Iorrjaer

Chapter 8

Sorâth and party came into sight of Ockburg's walls and he decided that one more full night of rest was needed before they approached and entered. His silent truth was that he wanted a night to observe the town from outside its walls. The Elken Spirit's warning of Yophiel was still in his mind and he wanted to make sure he was aware of every danger before he took her inside. There was more at stake than just her fragile ego. More she could interfere with.

Another silent truth was that all during the trip, he was increasingly aware of a waking evil emanating from Ockburg. As it was, at the time of his observation, the entire town seemed inert. The ziggurat's zenith peaked quite a bit over the town's walls and was imposing. Sorâth stared intently at it, hoping that something would reveal itself.

Alas, it remained inert.

The party found a spot off the road where Häsmæl and Shedmoth worked together at clearing stumps and other large debris that would have caused interruption or uneven ground for the tents. Once things were cleared, Barsabel, Malka, Graphiel and Yophiel brought the mule and wagon up and started to unpack.

Kârael, ever diligent and aware, resumed his usual scouting. He was concerned about being followed. Sorâth kept watch of the town. His energy split to watch the road, the woods and the town. Yophiel was amazed by his ability to be so aware of everything around him. She had once caught him telling Malka and Graphiel about things that he had heard and seen throughout the night and it was like he was aware of things happening over miles away.

Once the camp was made and things were settled, the party split to do their normal chores. Kârael appeared and asked Häsmæl for help with the hunting. Barsabel and Bethar, with Malka's aid, got the fit pit ready as well as cooking spits. Yophiel helped lash the sticks and branches, guided by Graphiel, that made the spits and crude cooking racks. She asked how they all had learned such survival tricks and they all smiled at her.

Malka was the first to respond: "Years of practice and adventuring, my dear."

Barsabel saw the dissatisfaction in Yophiel's face: "What he means is that, like everything, it comes with necessity. Being out in the world, like we all have, required us to learn these skills."

"There are things called inns and taverns." A flash of her old tone surfaced and was shaken off. "We're just outside the walls, why not go inside? There surely is an inn there. One with a kitchen and a proper bed."

"Indeed." Malka said with a chuckle. At least she is not shouting about being a Paladin. Nor interfering. The mushrooms must be holding. Good. "Just not out here."

"If you happen to see any," Bethar said, finishing up getting the fire going. "Let us know."

"If you don't like it out here, let's go into town."

"Don't get us wrong," Barsabel said, grinning. "Being out here is freedom. But some luxuries are worth the coin."

"Being out here, just lets us enjoy them even more." Malka said before Yophiel could interject. He was smiling and lightly whistling to himself.

Yophiel thought this over as she followed their cue and sat back to wait for Kârael and Häsmæl to return with dinner. Her mind raced with thoughts and memories of everything that had been happening. She reflected on her behaviour the most and started to see why the others were weary of her, why Graphiel yelled at her.

The mushroom mixture that Sorâth and Malka had cast upon her was repressing her urges to continue her boasts. As soon as they surfaced, they were silenced. She noticed that they were more pleasant with her now that she was more docile, but she could still hear the suspicion in their voices when she asked a question. Before she relished in her claims and insults, she felt justified by them, vindicated by how she made everyone, the great adventurers, guarded. Now, those same thoughts and impulses were vile and painful.