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An Unsettling Portent

Osprey sits on the edge of a rocky escarpment, looking out over the land below. He is dressed as a tribal shaman, with a cloak of gray and a staff hung with charms and talismans. His hair hangs down his back in a practical braid, unstirred by the slight breeze.

Malic plops himself down on a patch of soft grass next to Osprey. Pushing back his signature hat, Malic peers up at the sky. "Nice day."

Gia smiles at her friend, her eyes still slightly anxious from the urgency of the whole situation. "Good to see you, Osprey. Did you get my message?"

Osprey nods, not looking at the newcomers; his posture relaxes somewhat, though, making it clear that he is pleased to see them again. "Brother Malic... sister Gia. I did indeed receive your tidings. This matter is seeming more and more ill-omened."

"That's one way of putting it." Arkadi emerges from behind some shrubs, looking rather bleary-eyed.

Malic glances back at the Red, who's joined them suddenly. "You caught up rather quickly. Any problems with the goddling back there?"

Osprey turns, indigo eyes coolly sizing up the new arrival.

"I hate it when they run." says Arkadi.

Malic blinks at the Red.

Arkadi shakes his head. "sorry, wrong one...no, none at all."

 "Well. Osprey, this is Arkadi," Malic introduces the new arrival, "who my contacts at the Bureau recommended to help us figure this thing out."

"Running on too little sleep here," Arkadi warns. "I'm going to be a little flakey."

Osprey nods to the red-eyed man, politely acknowledging him. Gia looks startled by Arkadi's arrival, but smiles at him nicely nonetheless.

"Have you learned anything, Osprey?" asks Malic.

Osprey shrugs.

"Well, let's go learn things then," says Malic. "The top of this ridge isn't the best place to become enlightened."

"Little that you won't have already found out, if you've been in this area. Most of my efforts have simply involved establishing an identity here."

Malic pushes himself to standing with a hand on Osprey's shoulder and starts wandering off, toward the Red Cow Village.

Osprey brushes off the shoulder where Malic's hand rested. "I have repeatedly encountered a troubling portent, though: dead birds, their hearts pierced by fallen branches."

"That's a cheerful," says Arkadi.

"Any particular type of bird?" asks Malic. His familiar is circumspectly following the slender Yellow, pausing occasionally to chew on nice shiney rocks.

"One of them was a crow, the other a red-tailed hawk."

Gia chews her lip thoughtfully, brows furrowed in concern. "I hope that it's not some sort of thinly-veiled threat."

Osprey raises a questioning eyebrow at the red-haired woman.

"We angered a small god on the way here," she explains. "And of course, there may be other beings about that resent our interference."

A sharp crack sounds in a nearby tree. Gia whirls around to see what made the noise. Malic trots over to see what made the crack.

Osprey smoothly rises to his feet, hand on his staff. The paper ward attached to the hilt of Osprey's cursed sword, which protrudes through a slit in his cloak, flutters in the wind.

Arkadi whips around towards the crack.

A tree branch has fallen, as though struck by lightning. Its end still steams. Crushed under it is a nest, and a songbird struggles to pull an oddly twisted wing from the wreckage. Malic crouches by the bird and attempts to remove it from the smashed nest. It is easy for him to lift the heavy piece of wood.

Gia peers over the fallen bough and turns to Osprey. "You said the others were a crow and a hawk?"

Osprey strides over and examines the portent with dark eyes. He nods to Gia.

Arkadi scowls.

"So a crow, commonly associated with Saturn.. Hawk, known as a bird of war.. And songbirds bring joy and happiness." Gia frowns. "I would call these more threats than portents, or at least, I would hope they are."

Forge is not in the least perturbed by this activity, Malic notices.

"...what the HELL did I do?" asks Arkadi. "I just got to this party."

"It may be speaking of Phion, and not of you, Arkadi," says Gia. "Either way, it's quite.. disconcerting."

"Huh, well...let's just hope we don't bump into an owl," says Arkadi.

Gia smirks at Arkadi. She goes to examine the stump that the branch broke off from, and tries to discern what caused the break.

Malic peers at the injured bird's wing. The wing isn't broken, but it is bruised and might be dislocated. The bird chirps nervously.

The stump is also steaming. There is a strange angular pattern that seems to be burnt into the wood.

Malic sits himself on the ground to prevent him from loosing his balance and tries to pop the wing back into place with his right hand, holding the bird firmly with his left.

Arkadi kneels down by the pattern. "This isn't what I'd call a normal scorch mark."

Malic sets the bird back in its tree, along with a much-smashed nest, and peers at the burn-mark along with Gia and Arkadi.

Gia calls forth the green spider that was floating, dematerialized, near her shoulder. "What caused this scorchmark?"

"Aside from the giant bolt of lightning, you mean?"

Gia shoots Arkadi a look. "The source of the lightning is what I'm after."

"What lightning?" asks Malic. "It just fell down."

Osprey glances at the branch stump, then turns away as he sees his compatriots gather around it. His dark eyes scan around him, searching the trees for anything which might have caused this strange event.

The spider weaves a little silk net in the air and pulls a secret out of it. It proceeds to discuss the conditions of weather in this region, including the odd phenomenon of dry lightning. It helpfully adds that this phenomenon has increased dramatically in recent weeks.

"That's odd. Is there an astrological effect causing this? If so, please list the petitioner and his or her cosignatories for me."

The spider promptly replies. "This is an astrological effect. I cannot comply with second request."

"Why not?" asks Arkadi.

Gia turns to him. "It's either lost knowledge, or being actively hidden. I tend to believe it's the second, for obvious reasons." She sighs, dejected at the prospect of a dead end.

"Well, we could do this the mortal way..." says Arkadi.

"Gia, why don't you just cut off the marked part of that branch and we can study it later?" Malic suggests. "We should get to the village and start seeing what there is to see."

Osprey narrows his eyes. "I mislike this. There is an unusual silence about this place."

"I suppose." Gia sighs, breaking off the edge of the branch that was marked with the odd lightning.

Malic glances around, noting the silence that Osprey pointed out. After a few moments, the Southron shrugs. "Well, I don't see anything odd aside from that. I'm heading down to the village."

Malic entrusts Forge with his prized hat as he quickly improvises a disguise. A few minutes later and Malic resembles Osprey, though raggieder, dirtier and shorter. He too has braided his hair and looks a great deal like an apprentice shaman, his daiklave and firewand cleverly hidden in his robes.

== At the Village ==

"Shaman Osprey, who are these people?" The village guards are in semiformal battle gear; their red feather cuffs aren't being kept moist as they should be.

Gia smoothes the handkerchief covering the red of her hair, and for once is thankful that all of the trapsing about has dirtied her clothes enough to disguise their finery. Arkadi looks typically utilitarian and dingy.

Osprey gestures at Malic with his staff. "This is Moulting Grouse, my pupil. He has recently returned from his first test to become a true shaman... though I regret to say that he must still gain more wisdom before he is ready to walk that path."

Arkadi mutters 'feathers in their uniform...I hate that.'

Malic struggles to keep a blank face, mouthing "moulting grouse?!?" silently while the guards look at Osprey.

"We came across these two travellers on our way here," Osprey explains. "They seem to be traders who lost their path, and have been wandering in the woods without food or shelter."

Arkadi blinks Trader?! TRADER?! He feels vaguely insulted.

Gia tries her best to look tired and hungry, which is actually not that hard.

Although Osprey's face is solemn and formal to the casual observer, his friends easily recognize that he is smirking at "Moulting Grouse" Malic.

The guards' eyes flicker over the two others disinterestedly. "Hrmph. As if we needed more of that kind. Why just the other week Pheasant Bows came back from the sacred mountain all full of ghosts and advice..."

Osprey takes on a serious look. "I, too, have seen many troubling portents in recent days."

As if hearing his name called, a hulking man in gray silks comes to the gate.

Arkadi blinks, copper's instincts instantly sizing up the new arrival.

He looks as though he were a warrior gone to fat. Underneath a layer of bounty are the stern joints of a body trained to combat. "Shaman Osprey! You've returned!"

Arkadi pauses a moment to light up a cigarette.

Malic studies the silks the big man is wearing, remembering something the brothers told them about silkworms nearby. The silk is roughly woven, but nonetheless its dye is amazingly even and its cut even manages to flatter the shaman.

Osprey nods, rattling the charms on his staff. "I have. It seems that the village has become troubled since I left."

Gia sighs and shifts, using subtle body language to translate for Malic as before.

Malic taps Gia on the arm, flicking his eyes toward the fat shaman. His clothing, it seems out of place. Maybe from those worms we heard of?

You're right, agrees Gia. I will find a lull in the conversation, or some other chance, in which to inquire as to the tailor of his garments. The silk is explained, as you said, but the sheer quality is not.

"Trouble? I suppose that you could call it that."

"These men say that you have witnessed unsettling omens, Pheasant Bows. I, too, have seen troubling and unnatural signs during my travels. Let us share what we have seen, that we may discern what they speak of."

"I have seen strange lightning over the lakes. It turned the water red and gold. Also..." Pheasant Bows trails off.

Osprey nods sagely. "I have seen this same lightning you speak of. It has struck down branches from trees, which have in turn struck down the birds of the sky." He gives Pheasant Bows a penetrating look. "What else is it you have seen? Shall we speak of it outside the hearing of these others?"

He shakes his head. "I was only going to say that I also saw winged creatures on the shore. The sands were dark with drowned locusts."

Osprey leans on his staff. "The full meaning of these omens is hidden to me, but I cannot help but believe that they bode ill."

Gia scratches her shoulder, looking to Malic. Does any of this stuff sound like the work of your buddy, the Magnate of Curses?

Malic tilts his head slightly, indicating no.

"I must agree. The very air smells of death."

In translating that last line for Malic, Gia takes a small liberty with the wording. The man says you smell terrible.

Malic sniffs himself circumspectly. He does not smell bad... though Arkadi begs to differ.

"Gentlemen...are you going to enter the village or not?" The guard looks irritated. He scratches at his wrist.

Osprey turns a level gaze upon the young warrior.

Malic pulls himself up to his full height and glares at the guard, silently admonishing him for rushing the shamans.

"Hey, who are you?" He looks at Gia and Arkadi as if he hadn't noticed them before.

Arkadi blinks. "My name's..." He stops for a moment. "Bond."

Gia clears her throat, speaking quietly in unaccented Wood Tongue to Pheasant Bows as she moves to enter. "We are weary traders who have lost their goods and way."

He recoils and turns a warm smile to Gia at the same time, looking confused.

Gia turns green eyes to Bows. "Not to be rude, sir, but your garments are the finest I have seen in quite some time. Where did you get such finely-made clothing?"

"We shall escort you both to the chief, then, once the honourable sorcerers are done with their business."

Osprey nods to the young man, expressing pleasure at his respectful tone. "You do well to respect those who walk with the spirits, young one." He turns to Pheasant Bows.

Pheasant Bows picks at a sleeve. "It was a gift from the (insert direction here) chieftain, for whom I did a favor once."

Gia flashes Pheasant Bows a bewitching smile in the hopes it will help her stick in his mind. "It must have been some favor." She turns to the guard. "Thank you for allowing us to enter. We would be honored to meet your chief."

"Let us move on, then," says Osprey. "Come, Moulting Grouse."

Malic glares balefully at the back of Osprey's neck as he follows the taller man.

Osprey strides forward, his staff's talismans swinging.

Malic trots to walk beside the guard he glared at earlier, offering a friendly and making-up type smile to the young warrior. In heavily old-realm accented Forest-Tongue, Malic addresses him. "I have been long on my journeys. What has happened in the area recently? Do the Headless Nightengales still trouble?"

The warrior blinks, and replies in the sort of careful language one reserves for foreigners and the insufferably dull. "Not any longer...our warriors have captured theirs, for the most part, and their shamen and ancestors are too cowed by out power to act."

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