Saddled and ready for the road, there was little to keep Alessandro from riding off into some misadventure or another as Leobardo might put it. Of course, he was busy yawning and preparing tea for the early morning at which he had been summoned by magic and his lord's will. Not a gripe to be heard he continued about his duties as he was up now and there was no point to be about it. This, of course, left Alessandro largely alone with his thoughts of what was to come and the careful checking of his supplies to ensure he was ready for whatever his new acquaintances at the guild might encounter.

As promised Alessandro arrived early on the morning of the seventh day at Mathias D'Angelo's compound, thoughts lingering on his final instructions to the loyal Leobardo. Lists, names, and plans trickled through his mind, searching for anything he had forgotten.

Deciding he had done all he can it was time to focus on the present. Excitement thrummed through the theurge as entered the facility, men and animals readying itself for the long sojourn. Dismounting he ties the reins of his horse and pack pony off next to the string of other animals and goes in search of either the expedition leader or the one called Amelia.

The bellowing Mathias could be heard above the clamor as porters, adventurers, and other hands in the expedition darted about their appointed tasks. Other task masters could be heard but most were drowned out beneath the organized chaos. A woman's voice could be heard just above the din, however, shouting orders and imprecations against how some of the adventurers had armed and prepared themselves. The sheer volume of both, however, made it easy track them both down in the madness.

The theurge winds his way through the chaos of the assembling expedition, drawn to Matthias' bellowing like a lodestone to magnetic north. He is bemused at the size of the undertaking. He had expected something a little smaller and more agile than this huge company of people. But there was safety and comfort in numbers too.

Eventually he sights the old caravaneer through the crowd and raises his hand in greeting, "Master Mathias! Good morning!"

"Alessandro! Just in time and ready to go I hope?" the large man declared in his boisterous manner, his own attire decided martial and evidently the full extent of his combat attire. It said all it needed to about his expectations of trouble upon the expedition and a hope for anything but. He had much to return to, after all. He gestured with a hand to the gathering caravan and the garish colours that came with it as a result. Beneath the chaos, there was an evident order to it all that made it all have that distinct hint of the professional despite the madness it might represent to an untrained observer.

"I am! I just need to find my assigned minder in this chaos!,"jokes da Vigo as he turns his head looking for Amelia.

It was a pleasure to see the man operate. Alessandro's own House had specialized in overland routes deep into the interior of Arcem and his father had made sure he knew the ins and outs. A number of faces were recognizable from the time before misfortune took Alessandro's House. Some were friendly, some not, but all were intent on their jobs and that was fine with Alessandro.

"Anything you want me to know before we head out?"
This message was last edited by the player at 00:52, Mon 09 July 2018.

Chaos was a good word for it as it continued to spiral outward with the last of the preparations. The order becoming just a little more evident as every man found time to idle now or the final check lists were nothing more than reviewing a manifest of one kind or securing a tie of another. The voices of the officers becoming a little more apparent as final orders were issued and the voice of a woman just a little more prominent and catching Alessandro's eye. Light haired, feral eyed, and clad in the fitted plate of a seasoned campaigner; she stood out from the rest. The length of steel at her hip, a broad longsword with just a hint more agility than the meat cleaver that Mathias' called a sword.

"Ha! You'll find her, boy. She ain't hard to spot." Mathias said with a clap of a meat hand on Alessandro's shoulder and another gesturing out towards the armored woman standing upon the crates to guide the flow of work.

"As to keeping anything in mind, you're a smart enough looking lad for someone out of your master's academy. I imagine you took the time to study a bit on where we're heading? Only other thing I ought to say to keep in mind is just keeping your steel close at hand and sleeping a little lightly. We've been happened upon before in the night and survived as everyone was quick to scramble."

"Onam xovlilar, usta Mattias. U menga o'z xalqining urf-odatlari va tarixida yaxshi o'rgatgan edi. [My mother is of the Howlers, Master Matthias. She taught me well in the customs and history of her people.]" , replies Alessandro in fluent Palagic, accent distinctly of his mother's tribe, as he answered Matthias' question about his knowledge of the Howler Lands. "U qizil chiziq klanidan edi, u bizning mo'ljallangan yo'nalishimiz bo'ylab harakat qilishni xohlaydi. Ehtimol, ularga aytishim kerak bo'lgan biror narsa bor. [She was of the Red Stripe Clan which tends to rove along our intended route. I will probably have something useful to say to them.]"

He grins,"And my family made its fortune running caravans through these lands for decades. You won't have to worry too much about me. Father didn't neglect teaching me."

Alessandro is willing to take his place as perhaps the most junior, untested member of Matthias' caravan but there should be no doubt that he was qualified. Nevermind the other capabilities he was bringing to the caravan. That said Alessandro wasn't interested in usurping Matthias or playing the know-it-all. That would be counterproductive and take him away from more interesting things they would find on the trip.

Mathias let out a booming laugh in response to that with another slap upon the shoulder that would have threatened to knock a lesser man to the ground. A fact that showed the boisterous man's respect for the younger if only because he expected him to weather the blow.

"A better handle of it than I'll ever have lad. I sound as drunk as the sailors at the river side whenever I try to talk it! Now off with ya, fall in with Amelia's team and we'll see how the journey suits ya, experience or no! Just keep the sheaths oiled and listen to the firehead there and there shouldn't be a damned thing to worry about!" he added with another gesture over to the plate clad woman who continued to bellow with the passion of a true and aggrieved commander.

As Alessandro fell into step with the others, he could feel the intensity of the woman's stare as she removed the helmet from her head and glared at this new piece in the otherwise smooth running of her machine, her command. Her hair was tangled and tinged by a fire's hue that seemed, for the most part, a natural colour save for a shock of dye here and there leading to a deeper, coppery hue. Those feral eyes stood out though and something in her stance reminded him of his own style but adapted to a single, heavier steel instead. A variant then to allow for armour and weapons suited to war over dueling.

"You the one the book keeper nudged our way? She's still got eyes for proper talent at least!"

Alessandro's eyebrows climb to his hairline at the unexpected recognition. It felt good to be taken seriously in spite of his youth, Howler heritage, or the near dissolution of the da Vigo House. Granted it was a litany that was unlikely to inspire confidence in his fellow countrymen.

Courtesy trained bone-deep into the young nobleman took over as he returned a polite smile and bow. Matthias had neglected to give the woman a title and the expedition was more a collection of adventurers then a true caravan. He chose a default.

"Good morning, Madame Amelia! I will give you no cause to regret including me in your troupe." , replies Alessandro. "You can put me where you need too. I'm not unfamiliar with life in a caravan."

He pauses before inquiring, "You move like one trained at the Coltello affilato School?"

"Good, no one gets a free ride even with a recommendation." Amelia replied with a hint of a lopsided grin as she rolled her shoulder with the subtle creaks and clatter of mail and plate. One wondered if she wouldn't cook alive in that campaigner's plate but it seemed she was made for it and that it didn't bother her in the least. Alessandro was canny and experienced enough to know that there was more than one soldier or mercenary who was happy enough to sleep in their armour.

"I've danced with the men of that school but most of my talent with a blade was forged in the drill yards of the army." She offered with a laugh and a sweep of foot towards her rear in an adopting of the traditional posture. Elements of foreign styles and other such details evident in her posture to a trained eye.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:56, Wed 18 July 2018.

Alessandro eyes the woman's forms with admiration. The various additions shaped the traditional fighting techniques into something different but not alien from what he was used too. While she lacked the elegance of a true master there was no doubt she would prove a worthy sparring partner or a deadly opponent. "Well...I see you are no slouch. You have a fine form."

His horse nickers and nudges his arm as he falls into line with the rest of the adventuerers,"This pushy beast is Marengo." he says affectionately, feeding the monster a sugar cube.

The woman's eyebrows quirked up with a lopsided grin in response to the compliment and it's double meanings but otherwise made nothing of it for the moment. Her posture relaxed regardless as she spared a glance towards Marengo with a tilt of head and a contemplative expression.

"Pushy isn't always a bad thing, my own Natasha was always been fond of demanding with bites and headbutts rather than asking or waiting to be offered. I'd rather fire in a hear than anything else if something goes crossways." Amelia offered with a grin as she gestured with one armored hand towards a black charger that lingered off to the side. The animal seeming almost preternaturally surly as it glanced back in response to it's name and whinnied with annoyance.

"Anyway, we'll be riding out shortly and you'll be staying close to me for the time being. We'll be riding a few leagues ahead to ensure a clear path but keeping close enough to round back if the caravan finds itself in any trouble. Mathias can probably beat his way out of it with that club of a sword of his but sometimes, he needs a softer touch to sort things out."

Alessandro's eyes widen a bit at the unexpected assignment. While he had no qualms about being part of the scouting contingent it was surprising that a asset like a theurge would be sent out of the main body. Well...when in Patria do as the Patrians do...

"Natasha has fine lines", he replies with a appreciative smile and to cover his own consternation. It passed quickly as he considered his place.

"I'm a decent enough horseman but I think I'll be getting out that salve my man Leobardo insist I take. He's a wily old campaigner for these kinds of outings. Glad I listened since we are going to be putting on a lot of miles.", he jokes as he listens to Amelia. "I'm versed in Pelagic if need a translator."       

"She's also fond of biting. The plate's as much for safety as practicality with a demon like that as my travelling companion." Amelia replied with a laugh at both the compliment paid her horse and the consternation she had seemed to thrust upon Alessandro. It had the ring of that distinct balance between good natured and just the right side of adversarial.

"It'd be helpful. I have a handle on a few classical languages but the tribal variants of Pelagic in the area have escaped me. Your man gives good advise though on that front. We won't be riding too hard, gods willing, but we'll be riding long to get to the prize of Mathias' eyes and the desire of his investors." she offered with a gesture to follow her as she made her way towards her own horse and the gathering of her belongings and travel goods that sat beside the saddle and girding for Natasha.

Marengo eagerly greets Natasha in his horsy fashion as Alessandro falls in beside Amelia. It was good to finally be on the move again and away from Chieri. As much as he loved the city it had become prison of sorts over the last year. He needed some time away.

He laughs at the mention of their goal, "I'm invested in making sure Mathias reaches our goal as well. I am very hopeful there will be some interesting arcana to be found. Magic has always been a passion of mine."

[We can push it forward!]

The first steps of any caravan's journey were always times of immense chaos but Mathias' company seemed to have a solid grasp upon the ephemeral details of it to keep everything flowing forward with an orderly, stately quality. The only real incident being a brief shouting match between the stout man and another caravan trying to enter the city via the same gate over right of way. The gesticulations, raising of voices, and the sudden tension of the two young gate guards on duty at that hour all giving the impression of action before they had even left the city... and then the two clapped each other on the back and the matter seemed to be sorted in that lively way of the people of Vissio without steel or blood.

It led into a few days of idle travel as the landscape slowly transitioned from the rolling and lush hill and mountain sides into the familiar flatness of the Red Dust plains. The pleasant warmth of a mid summer in Vissio falling away to the harsher climates that made the savannah and it's various denizen's way of life possible.

Through it all the vanguard of the caravan proved amicable company with an almost egalitarian bent but that, as much as anything, may have been due to the presence of Amelia who seemed comfortable with anyone that could carry their weight. Her horse, Natasha, seeming ill tempered in the extreme as they road along and nipping at anything that threatened to get close that wasn't another horse; living up to it's demonic reputation. As expected, much of the conversation was the off colour and vivacious chatter of professional soldiery and adventures with camp fire talk of past exploits and good natured probing, ribbing, and revisionist retellings of past events.

Alessandro does his assigned duties with good will and verve. The tour through the Vissian countryside for the first couple of days is nearly a holiday as the expedition moves along the roads through idyllic country scenes of vineyards and farms. Marengo absolutely loves the new freedoms afforded him in his horsey way, racing and nipping in dominance disputes with the other horses, or just outpacing all contenders. Alessandro is beginning to think Marengo is the one in charge here.

Alessandro doesn't talk as much to the men but when its discovered that he is an able artist with a pencil they beg him to draw them one by one, serious or comical poses. More than a few have sketches tucked away in saddle bags they will bring home to spouses or just as mementos.

As the scenery turns sere and dry that Alessandro becomes more intent on the surroundings. The aura of an ancient magical catastrophe seemed to lie heavy over the former Former Empire lands. Ancient stone peeking up therough the dust draw Alessandro's attentions, as well as the signs of tribal territories.

With a deft hand Alessandro draws the monuments, markers, and scenery in his chapbook. He is looking for patterns and words that speak to him about those long gone days while curiosity compels him to be at every meeting with his mother's people, asking questions and drawing conclusions.

The only horse that the bullish Marengo seemed unable to dispute with remained Natasha. The black charger forever living up to her, deserved, reputation as a demon in the flesh of the horse. Harder, faster, and of seemingly a foul disposition until she was at the head of the pack... It didn't seem so much that Amelia road her as Natasha took Amelia for a ride. It didn't stop the seemingly impervious woman from laughing in delight though at these rebellions and simply pressing herself into the saddle. The freedom of the road a potent drug, it seemed, for every one of their number as they all had wanderlust worked deep into their souls.

They weren't the ruins they were looking for but the long winding imperial roads and the flag markers at each intersection, slowly claimed by grass and weed, gave a fine sense of their course and pacing. A few marks, of course, stood out as particularly interesting and far more resent declaring the ever shifting domain and territories of the howler tribes active in the region. The familiar dust clouds of their coming and going absent but one mark stood out just a little more than the others; bearing a certain stylistic familiarity to the personal seals of Alessandro's mother.

It was only as the sun set that the forward brigade settled to make camp. The rest of the caravan close enough to be seen and aided in the moment and the smoke of their cook fires twisting idly into the air as the golds and reds of a setting sun stained the sky.

The busy work of setting camp seemed to dampen the carefree spirits of the guildsmen as they were forced to contend with the mundane. Their horses, meanwhile, seemed happy for the break in the ride. The familiar sounds of Amelia's barked orders and a cursing fit as she was head butted by Natasha. With everyone set to task, it left Alessandro to his devices; either more drawing for some of the characters of the company such as Amelia, Leon, or Casca or to explore their surroundings just a little more. A network of caves, after all, had been worked into a hill they passed and there was no doubt trinkets and artifacts of bygone wonders to be found in the field as souvenir.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:57, Sat 11 Aug 2018.

Marengo's frustrated antics around Amelia's Natasha brought a smile to Alessandro's face even as he sketched the horses in their temporary corral. Charcoal drawings were one of the best way to pass the time on the trip as well as a useful scholastic exercise when recording the bizarre tribal markings or the ornate writings of the Howler ancestors. But it was the markings of his mother's tribe that was particularly inspiring and several illustrations of it from various angles graced the pages of his book.

There were advantages to Alessandro's enhanced metabolism as the cooking fires were started. The thought of another meal of hard tack and dried meat was particularly unappetizing so Alessandro decided not to waste his time. He simply didn't need to worry about such mundane things and there were better uses to put the remaining daylight.

In an opportune moment he waves Amelia down. He dutifully says, "I'm going to be heading over to investigate those ruins on the hilltop! I may be gone for a while!"

Once his own horse and camp are squared away Alessandro shoulders his bag, snatches up a few torches, and takes a brisk walk up the hill to the caves, senses sharp as he surveys the area.

[Perfection of Understanding allows recognition of any theurgy worked in his presence, if it matters.]

Amelia spared a glance towards Alessandro with a somewhat surprised expression that implied a certain doubt about the wisdom of such a course but with nothing amiss and it hardly Alessandro's opportunity for watch, she offered her blessings in cheeky enough fashion. There wasn't a hint of disrespect, merely the expectation that men signing on with their outfit could look after themselves.

"Just try and be back for dinner, I don't fancy chasing after wayward child tonight."

With nothing else to say for the time being, she turned back to the tending of the campaign and the keeping of a relative order in guard rotations and who was in charge of passing out rations.

The journey to the hill and caves beneath it was, unsurprisingly, a placid one. The subtle hints of time worn stone and fabric could be found among the tall grasses. A hint of the past. The mouth to the caverns, themselves, showed a hint of what had once been doors; rotted away or broken down under the passage of time and the misfortune that such can bring. The air flowing from it still and tinged by the distinct tang of dust and mold born of disuse and perhaps some unseen source of water. There was something like foreboding that hung about the place as if it was a scene of tragedy or merely the resting place of honoured dead.

Akos excitement grows but is checked by the discipline of a scholar. As he moves up the hill he carefully sketches the surroundings and the placement of scraps. Alessandros is attentive, looking for clues as to the makers of this place and if it had seen other visitors over the years.

The Former Empire that had once ruled these lands had been fanatical in its use of word magics, inscribing everything with their mystical glyphs. Perhaps he would find some secret of theurgy in the ruins. A slender chance at any rate.

At the cave Alessandros lit his lantern and studied the entrance and the broken doors. The hint of water was interesting and would be valuable to the tribes of these wastes if superstition didn't bar them from entering. He is careful to look for tribal markings or warnings as he procedes deeper into the cavern.

There were many there referring to the place as cursed or otherwise a resting place for unquiet ancestors from times before the great shattering of the spheres and machines that supported them. All in the diverging scripts of the current Howler tribes. The smell of clean water, however, was unmistakable as Alessandro moved a little farther in. The warnings of the Howlers were unclear as to just what lingered there but it was along a great and faded arch way that he found reason to stop himself for just a moment.

It was that flicker of intuition and sensation that every theurge had from the working of sorcery and reality. A feeling that the gears had been shifted and tweaked and as he looked closer the spiraling script of the old peoples of this place could be seen. A barrier, of sorts, had been enacted. One that didn't keep others out but something contained within. That sense of foreboding about the place only reinforced by the thought. The words weren't specific but it, again, seemed a precaution against the unquiet dead worked into the very stones of the mound.

Alessandro grins like a fool at being in the presence of the old people's workings, and not just reading about it in his books. The Old People. Ancestors of the Howlers. HIS ancestors. It made one a bit humble.

Not for long. Alessandro steps forward with his palm outstretched and crosses the arcane barrier into the chamber beyond. He raises his lantern and eagerly looks about at the cave.

It was, perhaps, less a cave in it's conception than a proper excavation. It's walls hewn and cut from living stone with the deliberate airs of the craftsman's hand... Only to be worn away by weather and water it seemed. The air past the barrier, however, remained stale and still save for that hint of disconcerting moisture that lingered. The faintest tang of something else like spice or salt lingering.

The room itself bore the signs and appearances of something like a mausoleum with alcoves cared into the stone and small, spherical censers set into the walls on each column. The hints of past finery and etchings in the stone worn away by time as all things are. Inside those alcoves remained an assortment of belongings; some the crude leathers and weapons of the raiders while others appeared to be things far more sophisticated in their artistry and adornment. It was these latter items that seemed original pieces of the tomb while the crude leathers and weapons bore out an impression of something newer and recently laid out here. A fact further attested to by the hints of struggle and violence etched into the stone floor around the room and drawing the eye to a spiraling stair case going yet deeper.

Alessandro squats next to the newer relics, Howler adventurers perhaps. The fact they had been laid out in this Former Empire mortuary like those of its original inhabitants was curious.

He extends a fingertip to caress one of the broken weapons and concentrates. Soon a vision of the past begins to play out...

[Using Echoes of the Past to observe what happened and how it ended up here.]

Perception distorted, as it always did, when Alessandro reached out through the endless flow of the river of time. A task that became more difficult with the slow fracturing of the celestial engines and the natural laws that bound existence as he understood it. The men, howlers, clad in the leather of skinned beasts and bearing weapons of steel as likely as not stolen upon one raid or another advanced cautiously. Some, already spooked, more cautious than others as they spoke of ill omens and the scent of something unnatural in the stillness of the air.

Quiet and still, they moved with the intent of finding the scent of water that their diviners had pointed them towards. Several stopping to look over the trappings and finery left behind by the ancients with avarice clear and bright in their dark colored eyes. It was simultaneously as one approached the spiraling stairs and disturbed the bodies of the honoured dead that a shrill, thready screech tore apart the air with such force as to even warp and twist the divine magic by which the Godbound watched the events that unfolded. The man nearest the stairs fell to his knees and ceased to move whilst the others, shaken and rattled readied their weapons and watch as something black and quick as shadow roiled up.

The scene that followed as madness as much as anything else with only glimpses of a pale thing drawing men into the darkness and taking the life from them. It was a dire warning, in it's own right, for how unprepared a mortal might be for what might lurk in dark places. With the last man falling as nothing more than shriveled remains, the thing, still shrouded in shadow and time worn clothe, set about laying them to rest in the free alcoves. The habit confusing and seemingly obsessive. Each corpse arranged with belongings and possession, it retreated with that same swiftness and what might have sounded like sobs. It's form vanishing over the lip but revealing a length of spear etched with the same words and magic of the Ancestors plunged through it's form.

Withdrawing his finger Alessandro dropped his hand to the hilt of his blade, his torch held high as he examined the room again. An illuminating vision even if it brought no comfort. No doubt the thing still lurked below.

Logic told Alessandro that it was time to withdraw but his heart was drawn ever deeper into the mysteries of this place. Besides...his power should see him through anything he encounters here!

Shouldn't it?

Gathering his courage Alessandro descends the stairs.

The stairs spiraled downward into darkness with only a hint of gentle luminescence from scrawling word scripts etched above the steps at even intervals all the way down. The darkness promised hardly a comfort for the knowledge of whatever it was that might lurk in the depths of the burial mound. The air retained the scent of water, fresh and running, along side decades and centuries old funerary spices that somehow remained to burn at the nose despite the passage of time. The stillness of the air now almost oppressive with the awareness and tension Alessandro was forced to by his vision.

The steps beneath his feet, fortunately, bore no hint of trap or greater malevolence than the simple wearing of stone with the passage of feet and time. As he descended, however, scraps of fabric could be seen caught on the railing at one particular landing. It seemed like rotted silk at a first glance but upon close inspection it was merely torn and stained; any scent it might have given off long fled as it stained to brown. Another hint of what lurked beyond.

It was hardly a surprise then as he exited the narrow confines of the stairs to see more of the spiraling stairs... Still wrought of stone but now free standing and supported, no doubt, by yet more of the etched word magic of the ancestors into cavernous chamber with gentle glint of yet more somber illumination. The familiar alcoves lining the walls and stone lids at even intervals across the floor. A great crack in the wall seeping with water enough for, perhaps, a foot to pool upon the whole of the floor and move towards yet further depths in a gentle current that prevented it from growing tepid or filthy.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:39, Thu 23 Aug 2018.

da Vigo studies the room in the light of his lantern, pitching it this way and that to get as clear a view as possible. The floating stairs were a wonder but the dark waters below promised hidden dangers.

With a slight gesture of the fingers a thick stone plug fills the 'upstream' crack neatly and dams any further in-flow. Another gesture widens the 'downstream' crack and quickens the out-flow of water until only puddles remain.

Alessandro peers warily at the newly exposed floor as he braces for an attack.

[Using Builder of Mountain Peaks to dam the incoming flow and dry out the chamber.]

The water, perhaps thankfully, had done little to truly distort the perceptions of what lay below. The rows of raised sarcophagi rising perhaps, at most, a few inches above the stone floor and glistening wetly in the light of glow words and lantern to indicate forging rather than carving; the characteristic reliefs of the faces of the departed staring up peacefully and their resting place lined in warding words and well wishes against what may come in the afterlife. The side alcoves were not dissimilar but in these the belongs and armours of the ancestor once again rested in state. Rendered, after a fashion, pristine by the preservative magics of the place but otherwise worn away by those things that no magic could hold back forever.

It remained, however, pointedly and worryingly still and silent. The shadows seeming to only move and twitch with the dance of lantern's flame. Keen eyes, however, could note in the distance near one of the cracks heavy door forced wide open and a greater darkness and the sound of... something stirring faintly from within.

Alessandro spies the elusive shadow in the room beyond. Raising the lantern more he calls out, "Come out. I don't wish to fight you. I want to talk."

Perhaps the thing was capable of more than just mindless mayhem. They would soon find out.

What emerged might have once been generously referred to as human but the ravages of time and undeath seemed to have done it no favors. It's eyes were hallow pits seeming to consume any light that touched them whilst the wisps of dark clothe clung to it like smoke and shadow. The features of it's face obscured save for those eyes darker than it's surroundings. It's form hunched by something that appeared like the body of another and held in place by the rune etched spear that still glowed with white light in the darkness and defied the darkness that shrouded it.

That it comprehended Alessandro's words remained a mystery as it stood there, head turning and that same gentle sound not unlike sobbing escaped it. Even at this distance, however, the sound seemed to stab uncomfortably at the ear drums and clasped at the heart. It's motions seeming as burdened by pain as it staggered just a little more forward. Far slower than the impressions given by the visions conjured by Alessandro's divinity... It's motions, however, giving glimpses of the limbs beneath the darkness; pale and seemingly no more substantial than the darkness that surrounded it.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:32, Sun 26 Aug 2018.

Alessandro waits momentarily before deciding to descend to meet the miserable beast half way across the now dry floor. He keeps his hands clear of the weapons at his hip -- a mild enough concession when you didn't need physical weaponry.

He stops at the midway point and waits patiently for the undead to approach. "Can you talk? Do you understand me?"

The closer Alessandro came to the creature, the greater the pain in ears and mind grew from the piercing quality of it's voice. The shifting, twisting shadows that shrouded it's form seeming as much clothe as actual darkness and seemed to be, as much as anything else, a literal metaphysical separation between it and the world around it. Glimmer's of it's face revealed a worn and miserable expression beneath the hollow eyes and made it clear enough that it was a woman of some middling age.

Of course, now that he had addressed it explicitly, the snapping of it's head was enough to send an unpleasant crick down his own as those hollow eye settled on him. It seemed to comprehend but any noise that came out from it seemed both shrill and washed out as it cradled itself and whatever strange burden was held to it's back by the length of obsidian and word etched spear. It's head silver in hue and tarnished only by blood dark as tar.

Alessandro puzzles out the dimensional affliction laid upon the undead woman who radiated misery. The original enchantments containing the she-thing had been of low magic construction. Perhaps he could resolve it as such.

With a gesture Alessandro draws upon his mastery of the sorcerous arts to dispel the enchantment.

[Commit Effort to dispel any low magic working around her.]

To the skilled eye, it seemed as much part of her animating force as something other beyond the ethereal form of the creature. Regardless, the effort to dispel it was met with a moment's resistance before the world seemed to splinter and crack in the shadows that surrounded the creature. It's voice shrill and just that much more audible; burning into the brain as her head snapped to regard Alessandro with the fullest attention.

The shadows banished and form restored to something approaching solidity, it was hard not to notice the ragged state of what no doubt had once been rich silks or the ragged wound torn through back and chest by the word etched spear... More disturbing, however, was the literal hollows and almost vacant stare that lingered in those vacated sockets... The darkness pooling in them as mumbled words and stiffed sobs escaped the creature seemingly on the brink of howling. The roving eye revealed another detail, however, the small form of something vaguely humanoid impaled upon that same spear and stuck fast to the creature's back. Still and unmoving.

Her mouth stretched open for a moment in silence then before she shrieked. The sound stabbing into the brain but divine might and fortitude leaving only bleeding ears where others might have suffered death.

The thing's agony is apparent and the 'assault' was merely a side effect. Pity welled in Alessandro's heart at the same time as revulsion at her unnatural state and the danger she posed forced a logical conclusion.

Eyes sorrowful he says, "I'm sorry."

With a gesture the banshee feels the crushing weight of infinity drag down even its unnatural frame as the magics holding it together begin to fray from age.

[Two attacks, one hit for 1 hd of damage.]

The sound grew all the more painful to Alessandro's ears as the undead thing suffered just that much more pain. Confusion showing in it's features and ichor seeming to weep from it's empty eyes. It's jaw twisted as it's keening grew, grew, and grew and now it was truly stabbing it's way into Alessandro's brain as stone quaked, buckled, and shattered around the screeching thing as it clutched at the wounds inflicted upon it. A terrible sort of clarity now apparent in it's eyes that stunk of both a mortal sort of fear and the once impotent anger of one perhaps too used to being hurt now.

The ugly bundle of something upon it's back twitching in something like sympathy for the banshee that now seemed fixated in it's hatred of Alessandro and her regard of him as one more tormentor.

OOC: 1 damage suffered on your part.

Steeling himself vs the thing's tormented regard and piercing wail Alessandro drove in with a purpose. It was time to end this thing's pained existence.

[Promptly miss twice.]

The Banshee seemed both there and not as the Alessandro's blades flicked left than right, seeking to end the undead creature's seeming perpetual agony. Each passing through the stuff of shadow that seemed to make up her form and slowly crept back into place in the face of his divine ministrations. Her voice was not so loud now, however, but it still drilled into the ear and brain. Black tears continued to poor from empty eyes and her wails continued to echo off the whole of the tomb. Stone creaking in protest with each reverberation of her dreadful cry.

Pale arms lashed out with fingers braced in rigid, dirty claws to dig deeply of his flesh only to be turned aside by a last minute side step and hard shove with one blade. The pitiable creature staggering away and leaving space between them. Her eyes, empty and shadowed, continued to watch him with that mixture of pain, grief, and hatred now for it's attacks upon it. The strangle bundle on it's back still moving in sympathy with the maimed and impaled creature.

It seemed... reluctant now, however.


21:11, Today: Fate rolled 12 using 1d20+8.  Attack.

Time-driven blades leaped to force back the darkness of the banshee, leaving trailing goo and bone in its wake.

[hit once for 2HD of damage.]

It started as a low sound. Little more than a growl in the Banshee's throat as it was wounded again. It's wounds bleeding with the stuff of shadow and rotted ephemera... It seemed all the more pitiful for it until it's voice rose and rose in power again. It's head throwing back and the glint of the spirit stabbed through it seeming to glow with a further baleful energy. Whether borrowed from the Banshee or simply with an energy all it's own... The sound still slammed with the force of a horse's hooves into the brain. Thought scattering in a wave of persistent ringing and a bone deep and bleak despair.

It didn't want to die, it needed more, it needed to do something... bring something back and that much was evident in the inarticulate screech that now assaulted the Godbound... Only made worse by the sounds of splintering stone from all around and what seemed like the hiss of water once more steeling into the chamber. It was clear enough the stone could not endure much more of the Banshee's excited state.

All the same the Banshee seemed to shrink back again, refusing to remain close if it might be helped... The shadows still bleeding from open wounds and that vaguely human bundle squirming once more upon it's burdened back.


18:30, Today: Fate rolled 9 using 1d8+1.  Screech.

Alessandro's response is equally brutal as he winces at the ear shattering scream. Time erodes the thing at a horrifying rate.

[Time attack for 2 more hd of damage.]

The spear seemed to glow all the brighter as that keening grew louder and louder as stone continued to fracture and buckle around the creature. Black and rotted blood roiled and sizzled around the spear embedded in it's flesh and that unsettling bundle upon it's back continued to squirm and move in pained sympathy for the being it burdened. This was different, however, from what Alessandro had seen thus far of the creature and the sudden force of something tearing deeply at his essence could be felt in the instant.

The screeching of the Banshee threatening greater harm than just to rupture his ear drums and rattle his brain. It was the famed screech of the beast. The one that stole life and will in an instant. The stone around them, all the while, fractured and broken reveling long rotted bones beneath that rattled from the cacophony of the beast... and in some cases seemed to threaten with animating force all their own.

Banshee's using Reaping word. Roll hardiness to resist.

Whatever the banshee had hoped to accomplish amounts to nothing as his divine fortitude brushes aside the wail's damage.

Alessandro gestures and his own reply is lost in the undead things rotted frame.

[1 Effort to resist and two missed attacks.]

The Banshee seemed stunned and still keening in pain as the faint sizzle of flesh could be heard as the spear's glow grew and grew. It's hollow, dark eyes fearful now as it's keening continued to crack and splinter stone around it. It's head swinging this way and that as if something was coming or confusion had claimed that hateful focus it had mustered a moment before. The burden upon it's back still twisting and seeming to cry in sympathy with the Banshee that bore it's weight.

The Banshee stilled suddenly then, eyes fix on a point deeper into the tomb before releasing another piercing shriek and, for want of a better term, exploding into darkness and vanishing from sight once more. The spear's light, the Banshee, her burden, and any semblance of her presence save for cracked and splintered stone vanishing along with her.

Alessandro is content to let the banshee retreat. It had proven an unexpectedly tough opponent able to stand up to Alessandro's unmatched skills and given as good as it got. The rake sheaths his blades and tends his wounds while glancing about the chamber. Whatever that woman's sad story he was here for a reason and it wasn't to hold the undead woman's hand.

Hoisting his lantern again Alessandro takes notes and drawings of the various tombs, looking for frescoes that tell the story of the place as well as any interesting items or tidbits. Perhaps there was magic here as well or tomes of evocations.

The whole of the tomb seemed to grow a fraction's brighter in the absence of the miserable creature that seemed it's sole and chief denizen. That alone allowed the inheritor of the Words of Creation to see just that much more. The rows of raised stones clearly the resting place of a veritable legion of ancestors. Each etched with names and deeds in the ancient tongue of the Howler's past greatness. Relics aplenty seemed to lie in the alcoves carved into the walls that stretch along the outer edge of the tomb and some yawned open like door ways into greater depths suggesting something beyond simply a tomb and perhaps a proper necropolis.

One passage, however, stood out as it's edges were rimmed with a dozen marks burrowed into the stone as if something had worked fingers deep into the stone to propel themselves forward. The scraps of clothe and lingering shadow putting the mystery to rest as Alessandro deduce that through that passage laid nothing short of whatever chamber might have held the Banshee's lair or even her mortal remains... along side whatever treasures or clues to the tragedy of her past that might have given rise to her current state.

Alessandro spends a good hour or more roughly cataloging the lay-out and areas of interest in the old tomb and carefully checking the old relics among the remains. He tried to put names to bodies and other things but recognized there was far more than he could do in a single night.

The relics were carefully laid back in their positions unless they had a specific value of their own, either magic or lore.

At this point Alessandro decides to expand his senses into the earth. His eyes pierce soil and stone as if they were nothing but air as he mapss out the rest of the complex and any potential dangers in its shadows.

[1 Effort for a miracle of Jewel Bright Eyes to span the complex with his vision.]

Expanded awareness was a confusing experience in those first moments as things came into focus but with it also came enlightenment after a fashion. The whole of the necropolis seemed to branch out along four paths set in the cardinal directions. Each laden with more bones of the ancestors, treasures, and what seemed to be further wards against decay and intruders of both the mystical and physical sorts. A curious notion of walls etched with many words dominating the end of each path. Of course, one seemed dominated by a particular darkness and ruin that made it clear as to which set of tombs served as the banshee's layer... the impression of some semblance of her form and that spear lingering there but once more made hazy and indistinct by the ethereal properties possessed by the creature.

Letting his inherent sense of romance guide his curiosity Alessandro let himself be drawn the Southern way toward the treasures he had sighted and the wall of words written in the far back. Who knew what knowledge or artifacts lay in these tunnels?

The southern portal was as dark as the others with only the subtle glow of light giving enchantments that had endured since the sundering of the worlds and natural laws. It was lined in kind with yet more of the alcoves holding the bones and relics of the ancestors but there was the sudden hint of magic in the air here and that alone excited the curiosities of the young Godbound in his hunt for treasures worth keeping... Magic, after all, meant things beyond the typical bounds of mortal ken. The banshee, all the while, remained curiously absent though the suspicion that this was of fear of this intruder into it's lair certainly seemed to hold weight as he continued his explorations... Various small items and trinkets now giving off that same sensation of enchantment. Some deliberate and others simply because of a lingering saturation.

Alessandro decided this particular tunnel would have to do for tonight. Drawing forth his books and pencils he began to lay out the tombs measurements and layout with a trained precision. Within the hour he had traced entire passages of the word wall before finally settling on a random selection of the magical trinkets, the most powerful, for later examination. Once done he conjures what could be described as a stony wheelbarrow with many precise little holes for objects and carefully placed them in the niches. Knowing it grows late Alessandro gestures and punches a hole through the earth straight to the surface as the wheel barrow turns its own stone wheel to climb the gradual slope. With a satisfied smile Alessandro follows while neatly sealing the stone behind him all the way to the outside air.

Done for now with the tomb he and his ambulatory stone wheelbarrow return to the encampment and his tent.

The night passed with little event beyond a few strange dreams born of the feeling of being watched or considered from affair. The twisting of the subconscious conjuring up unpleasant memories of the Banshee that didn't happen from a factual perspective; flickers of indistinct shapes and places familiar yet distinctly alien and ancient in their cast, make, and the laws that they adhered to. All seeming to lead to the conclusion that such was a vision of the past through the fragmented lens of... something. The answer ultimately eluding the Godbound as he rose to the clatter of camp and the almost jovial shouting of both Mathias and Amelia cajoling tired men into the wakefulness that should be had as they greet the literal dawn.

Alessandro wakes promptly even before the camp begins to truly stir, a small benefit of his mastery of Time. Its with enthusiasm as he prepares for the day's march, grabbing a quick breakfast with the crew and taking down his own tent. Marengo nuzzled his shoulder as he brushed down his restless steed and his eyes wandered over the wakening encampment.

Spying Amelia he gives a cheerful smile and wave as he joins them, Marengo following along hoping for an apple.

"Beautiful morning! Good day, Amelia!"

"Morning! How'd the night treat you? Different than the fluff and comfort of home, eh?" the right hand woman of Mathius quipped with a grin as she glanced up from what was apparently a rather rude awakening for one of the men within the tents. The protests from the grown man implying a certain familiarity with the consequences of not waking up to the tune and schedule of his paying masters. That same good hearted joviality that seemed to sink into the bones of most of the company's dealings on anything minor or inconsequential. Mathias, meanwhile, was keeping his own men and contingent in line with sweeping directions and a slap upon the back that Alessandro knew for a fact could stagger the stoutest of men.

An answering frown and knitted brows met Amelia's grin, "The service here is awful. No one has come to collect the wash or trim my beard!"

The faux mood breaks into a chuckle, "A good night's sleep and my gear is packed and ready for travel. I'm just getting breakfast before its all gone."

He points up to the hill and its mysteries, "That is an interesting place though. Well worth an expedition all on its own."

"I'll make the management aware of your complaints, noble master." Amelia retorted with mock gravity as she finished her work of rousing the man with a slight shove to give the man a little moment now that he was on his feet. Her head turning back to Alessandro as her demon of a steed seemed to give one of the other men a surprise else where and earned an exasperated sigh from the woman.

"He'll probably be fine. Took a look at the Mound? I know a few of the lads had heard enough of the local legends to keep away from that place. Anything interesting?" she asked curiously with an arch of brow, maybe a hint of envy at what she thought was a bit of adventure in the evening... Or something like jealousy over the plunder. Either way, it was well within that little cheerful air she seemed unable to shake loose.

Alessandro begins an enthusiastic account of his night in the crypts, from its pre-Shattering origins to its woeful but deadly inhabitant. He can't help but feel a bit of satisfaction at the mild envy in her eyes of his good fortune as he digs into one of his pouches and pulls out a figurine of copper and jade. A bird, perhaps a heron, bearing the same ancient script as the ancient tombs. He holds it up to her.

"This is an example of the things I found. There are far more tombs than I could explore in a few hours so I gathered what I could and recorded where I was able. Here...Take it. It's yours" , he gestures magnanimously as he fold the heron into Amelia's hand.

The woman took the offered bauble with a delicate hand despite the gauntlet that protected it. Her brows rising just a little higher as she looked over with the sort of curiosity one expected from a career adventurer. She slipped it with care into her satchel with an easy smile and a curt nod as if this satisfied the jealous and envy of what had to have been an adventure based on her appraisal of the statue.

"I'd rather like to get a look at those notes once you're done throwing it together. Most of the locals swear up and down the place is haunted and warded to the eyeballs."

Alessandro chuckles, "Oh...it is. Its got a guardian and a fierce one contained with in it via substantial magical wards. I fought it briefly and it decided to hide and let me go about my business in the tombs."

"Huh, got more bone to you than I gave you credit for, Da Vigo. It'll be an interesting time once we get to the ruins. Sure you didn't let this guardian out though when you managed to slip out? Or are all those wards still intact?" Amelia asked with a gauntlet clad hand rising to scratch at her cheek thoughtfully. The mind of a career soldier and adventurer clearly at work as to what might need to be done or set up to make sure there weren't any problems if that thing were loose from it's prison and duty.

Da Vigo shrugs, "It's possible that wards were damaged. I thought it was merely a cave the local Howler tribes used for their shamanic practices. I didn't expect to find the maze of catacombs from before the Shattering in its place, or the guardian."

He nods to the camp disbanding for the day's travels. "It's good that we are moving on. This place is ripe for a future expedition though."

"If we're honest, the fields are lousy with them but most aren't much more than dumping grounds now. That guardian was doing something right though if there was pieces worth claiming there. Either way, we can make a run at it after this trip is done. Books and scrolls are the prize of the day." Amelia replied with a gauntlet clad hand rubbing at her chin now and copper hair catching on the breezes that were kicking up. The concern of the guardian seemingly settled for now to be one more thing to be wary of in case it came seeking vengeance for the desecration of it's home.

"We best get you fed though and the lot of us under way. I'll let Mathias know about what ya found too."

"I guarantee it will be worth Matthias' time if he deigns to explore the catacombs" , da Vigo agrees as he turns to his own tasks.

With Marengo under his thighs Alessandro takes his usual position in the procession and turns his attention to the collected notes and artifacts, an awkward but rewarding experience on a moving horse.

The road onward, as much as one could consider it such, was little more than the seemingly endless fields of the plains. Scattered ruins, wreckage, and debris giving timeless witness and evidence to long past grandeur and civilization as the caravan trundle on ward. The various adventurers in high spirits or grumbling about the rigors of the road as they suited their disposition with Mathias' voice booming occasionally for one reason or another as the day wore on.

It was by noon that the caravan came to a halt once more though not for what one might imagine was a planned break but the evidence of fresh tracks from several somethings that indicated, perhaps, the tamed pets of the Howler tribes.

Marengo's halt in concert with the cessation of movement of the expedition brought Alessandro out of his studious reverie. Putting his sketchpad and notes away into the voluminous bag he leans out to see the head of the column in discussion. Curious he rides closer to listen and turns a curious gaze upon the signs of Howler passing.

"What do you know?" , Alessandro asks Matthias and Amelia as he scans the horizons.

Even as he asks he satisfies his own question. To his eyes the barriers of the past are sundered and the ghostly images of things that once were begin to play out as if they were right in front of him.

[Activating Echoes of the Past to observe who and what had passed by on this track previously.

Echoes of the Past           Action
Commit Effort for the scene. Choose a particular time or known
event in the past that occurred at this location and witness it as if
you were present.]
This message was last edited by the player at 05:54, Wed 02 Jan 2019.

Whatever explanation either was sharing, it was drowned out by visions of the recent past. Large beasts bearing the sum-total of the lives of their riders lumbered past. Most were of a decidedly predatory bent with pronounced jaws, forward facing eyes, and muddy, indistinct furs and hides that made it easy to blend into the plains. Their varied limbs powerful and muscled in the way that emphasized explosive force rather than anything more enduring. One or two, however, had the clear cut and jib of a beast of burden. The centers of the community and where those not tied to the warrior's way rode and watched. Regardless, it implied a tribe that was far happier to take than cultivate like some of the more 'docile' groups of howlers and their markings were, at least, passingly familiar at a glance though Alessandro would have to take some time to dissect in his analysis to give a better answer to Amelia and Mathias who, he realized, were both looking at him now.

The latter of whom with an expression that was clearly goading him for an answer.

Shaking himself free of the vision to meet the expectant eyes of his traveling companions he considered their unspoken questions. Telling would be less effective then showing.

Alessandro points to a bare patch of earth. "It is a Howler tribe on the march."

The ground shivers slightly as the bones of the earth suddenly thrust up from the bare patch. Shapeless stone seems to erode in an unseen wind forming rough, life-sized caricatures of men and animals. A moment later the stone men and animals features become defined in amazing detail. Natural pigments in the stone are coaxed forth to give lifelike hues to the tribesmen and their clothes, to the sharp horn and fangs of their beasts, to the tribal motifs inked across their hides. Fierce warriors look into the distance, women watch the children playing underfoot, old people crouch patiently with withered fingers clutching harnesses. The beasts seem to snap at each other in dominance games while plodding on through the endless grasslands.

All of it caught in a moment of time in a realistic panarama of dozens of tribesmen around a handful of beasts that could easily fool the eye into thinking they are real. The massive statues throw shadows across the company.

"Raiders and robbers. A threat if we are not careful. This is only a handful of those I saw in my vision."

He looks back expectantly back at the experienced Matthias, "I suspect you know more of this tribe?"

[Used Builder of Mountain Peaks Gift to effect the statuary.]
This message was last edited by the player at 03:38, Wed 09 Jan 2019.

The Guild Master stroked at his chin as he looked over the diagram with a small hint of something like being impressed even as his mind focused on more immediate and important matters. It was hardly surprising that he had done some research prior to this outing as to do otherwise was folly and it seemed clear enough he had a working relationship with Oriana which only further broadened what information he might have access to.

"The Hatchet Talons. You can see it on the emblem, they take after one of the raptors native to the area. Nastily short tempered and basically only maintaining anything that keeps them going as hunters and raiders. If we can help it, I'd rather avoid getting into it with them. The last time wasn't pretty but like most opportunists they're raiders and don't have the stomach for staying in the thick of it."

"These Hatchet Talons passed five and a half hours ago. A reasonably safe distance if we can avoid this band's outriders. But I don't suggest we dally" ,Alessandro advised as he studied his work. Another gesture and the statues eroded away as if they had never been. No point in leaving more evidence of their own passage then necessary.

"I might have a few tricks I can use if we do 'get into it with them'."

"Aye, best to keep us moving at this point else we're going to make a mess of things and fall behind the schedule anyway. I'll have the lads keep an eye out but we're only 2 or 3 more days from the ruins in question if we push it hard." Mathias Concluded with a gesture towards Amelia to start getting everyone in motion. Her demon of a horse seeming to understand well enough as it snorted, pawed at the dirt, and turned to depart before the woman even had a chance to react. Serious still in the moment, she laughed all the same as she caught up with it at a trot and her own voice raised to start passing along the orders.

As the convoy moves Alessandro pulls abreast of Amelia. "I think I'll scout around. I'm growing restless."

A few gestures, an invocation, and brilliant silvery wings emanate from Alessandro's shoulders. They flap experimentally as Alessandro tests the magic.

"A bird's eye view could tell us if any of the Hatchet Talons are around."

"If you look, flapping around like that may draw some attention though if they've got spotters worth a damn less you got some of that magic to make you a bit less... apparent." Amelia offered with a look of cheerful exasperation and a gesture of one armored hand towards his wings. It was clear enough she wasn't arguing against the sentiment but pointing out that it may be wise to keep to a certain distance ahead as to not give a giant point of reference for the rest of the caravan. Reasonable enough from the perspectives of career soldier and campaigner which, to be fair, was most of those who had any sort of rank or status among the guild.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 01:57, Tue 22 Jan 2019.

Alessandro grants Amelia a sheepish grin as he nods in agreement, "That...is a good point."

He peruses the wings with a quizzical tilt of the head. "I think I can fix this."

A snap of the fingers and a dust cloud forms around the wings, dulling their sheen as it plasters the flight surfaces with a light layering of dust.

"There. That should deal with any flash."

He pauses to see if Amelia has any other bits of advice.

"Plan on how you're going to signal the rest of us if you spot something? May want to keep fair ways up too. At least out of range of a recurve bow or javelins." Amelia added with a thoughtful glance and a wave of hand as if such were secondary considerations as she finally caught up with her demon of a horse and got a hands on the reins. The animal snapping at her gauntlet clad fingers for a moment before realizing that would probably do more harm to it than. "Past that, I'd probably still try and keep yourself oriented around the caravan as otherwise... Well, I think your sense of distance would get a little skewed up there but I've no flown except one I got thrown from the saddle by this best here."

Alessandro nods. The points were good though she perhaps underestimated what advantages flight could give a man over this terrain. "I can communicate well enough with Matthias or you if I have too. "

"I suppose I should put these wings to good use then. I'll be back shortly."

With those words the spell-created wings flap once and the theurge levitates above his horse. One more and he is soaring high above the expedition, his shadow like that of a malformed hawk upon the waving grasses. The exhiliarting feel of freedom is enough to have Alessandro circle and swoop before rising high into the sky and wing his way down the track of the Howler tribe.

Flight was an interesting sensation to Alessandro as he rose into the Heavens as if some emissary of the Creator and saw the flat lands and hills spread out as far as his eyes could see and beyond. Yet it was also a strangely upsetting sensation as those aspects of himself most intimately aligned with the solidity and reliability of the earth turned in his stomach and desired no more than to once more have the very earth beneath his feet once more. Fortunately, that was no more difficult to ignore than the rumbling of the stomach when become only mildly peckish and so the Godbound soared onward.

Mind giving me a perception check of sorts? Say wisdom + Applicable fact and a +2 for the vantage point

13:21, Today: Alessandro da Vigo rolled 17 using 1d20+6 ((11)).

Alessandro beat the Wisdom check by 12 points.


Alessandro considered the mild reaction he had to leaving the earth but waves it away. The exhilaration of exercising his sorcerous power was more than enough compensation as he winged his way across the plains. If you could call it 'winging' as the magic constructs disguised as wings barely flapped at all.

Putting away his excitement Alessandro turned to the task at hand. The heights made seeing the dust cloud of a passing train of Howlers or the disturbances in the grass easy enough to spot.

And it did just that.

The great blooms of dust and trampled grass of one of those trains could be glimpsed perhaps a few hours at most away from the caravan. A hard ride if they aimed to strike but one that was do able if they felt confident enough to halt the march for a time to allow the beasts to recover after the fact. It would take time regardless though and even more as the direction of the dust made it seem as though they were heading away or circling along the old hunting paths.

Alessandro raised the small device to his eye as he circled even higher to get a good view. An elaborately carved glass and brass tube extended from his eye to pull the image of the moving tribe close. He scans along its length, counting numbers and noting other details as he flies high above. If they were excited about a possible raid it would be obvious in their movements.