"Freeze dried Beef Stroganoff AGAIN?" groaned Krinn disgustedly.
Delrin lowered his arms and shrugged apologetically. "Sorry. I can create food and water, but I never know what I'm going to get."
Glorm dropped another armload of wood on the fire. "Food be food" he said, silencing Krinn's retort, then turned to El Sid. "We be in Micaforo tomorrow?" They had been passing a few scattered fields under cultivation during the afternoon, and had noticed the smoke of a farmhouse chimney a few times, as well as other signs of human habitation. They had decided to avoid chance encounters with the locals, despite the siren's call of a full meal and real beds.
El Sid nodded. "On the morn, if we rise early enough. Delrin's spells have helped us make better time than I had hoped." This was the fourth evening since they departed the haunted Urakai ruins, counting the one they had spent trying to recover their horses and goods. Three days of travel on slim rations had left them all bone tired, particularly those that had been wounded in the dungeon. "Some of us will have a chance to rest up a bit" he said, "but Dom and Krinn are off almost immediately."
"On a Kethem Merchant, please ghod!" Krinn said with feeling. She still remembered the Pranan Merchant they had taken to Negrata a few weeks before. During the previous night, they had discussed her and Dom returning to Kethem to recover the moonstone while the rest of the remaining group recovered from their wounds and continued the search for Fuji's brothers. There had been more lively conversation on what to do with the ruins of the town; they were the only ones that knew the ancient curse had been lifted, and that the town was once again inhabitable. No real conclusion had been reached.
They bedded down for the night, rotating watches broken only by a wolf pack that snuffed and circled the group for a while. They left peacefully at Delrin's urging. He didn't bother to wake the others.
The next morning they set out a little later than El Sid intended, but made good time. Within an hour they were on a dirt road leading through carefully interlaced fields of tabbac, corn, barley, and other produce. Half an hour after that the road turned into the cobblestone streets of Micaforo, and the west gate was a rising monolith above the roofs of the small houses and stores outside the city walls.
It did not take much longer to reach the Gutted Halaxi, where Jasper greeted them in a subdued fashion when he realized Tanaka, Aron and Tristan were no longer with them. "Told ye to stay away from that cursed place, did I not?"
Krinn nodded, "You were right. A pit of death, that's what the place is. Only a fool would go there if they knew how we fared." Krinn launched into a graphic description of Tanaka cutting off his own arm in a fit of madness, running into the night with blood pouring from the stump; Aron and Tristan killing each other in a frenzy of dagger blows, intent only on injuring the other and not at all on the damage they took in the process, best of friends turned into the worst of enemies for no reason. It was the cover story they had agreed on to keep others from going to the town.
"Well, we have rooms for ye" said Jasper, shaking his head sadly, "Take time to wash the grime of death off ye, and I'll be damned if I don't raise a tankard or two fer ye fallen comrades with ye tonight."
An hour later, Jasper was true to his word, leaving one of the stable boys to mind the inn's greeting room and telling the bartender to keep the generous mugs he handed around full for the evening. Many of the other tables were full of other tavern goers, some clearly surprised at Jasper's generosity and paying more attention that the group liked to the proceedings. It was too late for regrets, however, and Glorm would have raised eyebrows anyway, so they raised tankards with Jasper as he cried out "for the souls of the brave, and the memories of the friends!" and drank deeply.
Krinn was feeling the affects of the potent brew more quickly than the rest, her slight frame lacking the tolerance for alcohol the others had in abundance, but it felt like the right thing to do. There hadn't been time to grieve properly on the march back, and now she felt memories overwhelming her. Aron, large and angry but oddly gentle; Tanaka, who wrapped himself in his Kandayan beliefs like a cloak but was willing to shed them for her; Tristan, boyish charm and graceful movement that would have come across as intolerably smug if his obvious sincerity and concern for the group had not shown through. It was odd that she felt the loss of three people that she had spent a little over a month with like that of three close friends, but the bonds of the experiences they had shared during that time were stronger than ones she had build over years with others.
Krinn realized she was crying.
Time passed, as did tears, and after several rounds after she should have stopped, she dropped her tankard and grabbed the table to keep from falling over. She blinked, and tried to focus, brought out of her reverie, but by what she did not know. It was more that the spinning of the room, which was the ale, but less than a sound or sight that would indicate something significant. It was a feeling.
She turned slowly, less out a sense of impending doom than to prevent herself from falling over, and looked behind her. There was a man at a corner table who was looking at them... no, she corrected herself, looking at her.
He stood and moved toward them. A younger man, his face was distinctly Pranan, a slight prominence to the brow and wide face hinting at the slight tint of Urakai or Urakou blood that was the mark of the area. He wore the short cropped beard and thin mustache that was very much the style around town. Dressed in better than average clothes, not obviously armed, he seemed to pose no threat, but Krinn did not feel comfortable with that assessment. Then she noticed the eyes, eyes hard with experience beyond that of the man's apparent years.
As he approached the group fell silent, and Krinn new hands were not far from weapons. They were a cautious group. He stopped within arms reach of her, and reached out to touch her face, gently enough that it was clearly not meant to harm. Nonetheless, Delrin's hand closed on the stranger's before it had covered half the distance to complete it's motion. El Sid's sword made a grating sound as it cleared the sheath, a clear indication that the man was inebriated since it normally slid out without the tiniest whisper of sound (a fact she had often wondered about, since it took significant amounts of practice).
The stranger did not make any further advances however, and took a step backwards, Delrin letting his hand go as he did so. Looking directly at her, he spoke. "You have been touched... but perhaps not enough." With these cryptic words, he turned suddenly and left the room without looking back.
"Damn crylarski" said Jasper, breaking the quiet.
"Crylarski... a crystal gatherer?" asked Delrin, remember his prior attempts to gather information on the people that extracted small samples of the Crystal Forest to be sold as curios.
"Yes, ye have it correct" answered Jasper grimly. "Greffen, he calls himself. He be not as bad as the cursed place you have left behind, but take me advice this time, those crystal cursed are a strange lot, and ye be better off leaving them alone." With that, he urged the rest of the group to turn back to the serious business of drink, which they did except for Krinn, who passed out shortly thereafter.