The War of Gods

Chapter 3 - Part 4

 "What type of druid can't grow berries?"

"I've barely finished my training! Self-taught, might I add!" Joel defended himself. He uselessly kept trying, however.

Three days they'd spent on the road and they were already fighting. They didn't talk much besides that, not that they minded. Two scholars and a druid was possibly one of the quietest match ups Mavar had seen. Jordan was the lively one that usually got the party talking.

Mavar sighed and moved off to grab some more wood while the other two squabbled. Mavar wasn't old, by Elven standards, but he had lived his life. Being forced to go through army duty had been embarrassing enough, and now he was reduced to picking up firewood so he didn't freeze to death.

He was being dramatic, of course. The weather here in Kor was the hottest of Patrax, only rivalled by the scorches of Algax, further to the west. He was basically toasting, compared to the average temperature in Kadyan.

They could see the lights of the next town on their path, so food wasn't that big of a problem for now, but money would become tight eventually if Joel couldn't figure out that berry spell. They would also need horses if they wanted to get to Tytherlyt any time soon... God, this was going to be a nightmare.

Following the positions on the beams, they could somewhat deduce where the artifacts were. The closest artifact would be somewhere along the northern Koran coast, directly opposite to the way they were going. Captain Briggs had called them downright stupid for not taking the opportunity and help of the army to get there. Mavar had agreed, to some degree. But none of them really wanted to be around anything Korfez-related, for the time being, and so they set off to the location of the second closest artifact: The Grand Dutchy of Tytherlyt. Or The Clew, as some called it.

Home to the Tiefling race, The Clew sat on the far East of Patrax. Mavar had never been there – most of his travels had been through the West coast – but Nerith was from there, so they a good idea of what awaited them. She spoke of the grand University of Cliffward, where she is enrolled, and apparently it is also where her parents work. Mavar had heard of the University, obviously. It had been founded by Kadyan himself and some of the greatest Mages of all time had attended it.

Mavar had never really bothered going there. He had dabbled in Wizardry during his old life, true, but it had been more a means to an end. Research, the historical kind, had been more his cup of tea. And once that didn't work out, God had been there to provide him power, so the University had nothing to offer him, in practicality. In knowledge, however... well, having allies within the organization wouldn't hurt.

He looked at Nerith, who kept bickering with Joel. A useless thought for now. They were still in Korfez and Szofe stood between them and Tytherlyt. If they kept walking, it would take them the better part of two months just to get to the Tytherlyn border. They needed horses, fast.