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Chapter 8

Into the Fade

Or, a Brief History of Lycanthropy, Part I

9:29 Dragon, 27th day of Firstfall, Autumn

     After three and a half days of travel, Bran, Eornan, Daniella, Jayce, Landon and Dog returned to South Reach mid-day -- Eornan had gone off to bring drake blood to the Dalish Elves, but being less encumbered, was able to join Our Heroes for the triumphant entry. While the festival for the Arl's son was still building to a crescendo, the arrival of a (somewhat) live dragonling still drew much notice. Our Heroes made a few purchases, and then Bran and Eornan took the dragonling, named George, as a present for the Arl. Jayce is given most of the credit for the destruction of the nest of reptiles.

     Adina, the Arl's secretary, has Mercer the animal-handler lock the beast into a cage built to hold a Mabari hound.

     The remainder of the day was spent in selling our spoils, and making purchases. In the evening, Our Heroes hold a lavish dinner, with Jayce as the (very uncomfortable) guest of honor.

     After the dinner, as we were making our way back to the patch of grass where we pitched our camp, we came upon the tent of a fortune-teller -- to be specific, a witch, with white hair and amber eyes. Bran urged us to enter the tent, and we were soon all seated around the witches low table. Each of us was asked to choose from a set of stones, to reveal our fortune and future.  See The Predictions for the complete text.

     Most of the party received more or less cryptic parables (along with a rock); Landon, however, was given a rock and a ragged, worn old ragdoll "to keep the bad men away."

9:29 Dragon, 28th day of Firstfall, Autumn

     After waking up somewhat bleary-eyed, Our Heroes had a good (expensive) breakfast, bought some last-minute travel supplies, and set off towards the camp of the Dalish elves.

     Once we entered the Brecilian Forest, the howls and cries of wolves, were or otherwise, became all too common.

9:29 Dragon, 29th day of Firstfall, Autumn

     The howls of the werewolves became louder and closer, and in fact near mid-day we heard the sounds of a battle! Bran led us rushing pell-mell into combat -- half a dozen werewolves had already killed most of a unit of the Arl's soldiery. We slew four of the beasts, the other two ran off; only two of the Arl's men survived, by running off ...

     It being not long before sunset, we made our camp a short distance from the battlefield.

9:29 Dragon, 30th day of Firstfall, Autumn

     We buried the bodies of eighteen dead men, and sort-of burned or at least mangled the dead werewolves. With recent experiences with possessed dead in mind, we stripped the corpses of armor and weapons before burying them, setting the metal in a pile for later retrieval by the Arl's men.

     Proceeding onwards, we came to the camp of the Dalish elves:  nearly 40 of them, with their large tents and wagons. Leading them was a woman Kalihara the Keeper; her assistant/apprentice was Kiera. The Dalish herbalist, Brendesh, had concocted the required potion to allow Our Heroes to enter the Fade.  Landon had a short conversation with Brendesh about potions and alchemy; they discussed the Werewolf Cure.

     Kiera led Our Heroes to the farm where Daniella's brother Verell lay in a magical sleep. He had left a note on the door, and one inside. Our Heroes received a briefing from Kiera about what to expect in the Fade; she then created a magical circle of protection, and set out the potion. Soon all of us (except Dog) were drawn into the Fade.

     The Fade had some of the appearance of the Brecilian Forest, but with odd visual effects. The 'Dark Spot' or 'Dark City' is always visible off in the distance. Bran led us off along a path, and soon we encountered some people -- Chasind Wilders, it appeared. They seemed to be searching for someone or something -- perhaps Verell? -- but turned quickly to attack us. More and more of them drew into a circle around Our Heroes; Bran slew more and more of them, exulting in the slaughter. While Our Heroes were stronger and more skilled than the Wilders, their numbers grew inexorably.

     Bran would not draw back from the combat, but fortunately a group of ten or so warrior elves, wearing tattered garb of great antiquity, appeared. They formed a lane for Our Heroes to retreat "back to the camp"; thus, our pleas, and the appearance of a mighty dragon, persuaded Bran to pull out of the combat.

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