I woke to the sound of thousands of raindrops hitting the canopy up above and the cold kiss of the few drops that managed to find their way down to me. It was a refreshing start to the day and with some patience I managed to gather a mouthful or two and scrub the worst of the blood off… I felt almost human again!
It was hard to tell what time it was, but some light had found its way and I was confident that with Stalkers guidance we would find the camp in record time.
Two hours later, confidence was still high, but the never ending sound of rain on the leaves and the irritating small wet drips that got through and hit me, were starting to get to me. My mood was starting to turn, not quite bad or angry, but decidedly irritated.
It didn’t help that the rain added to the already oppressive nature of the Ghostwoods, and even though I was relatively sure that the forests were safe to travel through, I constantly imagined branches moving or bushes rustling.
Stalker was annoyingly cheerful and insisted on constant detours to explore interesting smells… I think it was his idea of a fun prank… I was less than amused, but tried to be reasonable, after all he was hardly at fault for the rain. He had just disappeared to hunt for an interesting dry and spicy smell. I followed because without him I would probably be lost.
I came upon him a minute later. He was dancing around a spot where a fallen tree had created some room in the canopy. There seemed to be some kind of light around the area, but I couldn’t see anything different… at first.
When I got closer, I could see the clouds up above, the rain and that it was daytime, but there was a small distortion and when I started circling the spot. The view changed from dark, wet and oppressive forest, to dry desert, with a cactus like plant and very bright sunlight from clear skies. I moved a few steps to the side… the forest was back.
I started moving around the spot and for around 70% of line of sight it was the forest, dark, wet and spooky, just like I knew and hated it. But from the rest it was a view into a warm, dry and desolate desert…
Okay, I had clearly stumbled upon something, or to be fair Stalker had led me here. But I had no idea what. It reminded me of those ocean sounds and scents, I had experienced back at the cave, although that had disappeared rather quickly.
My best guess would be that it was somehow related to the dead gods' curses. Luckily I now had the identify skill, and it identified the phenomenon as:
Corrupted environmental shard
a blue flash
You have unearthed a systemic truth (lesser)!
You have gained experience!
It seemed a bit redundant, but I had to try, so I also tried my sense corruption skill and sure enough it registered as corruption.
Experimenting a bit more with the shard I tried waving a branch in the desert area, nothing happened to it. Then I tried my hand, I could feel the heat and see it move through the dry air and then feel it when it exited as raindrops started hitting it, but other than that nothing happened.
I almost went in, but decided to try to chuck a rock in on the desert side and then change perspective to see if I could see it from the forest side.
I could not… went back to the desert side and saw the rock, right where it had landed! This could mean that we had stumbled upon a teleportation glitch or some sort of an optical illusion.
Stalker kept up a running commentary on smells coming from the area and he seemed fascinated with the optical illusion effect. I was watching him to see if he was making moves towards the desert, but either the dry heat or newly found wisdom held the curious fox back.
I was tempted to go in and see if I actually got transported somewhere else, but there were too many unknowns and remembering the disappearing window to the ocean in the cave… I decided that the risk of being stranded in some faraway desert was too big to actually try something…
So with some regret, I made a mental note of the fallen tree and the general area in the hopes I would be able to find it again. It seemed unlikely, the forest was huge afterall, but with Stalkers superior nose and tracking and my sense corruption skill it was not entirely impossible.
With a sigh I turned away from the shard, thinking about how many more secrets Limbo held. It was almost like encountering a graphic glitch in real life! I wondered if my experiences here had moved my internal bar for wonder? Had I experienced something like that a few weeks ago, I would have questioned my sanity…
Now I was more focused on getting out of the rain and back, talking with Torle, Nelly and Barlo and hopefully spreading some hope to the rest of the camp. I also had Deggan and his reaction to deal with, so a stationary glitch, while fascinating, had to wait!
Stalker sensing my mood, cut down on the sidequests and soon enough we were hearing the Twack Twack of lumber axes. We were getting closer!
Not really feeling the urge to be caught up in a lumber team and delaying our return to the camp. We decided to skip the teams and make our way directly to the camp. It took around an hour more before I could see the barracks through the thinning tree line. At this point I think it was around lunch time and the thought of some of Torle’s cooking and a warm cup of tea was mouthwatering.
As Stalker and I came into view of the camp, we immediately got noticed by a one armed guard… No, he didn’t just have one arm, but the other was bound up and held in a splint and I didn’t notice it at first.
“Halt!” The guard shouted, brandishing a spear, I decided to wait patiently, figuring it would be just my luck getting through everything and then die to a nervous guard throwing a spear, because I couldn’t wait 5 minutes to get a bath…
While I stood and waited, I noticed a few things. The guard was one of the guards I had fought besides the prior night. Not Kwanlo, but the other one. It seemed that even the supernatural healing speeds in Limbo couldn’t fix a crushed arm in a day.
Also I could see the remnants of a large bonfire, from where I was standing it was hard to see details, but it looked like the woodwraiths had endured quite a few casualties in that raid. Judging from the fact that no one I could see was unscathed, the same was probably true for the camp.
Within minutes a smaller man approached me with the nervous guard in tow and I smiled and relaxed when I recognized the goatman Torle.
“Torle”, I shouted in greeting, as he returned a “Mike!” and we moved towards each other, meeting with a firm clasping of arms. The guard relaxed, as Torle clearly knew me and as he got closer I could see that he finally recognized me, or at least the fox at my side, and with a smile he came over and clasped my shoulder with his good hand.
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“You made it!” he said and turned to wave the all clear to the handful of wounded men that had gathered with weapons in the courtyard.
“I have news… good and sad” I said and looking at Torle I continued “I found Frino and…”
“Tuttuttut! Old Torle will hear all that and more, but first a bath, you are not getting in my mess hall looking like that! Some clothes too I think and then something to eat” he grinned, “after all news is best shared with a full belly” He looked at Stalker and added “Yes, food and rest for your friend here as well.”
Torle turned to the guard and said, “Folan, would you be a dear and take Mike to the bath and get some spare clothes for him?” as Folan nodded, Torle continued, “Bring him to the mess hall afterwards and tell the others that they will have to wait for answers till after he is fed”
Stalker and I went with Folan, and there was just enough time to talk about the raid and how glad we both were to see the other survive it.
When I asked about Kwanlo, he went still and said, “Kwanlo made it, but I think it broke him… Seeing his love like that, watching you kill her…” he looked at the barrack with the mess hall and with sadness in his voice he said “Kwanlo is in the infirmary for now… Try to avoid him? I fear he might blame you, as much as he blames himself.”
I nodded. I couldn’t imagine the horror of having to face my wife in a condition like that and then having to watch, as she was brutally slain next to me.., I quickly erased the thought of my wife from my mind, nononono NO… She was safely back on earth and when I had said my final farewell, I had to push her from my mind or risk failing to find the courage to go through with it all…
I spent the shower pushing those memories in the background, a task that was both easier and more difficult now with my enhanced mental stats. I felt more in control of my thoughts, but at the same time my memory had gotten an upgrade and triggered by Kwanlo’s story and grief, it was a struggle to put a lid on it again.
Soon enough Stalker and I had showered, although Stalker had been less than willing at first, and we found ourselves seated in the mess hall. Folan came over with some meat for Stalker, and gushed a bit over the freshly bathed fox, thanking him for his assistance during the raid. I was happy to see my friend get some credit for all his help.
Torle brought out a seemingly endless supply of food and drink and then sat down across from us at the table.
Torle looked at Folan, trying to pet a softly growling Stalker, and then at the little group of people trying to get closer, without getting noticed. A futile attempt in the nearly empty mess hall
Without really raising his voice, Torle’s words somehow filled the mess hall, and he said, “let us give our returned friend some space, yes?” as they reluctantly left the mess hall, Torle looked at Folan, and said, “you too Folan, Old Torle promises not to sit on any news that is for us all, yes?”
Alone at last, I looked at all the food, the vegetables, the gravy and quickly grabbed some more water and downed a cup. Taking a deep breath, I began recounting a heavily redacted tale of what had happened to me after I got abducted by the woodwraiths.
Torle was a good listener and even better guard dog, every time someone just had to get something from the mess hall or kitchen. He stopped me in time and quickly ushered the curious out of his demesne.
The telling took longer than anticipated and we were getting to the point where the lumber crews would be coming back. With them Nelly, Barlo and Deggan.
As I finished with a dramatic recounting of how Frino sacrificed himself to appease the guardian of the Ghostwoods, thus saving the camp from further attacks. Torle sighed heavily and said, “You learn quickly young Traveler…” shaking his head and looking sad, he continued, “Your story rings true enough, but also I feel there is much you do not tell Old Torle“
As I opened my mouth to protest or to tell another half truth, he stopped me, “No no, Old Torle does not need the details, just answer me this.”
“You entered an archive and somehow stopped the forest from further aggression? And Frino was an integral part in this?” I nodded and said, “Yes, without Frino’s heroic sacrifice it would not have been possible.”
Torle looked down into his nearly empty cup, lost in thoughts for a second and then said, “Good, Frino’s sacrifice will divert attention away from you, maybe that will be enough…”
He looked up at me and asked, “Where are the necklaces?” He looked around the mess hall, making sure no one had snuck in.
“I left them with Frino, It felt wrong to take them out of the archive”
Torle nodded with relief, “Good good, yes this is as it should be. Dangerous still, Deggan saw them during the raid and he has asked questions about you…” Outside we could hear some commotion as one or more crew had returned back to camp.
“We do not have much time, so for now keep the details for yourself, trust no one and try to divert attention to Frino” The door to the mess hall opened and one of Deggan's lieutenants, above Torle in the chain of command, entered with a crew and soon more followed, looking for information from the man who came back from the forest!
Torle stood up on the bench and after calming the crowd, shouted:
“The forest has been appeased! Our Frino sacrificed himself, so his friends and the camp would be spared!”
He looked at me, and added “Our new friend Mike, witnessed Frino's final struggle and brings word to us of his deed!” people did not look entirely convinced, but Torle added,
“I believe him when he says the forest is appeased and the rest of you will soon find out if there is truth to it…”
A murmuring spread among the gathered, Folan was quick to add his voice to those believing and when Torle said, “Truth or not, Mike is the first that has returned from the forest, let's celebrate! Bring out the beer!”
The crowd cheered at that, truth or not, it had been a hard day's labor and some cold beer and good news were welcome!
Soon Stalker and I were surrounded by people wanting to hear the story, and I tried to keep it simple and with Frino as the hero, aided by the truth of it. A bit later the door opened and Moll and his crew entered and quickly they moved to hug me and I could see a million questions in their eyes, but as they started to ask them a soft voice, like steel clad in silk, interrupted the merriment.
“Ahhh, I see our newest lumberjack returns, victorious and with wondrous tales of daring?” Deggan stood at the edge of the crowd, a few of his lieutenants at his back, the crowd quickly moved so the area between us was clear. Eager, curious, some scared to see what would happen, now that the camp's little tyrant was back.
Nelly gave me a frustrated look, she had questions, but stepped into the crowd. Sslaras and Barlo looked almost ready to interrupt Deggan to ask me about Frino and what else had happened, but Moll appeared as if by magic behind them and with a light touch on their shoulders reined them in.
Deggan smiled, and stroked his silken beard, his clothing was marked by a day of hard work in the forest. He walked towards me, no menace, no threat, yet the memory of how he had slaughtered the woodwraiths with a sword shining like the sun was enough to keep me very still.
He stopped in front of me and with a flourish of his hand he indicated Stalker and me and said:
“The very least I can do is invite our returning hero to dinner in my quarters”
“umm, thank you… but I have just…”
Deggan, his eyes locked on my chest, as if he tried to see beneath my shirt, looked up and the smile was gone. as if it had never been there, said:
“I insist…”
