The Scrolls of Skava

Return to the Emerald Oracle - Part 1

They flew on for two more hours, wanting to make sure they were well outside the jurisdiction of the Malan authorities, before landing again in the middle of a stretch of open prairie to complete their night's sleep. None of them were keen on the idea, as they were miles outside the protection of human civilization, in an area frequented by trolls, ogres and wandering tribes of humanoids, not to mention conventional wild animals that were known to prey on the occasional foolish, ill prepared traveler, and Diana made her feelings known to the men in no uncertain terms. There was really no alternative, though. There were no other human occupied territories within a day's carpet flight and they didn't dare set down anywhere where they might be surprised in the night by Malan guardsmen.

Arroc had been ashamed and embarrassed but unapologetic as he'd related the events in the tavern to Diana and Naomi, raising his voice to be heard above the noises of the carpet flight. The cleric had been angry, berating the trog savagely for using physical force in reply to a purely verbal insult, and berating him even more for taking it as an insult when the farmer had probably meant it perfectly innocently.

"If he had offended you, you should simply have told him so, and he would probably have apologised," she'd told him, but the trog's only reply had been "He called my mother a whore!" and that was the only thing she could get out of him. In the end, she was forced to simply let the matter drop and be grateful that no-one had been seriously hurt.

When morning came, the men all had thumping headaches, even Arroc, who could drink any human under the table, and Thomas was left marveling at the strength of treen ale. I hope I don't have to cast any spells today, he thought as he sipped carefully at his cup of Lydian tea, brewed from a bag of leaves that Teasel had produced from her backpack. I think I'd have trouble remembering my own name, let alone magic words. Fortunately, though, the prairie seemed peaceful enough at the moment, with just a few kebbobs grazing under the spreading branches of a solitary morsa tree and the tiny specks of prairie eagles circling in the sky above them. No sign of trouble anywhere.

The yellow sun was just peeping above the horizon when they sat down on their carpets again and took off, and the few clouds drifting placidly above the eastern horizon shone with golden linings as if their undersides were on fire. It turned out to be a glorious day, with a clear blue sky and hardly a trace of wind, although the members of Centaur team were unable to appreciate this as they flew at high speed through the crisp and cold high altitude air, their hair streaming out behind them and their clothes fluttering like flags in a gale.

Within the hour they'd returned to the coastline and turned southwest to follow it. Thomas's carpet now took the lead, since they were entering lands that Teasel knew best and it would be up to her to guide them to the Lonely Isles. "So long as the coastline continues more or less in a straight line, we'll know that we're not there yet," she told the wizard. "Where the Majestic Mountains march out into the sea and become islands, the coastline becomes very irregular."

The nome pointed out several landmarks as they flew over them. Several miles inland, just visible above the curve of the horizon, was a snowcapped, conical peak, standing all alone in the broad, flat prairie. "That's the Loneberg," she explained, pointing with a short, stubby finger. "According to legend, the entire mountain was raised up out of the ground by Diluvia, one of the first of the immortal wizards. She used it as her fortress in her battles with the other immortal wizards. Hollowed out the interior and turned it into a garden, with her palace in the centre, directly under the peak. She's supposed to be still there, asleep in her palace, waiting for the time when she'll emerge and reclaim her kingdom in the outside world."

"That's a common enough legend," replied Thomas with a smile. "If you believe all of them, there are at least a dozen immortal wizards out there, asleep in their secret hideaways."