Nearly every route leading to Canthus is barren, dangerous, or both.  Those arriving from the east withstand hardpan and scrub and a dry wind that scours the skin off as it drives the drit.

Those from the west must cross the northern reaches of the Black Riage, the mazes of the foot hills, and the bloodthirsty tribes of abhumans that battle for territory there.  Even the well-traveled roads aren't considered safe.

To the south lies the Caecilian Jungle, creeping ever northward along the riverbed of the Gaath.  Clear and cold, the Gaath runs southward in an ever-narrowing green ribbon pointing toward the cliffs below Canthus.  There it bursts forth from the rock like an eternal explosion of water and prismatic spray.  The reptilian clans of the jungle have followed the lush vegetation northward as well, killing farmers and fishers, fouling fields and destroying crops.

And the north?  No one comes from the north.  Barely two days travel away from Canthus is the escarpment that is the last usable land before the falling terrain again levels out at the foot of the Shimmering Veil.  Stretching in an ever-wavering arc for miles and miles in either direction, dwarfing every natural peak in sight, the Veil marks a line no one but the mad or desperate would be willing to cross.

The older man wiped his brow as they approached the top of the trail, and smiled at the younger man as they looked back upon their recent path from above.

Below them, the rainbow mists obscured the emergence of the Gaath river from the rock upon which they now stood.  He sipped from the water they had gathered earlier, enjoying the chill that still lingered in the crystal clear liquid.

The river flowed down and away from them, stretching toward the star-shaped Caecilian Jungle.  Thoughts of the perils they had survived (and that others had not) reminded him of the tokens they had acquired from the latter.  And now, at map's end, would they be able to find Hoa Sen?  As always, it was in the Hands of the Sovereign One.

He took a deep breath, enjoying the panoramic view, and his mind reached out with a telepathic tendril to touch a ring upon his left hand.  The ring answered with a gentle sound of wind chimes and a hauntingly beautiful wooden flute, transforming his thoughts into music.  And as he telepathically played, he lifted up his voice in gentle song...

"The Sovereign One my Shepherd is,
Whose goodness faileth never,
I nothing lack if I am His
And He is mine forever.

Where streams of living water flow
My ransomed soul He leadeth,
And where the verdant pastures grow,
With food celestial feedeth.

Perverse and foolish oft I strayed,
But yet in love He sought me,
And on His shoulder gently laid,
And home, rejoicing, brought me.

In death's dark vale I fear no ill
With Thee, dear Lord, beside me;
Thy rod and staff my comfort still,
Thy cross before to guide me.

Thou spread'st a table in my sight;
Thy unction grace bestoweth;
And O what transport of delight
From Thy pure chalice floweth!

And so through all the length of days
Thy goodness faileth never;
Good Shepherd, may I sing Thy praise
Within Thy house forever."

His voice died away, along with the wooden flute and wind chimes shortly after.

He sighed, and turned to his companion.

"Are you ready for Canthus, friend Derrick, and for the Shimmering Veil beyond?"

Mayhew leads the way for his small band of explorers and their pair of aneen. As the Black Riage vanishes behind them the land becomes more fertile and welcoming. His quick eyes take note of the signs of farming and travel.

They crest a small rise and Canthus comes into view for the first time in many days. He gives a cheerful shout of encouragement to his companions. "Canthus! We shall sleep in our beds tonight!"

He move back to the group. He pauses next to one of the aneen. He examines the ties holding the metal plating and the bags holding his lesser salvage.

Continuing to the rear of the group, he notices one young man lagging behind. "Tomen! Pick up the pace. You're nearly home don't fall out now. We're still in dangerous lands. I'm sure your love will have a warm welcome for you."

Once certain the group is still together, he rushes to the lead again. His magnificent tail is raised high with its tip almost reaching the height of the feather in his cap.

Derrick had been letting Agatho set the pace of their travel ever since they had come across the remains of the other party. He reasoned that whatever danger lay around them, it was more likely to come in the form of an ambush so he did not want to let his friend out of his sight. As they reached the top of the trail, he also took a moment to catch his breath. The climb had not been easy even for him and he was glad for the respite.

When Agatho began to project the music and sing, Derrick spread his feet slightly, clasped his hands in front of himself, and bowed his head. He stood at the edge of the cliff so that even with his head lowered he could see the mist and the colors that played across it. As his companion sang, Derrick did his best to internalize the meaning of the song. Agatho had explained to him of many occasions that the Sovereign One was often referred to as a Shepherd (which he had explained was an ancient word for a herdsman of a specific kind of animal called sheep) because it was common to compare people to sheep whom the Sovereign One watched over like a herdsman. As he contemplated the first line of the song, Derrick's mind wandered to imagining what a sheep might have looked like.

When the singing and the music died away, Derrick snapped his attention back to matters at hand and silently berated himself for not paying closer attention to the rest of the song. Out loud all he said was: "Yes, I think so. That was a lovely song Agatho. It was very fitting for the moment." He paused briefly before continuing. "The terrain up here is much gentler than on the trail or in the valley below, I think we'll be able to make good time to Canthus. Can you determine from the map how close we are?" He notably did not address the second part of Agatho's question. He had been wrestling with the idea of traveling to such an obviously dangerous place ever since Agatho had first brought it up.

In reply to Mayhew (msg # 3):

Only 3 hours or so from the farthest fields tended by the residents of Canthus, Mayhew paused to survey the scene as he comrades continued their weary trudge.  There seemed to be more build-up north of the aldea, a collection of structures a bit away from the main community.

Mayhew's sense of time was not nearly as good as his sense of direction.  Reflecting on his memories of the plans for the Scouts Camp, he realized he'd been gone from home nearly three weeks.  It was easier to track the time when he remembered he'd buried a friend every 6 days.

Blorr, the only Lattimor in the group, passed by with a grunt and the hint of a smile.  Tommen brought up the rear.  As he passed Mayhew, he spat, "Now you're holding up the group, fuzzy.  And if the chirogs have followed us this close to Canthus, we damaged their heads even more than we thought."

Mayhew gives Tommen a smile. "Fuzzy I am, but holding up the group, I am not. Come along my friends!"

Mayhew rushes to get to the head of the group again. Memories of those lost and the time spent are quickly washed away by the joy of returning home. He pushes on striving to reach Canthus before nightfall.

Before Mayhew had made it back to point, hardly necessary this close to home, Blorr called him over.  She asked, in her rolling bass voice, "Do you think any of the other groups had better luck than us?  We scoured everything between the Veil and the mountains.  All we found was scrub and slavering fangs.  Even that little 'oasis' was barely enough to shelter what's left of us until Esso was able to travel again."  She sighed and turned her gaze southward, where the green ribbon along the Gaath broadened into the horizon.  "My people have already been forced from our homes once and will be again.  I want to resettle just that one more time before I die, Mayhew.  Not that the humans haven't be accommodating, but ..."  Her thought trails into exhaustion as she turns back toward Canthus.

The older man nodded gently.

"Laud to the Sovereign One.  It is an ancient song from the Sacred Archives.  Indeed, it is one of my favorites."

He silently noted the partial answer of his companion with a reassuring smile.

"I suspect Canthus must be already within sight, or nearly so..."

He stepped away from the panoramic view of the cliff, walked a few final paces sloping upwardly, and pointed.

"I'd say that is already the southern palisade, so we are indeed likely to make good time."

He turned back to his companion.

"Some parts of our path are gentler, friend Derrick, and others less so.  A Shimmering Veil is always before us, obscuring the path ahead... but all is as decreed by the Sovereign One from the beginning of all things."

"As it is written: 'The Sovereign One is He who is going before thee, He himself is with thee; He doth not fail thee nor forsake thee; fear not, nor be affrighted.' "

"We are in Good Hands."

After following Agatho to the top of the rise, there was a noticeable relaxing of Derrick's shoulders when he saw the walls of the aldea. Within sight of there destination, he felt a resurgence of confidence.

He furrowed his brow at Agatho's statement about the Shimmering Veil, then after a moment the light of understanding dawned. "Oh, it's a metaphor. There are always obstacles, but they are part of the Plan. How important is it not to be afraid? Surely the scripture doesn't mean for us to go around heedless of danger?"

As he asked his questions, he hiked up the pack on his back and started down the far side of the slope towards the palisade. With the aldea in sight there was no reason to stay close to the muddy banks of the river so he steered away from them hoping to make better time.

Mayhew moves over to Blorr and listens to her. He nods. "While I hope someone found something, I'm preparing myself for the worst. Heading into the Veil isn't something I really want to do, but I will for the good of Canthus. And with me along, at least the team won't get lost.

"I know what you mean about wanting a place to setting down. Your people deserve a home. They deserve to live in their own culture. I will do everything I can to make that dream come true."

re: Mayhew

Blorr nods and keeps trudging.  She occasionally checks the aneen to make sure the equipment and salvaged parts are still secure.  Everyone is exhausted, but determined to make it to Canthus before nightfall.  When the returning explorers are an hour distant from the walls, Mayhew notices the signal flag rising on the western watch tower.  They'd been spotted.  A flag on the southern tower is visible, too, the color indicating foreigners, but not invaders.

re: Agatho and Derrick

You are not far from the palisade, less than ten minutes walk, really.  As you crest the rise, you see a flag rising at the tower above the gate.  Silhouetted figures move atop the walls, but there is no sense of alarm.  The other members of the people hoping to help (or make their fortune, or both) follow up behind you and continue to make their way toward the aldea.

Derrick, ever alert for possible danger, notices a flag on the western tower as well.  The tower to the east is unadorned.

Further south, and perhaps a touch to the east, of whether Derrick and Agatho approached the settlement, a figure travelled alone: bundled in a voluminous hooded grey cloak, not even their features were visible - hidden behind a shadowed mask. Strips of black and grey cloth, of varying shades, wrapped their limbs where they emerged from the cloak. Enough to suggest that perhaps this was only an outer cloak atop another lighter garment...

Travelling alone, the figure made a steady pace, strides eating up the ground quickly. They stopped occasionally, for no reason apparent to those who might be watching, speaking amicably to themselves or adjusting the heft of the long polearm they carried - it's style clearly Milgavian if the sisk at their belt was not evidence enough.

By the time the others approached the tower, they were perhaps a few hundred yards away

re: Artor

You crest the ridge of the east side of the cliff face from which the Gaath spews forth.  You found a followed a road that leads down toward the Beanstalk and other settlements beyond, giving a wide birth to the jungle as it wended northward.  It may have just been luck that you hadn't seen another traveler for days.

In the late afternoon light, you can see a second road from the east that joins yours before leading to the defended gate of the community.  The walls seem to be mostly local stone with an unfamiliar mortar of bright orange holding them together.  A few guards and spotters can be seen in the towers and above the gate, but none shows any alarm at seeing you or the group of people walking toward Canthus along the eastern fork.

The older man nodded at the younger man approvingly.

"Indeed, it is also written: 'The wise is fearing and turning from evil, And a fool is transgressing and is confident.' So there is a context in which we are not to fear, and a context in which we are to fear."

"The first passage tells us not to fear the prospect of obeying His commands."

"The second passage tells us to fear the prospect of not obeying His commands."

He observes the activity at the tower and upon the walls with interest as they walk, and notes the converging path of the lone figure cloaked in grey.  As always, he observes with both mundane and empathic senses as they draw nearer to one another, and gives a friendly nod in greeting.

"'Peace to you.' "

Beneath the hood a somewhat accented male voice emerges, the hard vowels and chopped syllables of Stirthal, “Greetings, Shepherd... it has been many moons since we crossed paths...”

He raised his hood, revealed a synth-mask that depicted an spirit creature of some kind; when the man spoke it echoed his emotion, now portraying one of faint surprise and pleasure, “It is Artor of the Underpipes, now sometimes called Graythane. You healed my ... mentor ... when you passed through our city”

The older man smiled warmly in recognition.

"It is good to see you again, friend Artor.  This is Derrick, of my flock family.  Well met."

"It has indeed been awhile.  What paths have brought you from there to here, to give me the pleasure of seeing you once again?"

Derrick took another moment to repeat the words to himself so as to understand the difference between Agatho's two statements. As he did, he acknowledged the lack of alarm on the walls of the settlement, which eased his mind, but also acknowledged the approaching figure in the hood which kept him slightly on edge.

Agatho's relative calmness in addressing the stranger convinced Derrick that there was no need to step forward in the older man's immediate defense, but he stayed close behind just in case. When the stranger introduced himself as someone who knew Agatho, Derrick relaxed more completely even if the strange mask unnerved him slightly. Agatho must have met the man in his journeys before Derrick as the large man was certain he would remember meeting someone who wore such a strange mask.

At the prompt, Derrick nodded his head in greeting. "A pleasure to meet you Artor."

Stepping forward the remaining paces, the frayed traceries of robe and swathe snapped in the mind. Something else moved beneath the cloak too, though and for a moment one check of the mask flickered with a black-green luminescence.

“Well met... Derrick”, he offered, the spirit mask shifting to a pleasant smile. He turned his attention back to the priest, “Last time we met I needed not to hide from the sun and moon.... I went deep into the Voil-“ referring to the canyon scar at the southern extent of Milgave “- indeed, perhaps too deep”

He said nothing more on the matter

The older man nodded thoughtfully.

"A mixed blessing...  If you could make that choice over again, knowing what you now know, would you choose the same path, or refrain?"

“Even in the Ninth World it behoves a man not to rewalk his path, Shepherd”, was all Artor would say on the matter

The older man nodded.

"And how is your mentor faring now, friend Artor?"

Mayhew points to the signal flags. "We have visitors arriving the same day we return. I take that as a good sign. While we didn't find a new home, we did get the salvage and that will help. And we learned a bit more about the world around us and that's always useful."

Mayhew smiles happily as he continues to move with his usual grace and curious energy.