Vah Shir consider it bad karma to name their warders, but I thought she deserved one after what she had been through. I called her Lucky! Ha! Corin and the other old druids at the guild don’t know what to make of her! But as long as she leaves the bears alone they don’t mind too much.’

They sat in silence for a moment as they all digested this news.

‘Hey so, I never asked’, said Dewflower who was close enough to pat the big tiger that sat between her and Misti, ‘Doesn’t your warder have a name?’

‘Maybe’, replied the vah shir, ‘Try a name and see what she does.’

Dewflower turned to the massive tiger, ‘Hey fur face!’

The others laughed as the rogue playfully teased the placid creature,

‘No that didn’t do it – hey ginger! – hey fluffy! – hey hairy britches! Hey fluffy-boo-boo-kitty-fluff!’

With that, the creature leaned over and deftly licked the elf right in the face!

‘Bleh!’, she groaned, wiping the drool off, ‘That must be her name then! Ye gods, her tongue is like sandpaper!’

Once they settled down again, they drifted back to their original discussion,

‘So what happened to Beolvaar?’, asked Missy.

‘Oh, I saw him not so long ago.’, replied Roztov, ‘He went back to Halas. Last thing I heard he had opened a fish shop.’

‘Huh’, nodded Misti, ‘Well, I too, saw an old face recently. I met Brond. He and Kindariel have a house just outside of Kaladim. It was a compromise they told me. A wood elf would never live underground!’

As they laughed, Missy noticed that Roztov had stood up, as if sniffing the air,

‘Roz?’, she asked.

‘Pack up’, he said, ‘And put out the fire, we’ve got trouble.’

Once they were ready to leave, Roztov lead them to a rocky outcrop beside the bridge and pointed down the valley.

‘Murkgliders.’

‘I see them.’, nodded Misti, who had the sharpest eyes, ‘Far too many to fight. They are moving down the valley. Grazing.’

They had been here for months, hunting the big purple gas bags among other things. They more like giant jelly fish than any creature you might reasonably expect to see moving around on land.

‘We better move on then.’

‘Hmm,’ put in the rogue, ‘It’s very nearly total night now. I better scout ahead.’

An hour later they were waiting in the lee of an overhang for Dewflower. They had moved on down the valley but had reached a convenient place to stop.

Misti and her warder sat on a rock while Splaff simply stood in the dark, her sword held in her claws. Roztov crouched by the trail and Missy, lacking any decent place to make herself comfortable had put down her spell book and sat on it. It made a change from burying her nose in it, she thought wryly to herself.

The druid looked up and said, ‘I think. . . .’

But he never finished the sentence, as suddenly the night sky was illuminated by magic, as if a flare had gone off and dragorn warriors charged at them from all directions.

Misti’s warder leapt up and tore the throat of the first tall dragon man that came near, giving them enough time to gather together into a defensive circle.

One took a swipe at Missy, who ducked and yelped. Splaff stepped in front of her to take the next blow on her sword. Missy had time to see Roztov knocked flying as a dragorn landed a blow on him before she too was knocked down by an unseen attacker. For a second all she could see was stars, but then again she was saved by the iksar warrior as she fought of a whole circle of foes, a whirlwind of claws and steel. The druid was up again, and using his magic to try and aid the fight. Missy realised she better do some good and managed to wipe the smile off a nearby warriors face with a massive burst of flame aimed from her finger tips.

But they were going to lose, she could see that, there were too many of them.

‘Where is that rogue?’, hissed Roztov in exasperation.

Fighting and casting spells they lost ground up the slope. Sometimes Splaff or the tiger would kill a dragorn, only for another vicious, snarling yellow skinned dragon man to take his place.

Suddenly there was a cry from behind them,

‘Leg it!’, and in a blue streak, Dewflower ran right through them, and then right through the stunned dragorns.

Missy hazarded a glance over her shoulder. More dragorns!

No wait, she realised, and she was never so glad to be wrong, loyalists!

‘Roztov, are we friends with the loyalists or not, I can never remember?’

‘What are you asking me for? Just run!’, and with that he grabbed her arm and ran off with the others, as the two opposing dragorn factions suddenly met each other, one at a full charge. There was a massive clash of arms as near a hundred dragons rushed to attack each other, most at a full run.

The adventurers fled, but any hope of escaping the fray was soon cut short by yet another company of dragorn coming up the valley. They grouped into a circle to defend themselves, but the dragron were just too large and numerous, as they pressed right in.

Missy again started aiming spells and she saw that Roztov, by her side, was doing the same. The fighters held there ground for a moment, but then suddenly Splaff went down in hale of blows, and then Dewflower was caught up by a huge snarling dragorn, like a man wrestling with a vicious hissing blue cat. The rogue aimed a throwing knife directly at the dragorns eye and scored a direct hit. It hurled her to the rocky ground with a cry of pain. The rogue landed in a crumpled heap.

Misti and her warder were giving ground and as Missy ducked a dragorn spear, she looked at Roztov and said,

‘Do something!’

‘Right,’, cried the druid and raised his arms, ‘EVAC INC!’

Missy woke up to the sounds of distant monkey calls, and the croaking of frogs. Where on Norrath was she? Then it slowly dawned on her. She was indeed back on Norrath. The emerald jungle of Kunark to be precise. Why in Solosek Ro’s name did he always take them here?

‘Don’t worry Missy,’, said a soothing voice. It was Misti, ‘You received a blow to the head just before the evacuation spell landed. But Roztov has seen to your wounds. You will be fine.’

Missy leant up onto her shoulders. She was lying on blankets on a cleared bit of the jungle floor. The forest canopy was so dense and high up that there was hardly any light. Someone had lit a fire though.

‘Where are the others?’

‘Um, Splaff is right here. Roztov is in the jungle foraging some food and well. . Dewflower hasn’t turned up yet.’

‘We are a little worried.’, hissed the voice of Splaff who was sat behind her.

Missy shook her head groggily and said, ‘Don’t be. Don’t ask me to explain it, but whenever we use magic to come here, Dewflower always lags behind by a few hours.’

‘But. . .,’ stuttered the iksar, ‘Where is she then?’

‘I don’t know , in the ether somewhere maybe. Ask her when she gets here.’

Just then Roztov returned to the camp, his arms loaded down with fruit.

‘At last,’ he beamed, ‘No more three month old rations, or strange half-poisonous mushrooms and rat-burgers!’

The others gathered round him to grab at grapes and berries.

‘Hey!’, he cried, ‘There’s plenty for all!’

Just then, there was a loud pop above them and the druid had just enough time to look up as Dewflower suddenly appeared and dropped right in his lap!

They landed in a crumpled splat, berries and grapes scattering and bursting everywhere.

‘Phew! At last’, exclaimed the rogue, as she stood up and surveyed her surroundings.

‘Roztov! Emerald Jungle! Why always here? You know I have a thing about this place!’, and she aimed a kick at his behind.

‘Ow!’, he cried as he stood up to defend himself, ‘Be thankful you are still alive!’

As the fight continued, Missy spied that there was one unsquashed Emerald Orange left. Quickly she grabbed it, and pealing it, began to cram it into her mouth. As always the fruit was delicious.

‘I’m having all of this!’, she declared from behind a juicy grin.

She settled down to watch the pushing match that was developing between the druid and the rogue. Misti’s warder dolefully put its head in her lap. Aye, she thought again, if the girls back at the Academy could only see me now!