Chapter Eight: On Travelling, Fauna and Magically aided painting.

Ivak was still not fully awake, Claroosa and Fatho had dragged him out of Welterine, and into the wilds of Lathinles, a land filled with mountains, forests, mountain forests, snow and riddled with caverns. So much like a lot of Nortrieln.

Many people used teleporting gates or the great tunnel roads of Nortrieln for travel. The circle of mages in control of the gates however exacted heavy prices for their use, and indeed the constructions required a lot of maintenance and care. Teleportation was always a dangerous thing to use magic for, and it took quite a bit of effort to make it safe, lest one find oneself changed or lost in some strange distant land. The tunnel roads and the gates, however did not lead everywhere.

Lathinles was also home to a vast field of ice, no tunnel or gate led to this place. The Mirror of Galshea’s Dreams, or as many knew it the desert of Galshea or even just Galshea. Galshea’s tales were a tragic ones, and supposedly Galshea was trapped beneath the ice, but nobody could agree on that or what or who Galshea was. It wasn’t uncommon for writers in Lathinles to come up with new tales of Galshea, these writers were generally decried by other writers, but many of those that could read enjoyed tales of Galshea.

Galshea rested heavily in Ivak’s head as he shivered within his coat and cloak, as even with the magic sewn into the clothes, he still felt cold, having only recently woken and trudging through snow and past blue leaved trees that seemed to delight in dumping snow on those that dared to pass below. The howling winds didn’t help either. Ivak almost felt that they were clawing at him. He didn’t dare think of what it would be like with mundane clothes, or without a hearthstone.

Ivak glanced to Claroosa.

She marched beside him, bearing their hearthstone on a staff. It was by hearthstones that one could safely travel the surface of Nortrieln, artefacts that could consume cold and produce an area of warmth and calm the raging winds. Naturally they worked better when immobile.

Being from House Vulk, Ivak and Claroosa had a truly fine specimen of a hearthstone. In fact it was an everardent heathstone, it did not need recharged or re-enchanted. It was sphere of metal that’s colour shifted like flames, It had an opening on the top and smaller ones peppering the sides. The metal was certainly pretty but the actual sphere was crude, it almost looked like someone had beaten and torn it into shape.

Claroosa bore it atop a retractable staff, one that had clearly not been made by the same maker as the sphere. It was normal steel, but delicate veins of engravings like leaves went along its length. These glowed slightly with the same flame as the sphere. With the staff combined to the hearthstone it could even create a shelter from whatever the surroundings were, Nortrieln was littered with the remains of these structures that were only held together with magic.

The invention and popularization of hearthstones had opened up Nortrieln to all kinds of exploration and trade, as in the nature of magic in Kigan once something has been done several times, it becomes easier to form the pattern to do it again, as the flow of magic remembers.

One might think that the tunnel makers or the gatemages would have tried to suppress this wondrous artefact, and at the time they did, but there was still other dangers in travelling the surface, and the hearthstones themselves become deadly when filled to glut with cold. That and they realised that they could be better served as part of Nortrieln’s transport industry. The gates were still instantaneous (when active) and the tunnel roads were still safer, even with the things that lurk in the deep.

Ivak turned his gaze to Fatho, what worried Ivak was not the past history of hearthstones, but his present, and how his hearthstone, everardent as it was might be too weak to face the cold of Galshea.

“Excuse me, Mr. Gubbluk, but where are we headed?” he asked.

Fatho paused, closed his eyes and concentrated. Ivak shuffled nervously. Claroosa stood stoically.

Fatho opened his eyes.

“Awarth” he declared, and moved onwards amid the gnarled blue leaved trees.

Claroosa and Ivak followed.

“Good, we aren’t going to Galshea.”

They marched through the snow, or at least Claroosa and Fatho marched. Ivak mostly stumbled along, sometimes getting subtly balanced by Claroosa.

Ivak stopped and frowned.

“WAIT WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE ARE GOING TO AWARTH?” he screamed.

All sorts of woodland creatures were heard scattering this way and that through the snow and brush, various flying creatures moved about, spooked. ‘Awarth’ echoed along the tree trunks.

“What’s the problem milad?” Fatho asked, Ivak was taken aback by the sight of his angry large fisheye.

“I-i, well Awarth is really dangerous for Kigan natives, I don’t want us to get the shatters and die”

The shatters could certainly kill, as it was a strain for the natives of Kigan to move into the shadow of Kigan, Awarth and for those of Awarth to move into Kigan.

Most people didn’t want to crack into pieces and die, it was not a nice way to go. Even if the shatters don’t kill you, it usually takes weeks for the cracks to heal, if they even heal fully.

“Calm yourself milord, I’m sure Mr.Gubbluk will not lead us to our deaths, if his sense of direction worked like that then he’d already be dead. There is ways to enter Awarth and avoid risking the shatters, as you would recall if you regained your composure”

Claroosa placed a steadying hand on Ivak, who took a deep breath.

“Thank you Claroosa, you are correct”

Fatho guffawed.

“Course she is, why my gut is telling me that there’s something in Galshea that’ll get us there in one piece”

“Oh good” Ivak said. “…wait didn’t you say we weren’t going to Galshea?”

“Aye, we aren’t” Fatho bared his mouthparts. “We’re going through Galshea”

Ivak moaned in despair.

Claroosa gave him a few gentle pats on the back.

“Now, now milord, I’m sure we’ll be perfectly…”

She trailed off, and went still and alert, eyes darting around nose flared. Fatho was suddenly seeking refuge behind Claroosa, he too was keeping an eye out. The woman herself carefully planted the hearthstone and staff in the ground.

Ivak had the sense not to ask what was going on, instead he held his breath. The trees were swaying in the wind, all seemed clear. Nothing looked amiss to Ivak, but he trusted Claroosa’s awareness even if he didn’t know much of Fatho’s.

There was a cracking noise.

Ivak screamed as a grey-white blur slammed into Claroosa. Claroosa however remained standing, she skidded back a bit as she held the creature in place, her hands forcing against its hands, wrestling.

It was almost twice her size. Ivak recognised it instantly from a number of the bestiaries he had read.

Dalmuss’ Bruiser.

An appalug, a type of beaked bear. The first appalugs were made by the magician Urthok Dalmuss for similar reasons that most mages made kymhers, to rend the small time adventurers, thugs, thieves and other assorted misfits that would disturb their studies, oh and because they could.

The original appalugs were a combination between Nortrieln shaggy bears, royal mantled eagles and some dustback apes Dalmuss had bought from a magical merchant just to get the guy to leave. They were at first like all kymhers, uneven patchwork beasts.

Now they were beasts of rippling muscle, covered in white-grey fur, with a mantle of snowy white feathers. Thick arms ending in clawed hands, and scaly taloned feet. A bald head with a savage beak and cunning bird eyes that could even pierce through fog. Among the lesser order of beasts, fiends and monsters in general they were apex predators.

Like many creations of mages, they eventually ended up as wild creatures, unbound by the touch of a magician.

Ivak however just recalled one important fact.

“Fatho, they hunt in pairs, the one wrestling Claroosa is a distraction, the beasts real objective will be to snatch up the weakest looking of us and flee!”

Fatho responded to this by pulling Ivak down to the ground.

The other appalug whooshed past and slammed into a tree.

Fatho hissed.

“I can’t take something like that on in a direct fight!”

Ivak was a bit stunned, but he managed to speak.

“Don’t have to we just need to drive them off show them we aren’t weak!”

He got up and started yelling at the appalug. It didn’t launch back into an attack, slightly wary.

Fatho looked at Ivak sceptically, but shrugged and facing the beakbear took a deep breath.

Merfolk are known in Kigan for being able to reach very high volumes with their voices, Fatho was most certainly part mer, well several different parts were at least.

Fatho shrieked.

It was a horrific keening sound, Ivak felt as if the insides of his head were being scraped out, he involuntarily fell to his knees and clapped his hands over his ears. It didn’t help much. The appalugs didn’t like it much either, the one before Ivak and Fatho thrashed about letting out bellows of pain of its own.

Claroosa took advantage of the pain of the one she was dealing with to toss it against a tree, she would have beaten its strength eventually but by then it would have been too late. She was going to finish it off but she saw the other one frothing at the beak and advancing on Fatho and Ivak. She dashed over and landed a punch right under its chin. It actually lifted up into the air a bit. Claroosa did not let it come down. She hit in with a series of punches, each lifting the beast higher, she was shifting her feet as she punched too, until it was in the air directly above her.

Fatho stopped wailing, astounded at the display of strength and technique before him. The other appalug took this as a chance to try and save its hunting partner. Unfortunately for it, Ivak was in its path. Ivak had wisely decided to carry a satchel with a few small put useful paintings he had made with his crest’s power.

Ivak held forth a painting of fire, the turquoise crest in his eye flashed and the flames rushed out into the face of the beakbear. It howled and fell to the ground rolling. Ivak called back the flame into the painting. His crest this time flaring out behind him like thin insect wings.

While Ivak kept that beakbear back, Claroosa was dealing with the other one. It fell toward her, at this point stunned by her punches, she caught the beast by the sides.

She simply crushed it and let the ruined body tumble from her hands.

There was a squawk of fear from the remaining appalug, and it ran away clutching its burnt face.

Ivak swooned from the experience of the fight, but Claroosa caught him before he fell.

“Its over now isn’t it Claroosa?”

“It is over milord.” she replied.

Fatho stepped over.

“Well, I’m impressed, guess you weren’t called the Crusher of Treahmahne for nothing, to be honest I didn’t believe half of the stories Sleeping told me about the old days, but seeing what you did, I could believe some of them”

Claroosa looked away and coughed, slightly embarrassed.

“I’m actually a bit rusty, I’d have been able to take those on myself a few years ago, the stuff on my back didn’t help either”

“Well, I’m not complaining if that is you when rusty, you weren’t half bad either Milord Ivak, wasn’t expecting the fire. I just stood about and made a lot of noise, not sure it worked at all” Fatho said.

Ivak grinned and waved his hand about weakly.

Claroosa looked at the remains of her defeated foe.

“Mr Gubbluk, do you know how to cut the meat and skin from a creature?”

“I do ma’am” Fatho said.

Understanding her line of thought he went over and began cutting the skin from the appalug corpse.

Claroosa nodded.

“Good man, Milord can paint the results, having fresh meat will mean that much less we have to cut into our supplies, even if it is kymher meat.”

Ivak grimaced both at the thought of painting it and eating it.

“Do I have to paint it?”

“Yes milord”

Claroosa looked up into the cloudy sky. “We can still make quite a lot of distance today and it’ll be best to get away before scavengers show up, anything that comes looking for the meat will be something nastier than those two were”

“I’ll leave some meat behind so they don’t take it into their heads to start tracking us” Fatho said.

Fatho was making quick work of the dead beast.

Claroosa helped Ivak up and then began setting up an easel and canvas from the large pack on her back. Ivak sighed and began to cast one of the few spells he was able to. Yagmalral’s disciples had tried to teach him magic but it turned out he hadn’t the talent for drawing on the spark of life, heartflame or manipulating the pollen of the anchor tree or even the motes of magic, mana.

Still, Ivak closed his eyes, and pushed on the flows, already the pattern of a very old spell was forming in the flows of magic, it was easier with the action that had gone on, it had agitated the magic bearing pollen of Yiabggael the great anchor tree, which had its roots in the heartflame, the generator of magic of the world of Kigan. That and the appalug had released a decent amount of mana on its death.

He spoke old words and waved his paintbrush around in a pattern that had been made by artists and mages since a very early time in Kigan’s existence. To form a pattern one thing that made it easier was to make it look like the pattern would form.

Had Ivak not been so terrible at magic, he would have merely needed to will the pattern to form and gently shove the flows somehow. In short order, a whirling orb of colours appeared beside Ivak. The Artist’s Friend. Many mages devoted a lot of study to discover the origins of the spell.

One simply needed to stick an object in the orb and it would be covered in a colour of paint that the user thought of. The paint was not of good quality, and tended to vanish after one year and produce paintings vulnerable to possession and other kinds of magical mayhem, but a mage could refresh the painting, and if powerful enough, or possessing the right knowledge, make it as permanent as paintings with regular paints.

The pattern of the spell was one that formed easily in the flows of magic, so it had seen a lot of use and as a result would see more use. It was frequently used just to teach magic casting, never mind for actual painting.

Ivak sighed, willed the orb to be a particular shade of red and began to paint.