Storm Island Expedition

Pleasant Peasant, Pheasant Present

Thomas had wasted nearly a week in the mines near the port.   He was so lost in there that he had to rely on an auto generating map magically created by his journal, just to get around.  Even then, he managed to get lost ... twice.
Dehydrated, a sprained ankle, and countless whining, and all he had to show for it, was an extremely detailed map that pointed out each ore deposit and vein in the mine.
He probably could have made a fortune selling the information, even if there was little in there more valuable than coal, but still.
When he made it back to the port town, the healers patched him up pretty quickly.  The Western trader even offered to set up a sort of banking system in the port, for a fee.  Poor Thomas gave up the rest of the info on the mine to the Trader.  The Trader effectively had full mining rights to the mine now, and Thomas didn't even have anything worth banking.

Thomas set out the next morning on his journey along the coast.  He mapped where he went. Recorded any trees and bushes he saw.  He even tried to draw the local wildlife. (Fortunately, after he turned the page, the Journal auto-corrected the drawings into more accurate images.)
In a mere three days, he had covered the band of coastline and near-edge swamp all along the western edge of the Island.  His little survey didn't find anything important, or at least nothing that would be considered uncommon.
He noted that a little to his northeast was a bit of forest, and he decided to expand his little search and cover part of the northern edge of the Island.

Another half a day's worth of trekking, and he covered the northern edge of Island.  He noted the forest as well, as he went along.
Thomas couldn't believe that the forest expanded so far to the southeast.
When he reached a sandy area where the water rushed in from the sea, and seemingly under the mountains, he paused to take a drink.  "Salt water, yuck" as he spat it out.
"A mountain range.  What should I call it?"  He paused for a while.  "I know, the Great Thomas Range." As he tried to mark it on the Journal, his pen ran out of ink.  "Drat. I'll write it in later."
Thomas gazed at the mountains, but had no interest in climbing them.  Instead, he turned his attention to the forest to the southeast.  "Hmm, these trees definitely remind me of the forests around Asgarnia.  Nothing more than common trees here.  Figured they'd be all sparkly or emanating waves of impending doom.  But no, just common trees."
Not wanting to risk the night, he setup a small camp, then went to sleep.

He blissfully awoke to the new dawn, packed his gear, and strode into the forest.
The path he carved through the trees was as simple as any road through Misthalin.  He hardly needed to swerve or chop branches to make any headway.
By late afternoon, Thomas had come across an old stone structure.   It was weathered, inscripted with runes, and barely ten feet wide.  It reminded him of a gazebo? No, but it was something he had seen, but was not sure where.

Thomas touched one of the pillars to get a closer look at an inscription, but he failed to notice a growing energy, pulsing above his head.
There was a brief flash, in the blink of an eye Thomas found himself in the forest again, but he felt out of place.
He turned to the east then north, but only saw the sea.  When he turned south, he saw a set of rolling hills.  Finally, in the distant west, he saw the mountains.  He checked, and then double checked his compass.  He wasn't simply turned around, he was somewhere else.
Thomas attempted to recreate what happened for most of the night.  He tried incantations, strange dances and noises, he even leaned against the structure, but nothing happened.  At some point, he got tired and fell asleep.

Once again, he blissfully awoke, but to the smell of a fire and cooked meat in the near distance.  A mere fifty paces away, he saw a strange looking man, cooking at the fire.
'Why greetings' the man waved to Thomas.  'Come, come. Sit. Join me.'  A wide smile on his mouth.
Thomas was glad to meet a friendly face, especially one offering breakfast.  'So, what are we celebrating?'
'Oh' the old man replied 'the same thing we always celebrate, the King.'
'The King? There is a king around?'
'Yes ... well ... err ... no ... at least until he returns.   Then we will have a king again.'
Thomas just smiled and went along with it as he grabbed a piece of the meat.  'So when will the king be back?'
'He will be back when he gets back.'
'Ok.' Thomas started to wonder about the man.  'So .. err .. tell me about you.'

'Little old me?'
'Yes.'
'I am just a mere peasant to the king. One of his many loyal subjects.'
'Many?'
'Of course.  You cannot be a king with just one subject, now can you silly?'
"Uhm, I guess not.  How long have you been waiting here for him?'
'Not sure. What phase of the month is it?'
'What?  You mean the moon?'
'No silly.  It was ... uhm ... oh well ... longer than yesterday.'
'Ah.'  Thomas was starting to think the man had lost his mind, or was a bird brain.
'So what else is there around here?'
'Trees.'
Thomas looked around, 'Yes. Lovely trees. Grass too, and rocks. But, what else?'
'Statue.'
'Statue?'
'Yes. I did say that. Right over there.' The peasant pointed off into the woods.
Thomas could make out something large in the trees. A few steps closer revealed a large worn statue, with the same inscriptions as on the structures.
'Who is the statue of?' Thomas asked.
'The king.'
Thomas was now convinced, the man was a bird brain.
'Be careful though.   Don't touch the statue.  Strange things happen.'
'What sort of strange things?'
The old peasant leaned in to Thomas, and whispered 'Strange.'
'Uh Huh.  Ok then.'
The old man finished off the last of the meat, and doused the fire.  Thomas walked back up to the statue and looked at it even more closely.
As Thomas approached the statue, it gave off a strange hum and glow.  He didn't know what to make of it.
'I told you, don't touch' the old man said again as he walked up next to Thomas.
'I know.   I wasn't going to touch it.  I just needed to get a good look at it.'
'Oh.'  He then looked about for a moment. 'So, whatcha thinking about?'

'The statue.'  In reality, Thomas couldn't get the image of the man as a bird out of his head.  The old peasant's mannerisms reminded him how a bird looked and moved about.  The man's nose and long thin neck even reinforced the thought.
'Ok.'  The old man gave a good slap to Thomas' back.
Thomas lost his balance and smacked face first into the statue.  The old man tried to keep them both up, but he too came into contact with the statue.
For a moment, Thomas heard the build up of the hum, then another flash of light.
He looked around, and he was still next to the statue. He was certain he was in the same spot, just everything looked ... bigger.
'Oh no, I've been shrunk!' he thought to himself.
He heard a 'coo' come from next to him.  When Thomas looked to where the old peasant should be, he saw a bird.  A glorious looking peacock to be precise.  The bird looked about, spread its tail, then walked off into the forest.
Thomas then looked about again.  His backpack was on the ground, as were his clothes, and other gear.  'Oh no. I've lost my clothes!'
Thomas then realized the words were not coming out of his mouth as they should.  He craned his neck and on his left, he found a feathered wing.  When he looked to his right, he found another feathered win.  Then when he looked behind, he saw a three feathered tail.
'A pheasant?' was Thomas' last thought.