Sweat collects on Derek's shirt. His hiking boots are in good condition but his jeans are ragged. "Azor, Kinewyn allowed me to accompany you from Grenfell to to the monster lands to warn Brugon Slace. I understand this is a temporary arrangement but my clothes were not intended for this type of extended travel. I need some new clothes soon. Would you be willing to loan me one gold piece to get some new pants when we reach Brugon Slace's camp?" Azor turns and reaches back. He pulls Derek up over a large boulder and onto the ledge he stands on. Another 50 vertical feet rise above the two before the next shelf. They have been traveling toward toward the monster lands since the morning and Azor has assured Derek they will reach Brugon's camp before nightfall. The steep rocky slope they now traverse is dotted with squat leafy trees. Derek notices the ground, marked by claws or talons of climbing predators. Evidences of their kills still litter the ground in open spots.
Azor stops and looks down at the slope they have climbed. "Derek, I have found you to be a traveler who moves quickly, remains alert and does not waste rations or resources. We have engaged in combat on our journey three times. I have found you do not hesitate to act. While your melee skill are want, you courage is not. When Kinewyn returns from your world - Oorth? - I will recommend to him that you be added to our band. Kinewyn trusts my granite judgment, so it’s likely you will be added to our number, if that is your wish?"
Derek is silent a moment. "Azor, I did some unforgivable things back on earth. I am a wanted criminal there. Your offer is too generous. I don't deserve you faith in me." Azor's pug fangs, curl into a smile, "Derek, your past is a world away. Thrycion is your future. The leader of my band is a thief, Derek, but an elf of honor as well. I can think of no better way to lead a life of adventure and discovery on Thrycion than for you to join with us." Derek peers down the slope behind them. "I-" He takes another moment before speaking again. "I will be honored to adventure with you and Kinewyn and Bryong and Coveark. Thank you for this opportunity." Azor motions for them to continue upward. "What about my pants th-"
Derek stumbles back and loses his footing as the sky above fills with wood and sail and motion. "Pull in that yardarm, Kodane." A gruff, commanding voice wends down comes from the 75-foot skyship above. Derek cranes his neck to see the skyship sail in the opposite direction they are traveling. Derek stares up at the rich brown oak of the keel. Suddenly Derek is looking into Thrycion's second sun. Azor raises his sword hand before his eyes and recovers from the surprise and quickly extends a hand to help Derek up. The two run full tilt to catch up to the ship as it weaves to avoid high treetops.
"Ho, above. Ho, above," Azor booms a call upward. Derek sprints ahead, ascends a sharp hill to get himself closer to the ship. His chest burns as he hauls himself up the hill. He jumps for joy when he sees heads and shoulders appear a long the starboard. The flap and ruffle of sail is heard as the crew slows the ship. Derek places hands on knees and catches his breath as the ship stops and thick ropes are dropped. Derek grins at Azor as they make their way to the ropes. Azor shakes his head, "Go on up and explain that they will need to add three more ropes to this one before I can climb up." Derek nods and jumps onto the rope and begins hauling himself up. "Use your legs", the Golon shouts. At the top of the rope, half-orcs grab Derek's upper arms and lift him over the newly cut and sanded railing.
Derek forces himself to thank his helpers before taking in the deck of the sky ship. "Thank you, I am Derek of earth. My band mate and I bear a message for Brugon Slace." Derek breathes out and ignores the burn in his arms from ascending the rope. Orcs now leap down from the raised decks at fore and aft of the ship and approach. They part as a lone figure walks forward. "What message do you carry for me, boy?" Derek, despite having run a half-orc character for the last eighteen months of Stephen's campaign is surprised at Brugon's size. His thick frame is garbed in expertly tailored brown leather armor. Black plated gauntlets cover pitcher sized fists. Derek notices finely crafted items adorning the towering leader. Each piece surely brought to him by his loyal scouts, raiders and fighters is unmatched. Each magical item is unique, taken from a different felled enemy. "You know my friend, Azor the Golon. May I wait to continue until he is with us?" Brugon shoves a pair of orcs out of his way and shouts down as he braces himself against the railing, "Get your heavy arse up here, you rock slag."
Without instruction orcs add a half-dozen more thick ropes to the one Derek climbed. While the extra ropes are needed to safely haul Azor up, Derek notices that the skyship is not tilted by the Golon's weight. Derek thanks Brugon and aids the orcs in hauling his friend up and then over the railing. More orcs have come up from lower decks and now the group surrounding Azor and Derek presses tighter. Azor raises his arms to embrace Brugon. Brugon's stern face is transformed into a bright gnarl fanged grin. "My friend, leader of Grenfell, master of monsters, listen to the words of this young man. He bears important news.“ Derek has been watching the orcs that surround him. The way they jostle and clamor around, invading each others space thoughtlessly.
Derek starts his address to the group by roughly smashing the orc directly behind him in the mouth and shoving the two to his sides away. This produces a ripple of chuckles from the other orcs and a pocket of space opens for Derek. "King Trajon is sending troops to take lumber from the Hearan forest in Grenfell. King Trajon's scouts are aware of the lumbers ability to retain enchantment. Trajon attempted to hire Kinewyn’s band to ensure a steady flow of lumber from your forest by whatever means necessary. Kinewyn refused. This situation is compounded by the arrival of my band on Thrycion. I, Derek, my band leader Stephen and my band mates Max and Cynthia traveled from Earth, our home world, to Thrycion through a portal located in Mount Gibbes. Our worlds have only had a handful of travelers pass between them but I believe soon that many people and creatures will pass back and forth between Earth and Thrycion through the portal. Most likely there will be war. Azor and I came to inform the clans of Grenfell of all these occurrences."
Brugon steps closer to Derek, looks down at him. He stares at Derek for a long while before turning and looking up at the poop deck. There a slim human woman stands dressed in a colorful embroidered small coat and leather breaches. Her shoulder length gold hair and pale skin are a striking contrast to the green and brown skin of the orcs on the ship. Derek notices that no orc, despite the press of creatures on the top deck is within two arms lengths of the woman. A single sheet of parchment floats in front of her and shimmering gossamer strands of glowing script are being written to the sheet by an unseen hand. The woman nods to Brugon, indicating that she is indeed capturing the important details.
Brugon’s hands rest on pommels of twin short swords. "This young human speaks truth, Azor?" "Truth and warning, monster king." Azor scruffs the hair of a wee orc that is pressed toward him by the crowd. "All quite interesting, some already known to me. But tell me, Derek of Earth, about this near world of yours and how a young human without spellbook or sword came to be a planewalker." Azor steps toward Derek and places his stone hand on his shoulder. "Derek will tell you of his odd world but not a moment before he has enjoyed two bowls of Graggoth's mutton stew or before you send half this rabble below deck or before you explain to me how your people, who struggle to erect a decent meeting tent, were able to build a flying ship." Brugon laughs as he watches Graggoth clamor off to retrieve the afore mentioned stew. "Oh, my monstrous horde had nothing more to do with the construction of this ship than the acquisition of a dragon egg to trade to the wood elves." Brugon's arms extend toward bow and stern of the ship, indicating the whole of the vessel. "High Ground was built in the span of one single crest moon by Var-keer RaCholt's best craftsmen. That conniving elf prince required me to have his dragon egg delivered in a chest of gold, silver and platinum, wrapped in a family crest tapestry from the Meerhold dwarf clan. The egg's wrapping and box alone cost me 60,000 gold and 15 good orcs lost in combat."
Azor steps to the railing and runs his thick fingers over the smooth beam, "I see it now. The elves' c
raftsmanship. Not a nail was used in all of the construction." The orc rabble begins to disperse at a simple shooing motion from Brugon. The half-orc leader sits unceremoniously on the deck. Derek sits down as well and forces himself not to grimace when his hand presses on fat gob of orc spit. "You are correct Azor. Even at the high cost I paid I am amazed at what Var-keer RaCholt's craftsmen were able to accomplish in such a short time. I am on my way now to offer this ship to King Trajon in exchange for fifteen miles across the length Taltherin's border to be seeded to my clans. Var-keer RaCholt promises me I will have a new ship ready before this double new moon. If King Trajon refuses my offer I will trade with the witch to the west." Derek smears the viscous snot across the deck behind him. "When King Trajon sees this ship Brugon I assure you he will send half or more of his army not just to steal some of the Hearan lumber but to secure the Hearan forest itself. There will be war."
Brugon looks to Azor who nods to confirm Derek’s assessment. Graggoth bounds forward with a bowl slopping green stew over the sides. Derek takes it and looks to Azor, imploring a way to graciously decline eating it. Azor sticks out a sapphire laced tongue and licks his lips while his hand circles in front of his stomach. Derek spoons some down, is surprised by a rich taste and spoons down some more. Brugon sits in silence for a full five minutes, considering. Derek finishes the bowl of stew and throws it at Graggoth to demand more. While Brugon's orcs laugh, he does not. "So with war about to break out along our border, you bring news that trade and diplomacy and perhaps conflict will commence between Thrycion and Earth." Derek nods. The lithe, attractive female human comes to join them. Floating parchment follows her and settles between Derek and her. "Tell me of Earth," Brugon directs. Derek begins and glowing script scrawls across the parchment, capturing his words.
Chapter 16