It was Marrowfire's opinion that the Firebirds moved on from Archendale because some of the local folk there had begun threatening to form a militia against them, but that was only one of a few different tales about the matter. Some others had heard that various priests had begun speaking out against the Firebirds' practices, which of course, said priests knew nothing about. Still others in the migrant group had experienced market sellers refusing to sell to them, or only making the worst of their wares available for them to purchase. The rumours of the group's theft, destruction of property, and free lovemaking that sprung up in conversations between townsfolk were subjects for laughter amongst the Firebirds as they moved out of the town. It was Moondew's opinion that many town wives were much more insulted by the professional lovemaking for which their husbands were sneakily paying than they were about the dewy eyed first love tumbles that the young adults were having behind their parents' backs. But no matter how true or false one reason or another was, the result was the same- the Firebirds moved out a litle less than a month after they'd arrived. Most people were grateful that physical altercations had at least been brief, minor, and kept to a minimum.
Led for a day and a half by a Circle of Spores- a handful of druids that were specifically focused on the location, cultivation, study, and use of fungi- the Firebirds were collectively preparing to replenish their depleted stocks of ritual and recreational plants. Supposedly, they were in the desired area, but the different types of fungi were, for whatever reason, all more difficult to find than normal. Clusters of three and four people spread out in the area, and the courtesan couple wound up clustered with two Firebirds who were as yet unknown to them.
"Fungi grows all over the swamp, wherever it pleases," Moondew noted to her disinterested partner as the two walked slowly. "Well, maybe not wherever, but I didn't have to make any kind of long pilgrimage to find anything that was wanted. Are you really looking?"
"No," Marrowfire sighed in response. "I've no idea what I'm looking for, and if you hadn't noticed, we were nowhere near a swamp- even the middens outside that excuse for a town were drier than I'm used to."
"We're specifically looking for relshar," Moondew supplied, checking over her shoulder that the other two Firebirds in their group hadn't heard. "It's golden brown looking, grows wider than it does tall, and has a thick cap. Very thick; it doesn't cook down to nothing like some other mushrooms do. And even the stems are delicious. If you grow enough of it, then harvest, slice, and fry it, you could go without meat for the rest of your life."
"Right," Marrowfire smiled. "You might go without meat for the rest of your life. I'd be more than a little upset if I had to substitute a decent pheasant stew with whatever you'd make with that literal rot."
Moondew giggled girlishly. "It's not that bad. You can cook and season it so as to make it seem different every so often," she soothed. "But first, we've got to search the stuff up. The swamp was quiet. Relshar needs a place that hasn't been ripped up by battles, or werewolves, or trolls, or-"
"Or whatever other annoying bullshittery runs about shedding blood of humans, elves, and other beasts," Marrowfire sighed. "Hard pressed to find land like that outside your grandmother's swamp, or maybe way north, in the middle of the Hullack. The whole of this area seems to like to go to war for fun."
One of the other two Firebirds, a young woman with radiant blonde hair that was both shorter and cleaner than was normal for most people in the migrant group, took off from the immediate area at a trotting pace. Moondew looked after her with a frown.
"What?" Marrowfire asked immediately, more concerned about Moondew than the departing group mate.
"I don't know," Moondew admitted unhappily. "But something's not quite right. I mean, we're not in the forest proper, but we are close enough that we should see some kind of change in folliage, and we haven't."
Marrowfire shrugged. "Maybe the Elves were partially right, and the outer edge has receeded."
"I hope that's not it," Moondew said quietly. "I also hope we're nowhere near those... Elves."
"What about us?" came the jovial voice of Deadriver himself. Both Moondew and Marrowfire jumped in spite of themselves, and turned around to face him. "Naw, I know you ain't just jiving about the rank and file. Bird says you and your kin got some prickly experience with the EV; was she right?"
Moondew instantly shook her head, making some of her brown ringlets tremble, but Marrowfire crossed her arms over her chest.
"What bird?" she demanded with an edge of insult.
"Bird I saw in my mind," Deadriver replied.
There was no arguing with him, and Marrowfire knew it at once. Anybody who could claim to get very real information from a very imaginary animal was not the kind of person to try to reason plainly with.
"How much do you know?" Marrowfire hissed, her eyes narrowing.
"Enough to not want to stroll up to their welcome mat," Deadriver admitted easily. "You're right; this area is hella dry. Usually, the bird flies closer to the forest, but this season, she's just circling high, miles away. Wants a check in first, so I'm in and checking. Seems like the blood ain't quite dry in the wound, though."
A tremor of frustration thudded through Marrowfire with her quickening heartbeat. "What the fuck are you saying, man? Would it kill you to, for once, just clearly say what you mean to say?"
"Whatever spirit normally guides this journey is refusing to bring the group any closer to their normal foraging grounds because there are people there that you might respond poorly to," Moondew clarified before Deadriver could even blink. "The spirit believes it would be in everyone's best interest if you dealt with whatever negative energies you have concerning whatever it is that happened with the people before."
Marrowfire turned around to look up at Moondew with a muted anger that still stung deeply.
"Well, you asked for it to be made plain, so... now... it's plain," Moondew whispered.
Marrowfire whipped around to glare at Deadriver with the full force of her anger and embarrassment. "Go. Away."
Deadriver gave a small, sharp nod, then turned around and walked away without another word.
"Now you," Marrowfire said with a grim determination, "come with me."
Moondew held out a slender hand, and for a moment, Marrowfire just looked at it.
"Please?" Moondew said, just barely louder than before.
"Nevermind; we might as well sit right here," Marrowfire relented. "I'll talk first, and then... we'll see, okay?"
"Okay," Moondew agreed, smoothing her skirts and purposefully turning around so that her back was to most of the rest of the group, who were all still uselessly searching for mushrooms in the dry, open area.
Marrowfire carefully sat next to Moondew without touching her, and produced a small flask. She uncorked it, took a sip, then handed it to Moondew, who shook her head.
"Fair enough. This is my childhood, before I could even think to spell the word Urmlaspyr," Marrowfire began. "My father was the only Strongheart in a clan of Ghostwise, you know that. Unlike the rest of the clan, he loved to roam and hunt- kind of like we're doing now, just for actual animals instead of fucking thick-capped mushrooms, or whatever. Anyway, he was away. And me, I always like to follow along behind. At a distance. I wasn't old enough to help, but I was good enough to track where he'd gone. Anyway, he and some others were after some big game, and I was after them, but came across this little lost Human thing. Fucking pitiful. Couldn't even tell if it were a girl, a boy, or anything else- almost thought it was some trickster spirit, except it was sniffling and crying. Clearly had been lost for hours, maybe a whole day. Can't imagine how it got away from its grown ups. Anyway, Ghostwise don't talk. We- they- take a vow of silence from the moment they have the sense to. And so had I. But when I couldn't get the thing to take dried provisions and water from me just by shaking them in its direction, well, I spoke. Two words, to be precise, because they were the only words I could think of in Common- 'good, take.' "
Marrowfire sighed and scoffed quietly, then took another sip from her flask. When she offered it to her partner again, Moondew took it and held it in her lap without taking a drink.
"The child took the food and water, and then refused to go away from me, so I listened to its description of where it thought it came from, and then started tracking. It took a day and a half to get back to the camp they'd described, and when we got there, it had been destroyed. Not by animals. It took the other half of the day to get within sight of the Human settlement. I didn't leave the forest, but I gave the child the rest of everything I had and pointed them straight toward what I hope was home. Or at least somewhere safe. But the trees have eyes, and ears, and worst of all, mouths. When I got about an hour's walk away from home, I found that my mother had made camp and waited for me. She handed me all my things, all packed up neatly. My father's hammers were on top. He wasn't with her, but he'd clearly sent them; they were always supposed to be my inheritance. I was going to cry then, but then my mother walked the hour back with me to the Ghostwise settlement. It had been razed to the ground, the same way the Human camp had been. I never saw the Eldreth Veluuthra. But it was their handiwork; their punishment for my helping a Human. I had to leave the clan because I'd broken my vow, and that was one thing, but the fact that the whole clan was set upon because I'd helped one Human, just one little lost Human..."
Moondew shifted the flask to her right hand and reached out her left to gently brush away the silent tears that had begun falling down her beloved's cheeks.
"I don't know how many escaped the attack. Or if they even had a chance to fight back. That dancing ceremony we had- that was the first I've seen of them, living or dead, since I hugged my mother and walked away from her, knowing I could never come back. That there wasn't even anything to come back to. I was so angry. With everything. With the stupid vow, the Humans, the Elves, myself. At first, I made every rookie mistake possible, trying to get myself killed by a bear or something, but. I made it just fine. Out of the forest. Down the terrifying trade roads, dodging soldiers, slavers, and highway thieves that all chased me far southeast. All the way down to the loud, ugly, smelly, hole in the ground called Urmlaspyr, which was smaller- and therefore more comfortable- than other places I could find to be. But unfortunately, where the only valuable thing about my being this size is the fact that everything about me is small. Or I guess the more appropriate adjective would be 'tight'. Although I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I learned that on the way down- I can't tell you how many tavern masters and travelling merchants demanded that kind of payment for giving me a place to sleep or a lift to the next town or settlement, upon discovering that I hadn't any coin. It took me getting caught at accidentally undercutting the professional whores that were already in the area to learn that I should be demanding coin for my 'services', though."
Moondew smiled gently. "That I can understand. There's a guild, in Daerlun. I almost got myself beaten up by those women- and I think three men- until I explained that I used to live in a swamp. One of the men told me to never tell anyone else that, and taught me how to make myself up like he did, and that was that."
Marrowfire stared at Moondew. "A man taught you how to put on makeup? The way he put makeup on himself?"
"Yes," Moondew nodded. "And in return, I showed him how people without penises can aim and pee standing up. He bet me that I couldn't, and winning that bet was actually the first bit of coin I got from someone other than my grandmother. We laughed about it, and became good friends."
Marrowfire scooted over and leaned herself on Moondew, who wrapped one arm around her.
"You know, during that dancing time- well, right before we started dancing- my mother. She made the signs to your spirits, and they made signs back."
"And I didn't understand a word," Moondew sighed with a touch of noticeable nostalgia. "But whatever it was, it meant I could be with you. That my grandmother and mother were happy, in fact, to give me to you."
"It means they're all dead, doesn't it?" Marrowfire asked in a small voice. "Everyone in the clan that I saw. They're all dead."
"Are we dead?" Moondew asked, tipping her head so that she could look down at her partner. "I could see them, yes, and they could see us. But I could also see the Firebirds, and you. And as far as I know, we're not yet dead. So who knows? My mother and grandmother are dead, yes, but your clan- here's what I think. Your mother sat and waited for you so that you could see with your eyes what had happened. I doubt she intended to cause you pain, but instead to let you know that the attack had simply happened. The fact that she survived it, and set up camp to wait for you, indicates to me that the rest of your people, if they were even half as strong as she, at least were able to get themselves away. She didn't want you to come home, see it in shambles, and think that everyone was dead. She didn't want you to run into an ambush, or perhaps other clan members who would have been angrier about your broken vow. And now- well, at the dancing ground, I mean- she came to see you take me as your partner, with this new clan. It's never going to be as it was with your traditions, and your ancestors, and everything, but- this is your clan now. Our clan. I've never even had a clan before; my grandmother barely tolerated a coven. But, we're here. And maybe it's not the Eldreth Veluuthra that Deadriver's guiding spirit really wants us to be careful of. Maybe its the fact that you may see signs of the Ghostwise. Living, or otherwise. It might be painful, either way. Like you said, you've always been a good tracker. So maybe now I know that you know good and damned well what relshar is, and why you weren't really looking for any."
Marrowfire closed her eyes and snuggled tighter into Moondew's side. "Yeah. You know."
"We've joined the circus. Our clan. Together. The first couple to dance on the same day, if we believe that old blind Dwarf."
"Dwarves have long memories," Marrowfire chuckled. "He's probably right. Y'know, Stronghearts are so used to being pals with Dwarves- my father's hammers are Dwarven make. Well, he made them according to Dwarven design." The Halfling sighed and opened her eyes again. "How long do you think Deadriver is going to make all these people go on looking for mushrooms in dry grass?"
"How long do you need to prepare yourself to see either more Eldreth Veluuthra handiwork or Ghostwise signs in the forest?" Moondew said very gently and quietly. "And it's not Deadriver himself. It's whatever god or spirit he follows. So we may as well not try to lie to it."
"Since whatever or whoever it is has a big fucking mouth," Marrowfire crabbed. "Out here telling my business like it's okay to tell."
"I don't know that gods and spirits have the same conceptions of privacy as we mortals do," Moondew snickered. "I know for sure that magic workers don't, or scrying, telecommunication, and message spells wouldn't exist. Imagine someone scrying on you while you're bathing! I've had that happen."
