The Plucky Paws Guild Issue #7
Emlynn Jones
In the end, it took three days before the spell was successful and the band was ready to leave. To Theo’s chagrin, he failed to scry the alchemist's location on his first attempt.
“I truly do not understand it!” he told the other raccoons as they dined on poached eggs and fresh bread the morning after his failure. “It was like something was blocking my attempts. I thought I felt a dark power interfering with my spell.”
“Perhaps you did,” Melodus commented while spreading a generous portion of butter on the steaming slice of bread in his paws. “The dark necromancer is not without spies. Perhaps he has learned of our quest and seeks to impede us.”
“If that is true,” Reginald noted. “It does not bode well for our mission. It will be much harder if he seeks to thwart us.”
“I will pray for your success tonight, young Goldspinner,” Brother Fulce promised. “I know our mission is blessed by the Shepherdess. I know she can help clear the way.”
“Well, I guess it couldn’t hurt,” the wizard said skeptically.
“Then it’s decided!” Melodus joined in, raising his goblet high as if in a toast. “Tomorrow we are away!”
--
The next morning, a tired-looking mage descended the stairs to the common room of the Dancing Ferret.
“Well?” Sylvan asked impatiently. “Did it work?”
“Yes..” Theo answered with some hesitancy.
“What troubles you, friend?” Brother Fulce asked with concern. “Were my prayers helpful?”
“I believe so,” Theo replied. “I mean, the forces pushing back on me felt weaker last night. As if they wanted to block my scrying, but they could not focus on my spell as they had the night before. It’s hard to explain.”
“No explanation is needed,” the large warrior raccoon stood from the table, adjusting the pack on his back. “But you know where we must head, correct?”
“Well..yes, I think,” Theo began. “I have the general location, and as we get closer, my spells will be strengthened. I will know more as we progress.”
“Good enough!” Reginald cried. “Where shall we go?”
“Well, to the Taloncrag Mountain, at least we must head in that direction.”
“You mean to say the Alchemist is in the mountain of Taloncrag?” Melodus asked in surprise. “That seems quite convenient.”
“Well, that is to say, yes. Harold Dragonscale is near the mountain…I don’t know if he is on it…but my scrying has revealed he is near the mountain.”
“Clearly it is a sign!” the priest beamed.
“Yes,” Reginald agreed, “But does it bode well or ill for us?”
“How far away is this Taloncrag?” Sylvan asked, looping her pouch over her shoulder in preparation for the departure.
“Two weeks at least,” Theo answered.
“If we take no breaks and make good time every day!” Reginald scoffed. “I’d say three weeks is a much safer estimate.”
“Three weeks!?!” the thief exclaimed in surprise.
“What is the farthest you have traveled from Crooked Hollow, Sylvan?” the priest gently enquired.
“I’ve only left once, when I traveled to the sacred glade to steal…that is, borrow the pick from the bard.”
“Why, that is naught but a two-day journey!” Melodus exclaimed. “You are about to see the world, my fine friend!”
“So what next?” Sylvan asked, trying to act more sure than she felt.
“Next?” Melodus answered with a smile, pulling round the lute slung on his back. “We walk, my clever little rogue! But you are in luck, for I have just the songs for walking!”
The band set out walking up the cobblestone street from the Dancing Ferret. As they left the homely inn behind them, his voice rang loud and clear, his paws strumming a happy, inspiring tune on his lute. An impromptu crowd gathered to hear the famed minstrel's song, and many followed them up the road, joining in the well-known tune.
“In burrow deep ‘neath bramble thorn,
Where moss did cradle dreams unborn,
A bunny fair with eyes so wide
Felt stirrings that she could not hide.
She heard the whisper of the trees,
The calling carried on the breeze,
And though her kin would bid her stay,
She rose before the break of day.
Oh, Bramble bold, with heart so free,
Thou wandered far from warren lea.
Through fern and fog, o’er hill and glen,
To seek thy fate beyond thy den.”
Following a short distance behind with the young mage, Reginald nudged the smaller raccoon and leaned in to be heard over the forest folk happily singing with the bard. “Are we on a quest or in a parade, eh?” He playfully winked at Theo.
Theo grinned back with undisguised enthusiasm, “Why not both?”
Reginald laughed loudly with shared joy. “Why not both indeed!”
--
The crowds began to thin as they left the town. Within a mile, all the townsfolk had melted away, returning to their many labors. But their day had been made easier, listening to the bard sing of Bramble and the small bunny's grand adventures in the ancient forest. Sylvan had to admit the song lifted her fears and lightened her burdens. If a small rabbit could leave her den and venture into the great forest, surely she could do so as well.
Despite the absence of crowds, Melodus did not stop his performance. He regaled his friends with song after song. “The Snare of Silver Thread”, “The Weird of Finneas the Ferret”, and many other beloved tunes. The bard seemed never to tire, and all his companions agreed that his ballads eased the path before them and made each step lighter.
By nightfall, they were far from the Crooked Hollow in a long, lonesome stretch of the great forest. The was old forest, the trees tall and strong, their branches blotting out the sky, greedy to keep the sun to themselves. The Mountains of Taloncrag lay still aways to the north, but Crooked Hollows was already on the edge of the Duke's Fiefdom, and it did not take far to venture into wilder lands. Though the path was still clear and well-maintained, the night felt heavy with forboding.
“We shall camp here!” Melodus declared
“We have made better time than I expected,” Reginald commented. “I do believe there is magic in your songs, Melodus.”
“ Of course there is!” Melodus winked at the mighty warrior. “Reginald, please collect some wood for our fire. Theo, I believe you should be able to conjure a fire with ease. Brother Fulce and I will prepare the meal. Sylvan, would you be so kind as to secure our camp, set some traps to alert us to any who approach.”
The band set to their tasks and it was not long before they were enjoying a simple meal by a small, but warming fire.
“The first day of our quest is complete,” Melodus said as he lovingly polished the neck of his lute. He had removed the strings earlier and now, with sure fingers, restrung the instrument.
“Well I am grateful for the thief’s work to secure our camp,” Reginald stood from the campfire, brushing off the crumbs of the evening meal from his cloak. “But I still think we would be wise to keep a watch. I will take the first watch.”
“I will take the second watch,” the priest offered, receiving a nod of thanks from the large raccoon.
“I’ll take the last watch then,” Sylvan volunteered.
“Excellent!” Melodus put his lute aside, and prepared his blanket. “Then Theo and I shall sleep like babes, safe in the knowledge that you watch over us! Our thanks, indeed!”
Sylvan rolled her eyes and Reginald smiled at the minstrel. He knew Melodus would never say he admit to how exhausted he must be after performing all day long. Reginald could not deny that songs had helped with the journey, and he hoped the bard rested well so he could perform again on the morrow. He looked over at the young magic user, fumbling with his bed roll. That one had not slept much the night before and would surely be exhausted as well. It was a wonder he had been able to go so far today.
For himself, Theo was very glad to have a full night rest. His feet were sore from the long day of walking. He had not noticed the strain while the minstrel had sung, the travel had felt like a joy! Now that the songs were over, reality had settled in and the studious mage was sure he had never been so tired in all of his life. He had to admit that the scholarly life he had led till now had not prepared him well for the hardships of the open road. Still he would grow and adapt, he was sure of it. If Sylvan, who had never strayed far from her birthplace could do it, so could he! If Reginald with his heavy armor and shield could bare the burden, then he could bare it too!
Still he it was with great relish he lay his head down and soon a heavy, comforting sleep overcame him and he was lost to dreams.
Too soon his dreams were shattered by a foul scream and Reginald’s cry, “To arms, my friends! We are under attack!!!”