The sky was turning mauve, the molten lava of the sun disk radiated directly ahead of Fredericka. She could not decide whether she liked it or not: the sunset above the hills of North Downs warmed up the heart with its majesty, yet the sun was blinding, and with Fornost ahead, she felt like she could use her vision better. She feared what number and sort of creatures can come out of Fornost. Are they too powerful and overwhelming? Tomorrow would show, but for tonight, they were still camping out in the wilderness. The strange traveller attached to her for this expedition seemed more at ease with nature, he was obviously a Lore-Master like Lilu, whispering to the wind and chattering with the wild animals. The further away they traveled from the Rangers' encampment and closer to Fornost, the more withdrawn the Lore-Master became. Fredericka did not pester him with questions and decided to rely on his knowledge of nature throughout this leg of the journey. Of course, she knew better than to upset a man who is friends with birds of prey...
Freddie squinted just from thinking how sharp the birds' talons must be. The sun was lowering down steadily, its disk more defined and the twilight enveloping their little camp.
By noon of the next day the two have reached the first ruins of Fornost. The peculiarity of its drafts alerted Fredericka right away. It was a place where shades dwelled, the eerie sounds and sudden gusts of dusty wind with all their effort indicated to the strangers that this was a dangerous area. Fredericka was finally in her element! Her thirst for danger in the ruins finally fueled and, giving her more courage, made her step forward into the ruins.
As she walked, she touched lichen on the stones with tips of her fingers, breathed in the chilling moldy air, listened uneasily to the surreal echoes of the footsteps, not necessarily theirs... Whispers surrounded her everywhere. "Shades!..." She half-swore and half-observed. These were the moments that she lived for, and ironically, the moments when it was so easy to lose life.
The two headed forward, deeper into the ruins, threading carefully. What would they see there? How will they stay unnoticed?
…
... The cold evening air was what woke her up - or what helped her regain the lost senses. The cold floor of an old, half-crumbled tower had a similar effect, when pressing on her cheek. Whispers. Whispers around and below, in a half-forgotten language, archaic and half-gibberish. Only half, though. They were full of fear and regret. But, also, of hatred...
"I hate cold..." was the first semi-conscious thought that ran through her mind before she opened her eyes. She tried to sense the environment, her body position, her hands and feet, mostly because she could not remember how she got to this horizontal position.
The view was spectacular. The ruins of Fornost, at her feet, fires of an orc encampment, eerie lights among crumblings fingers of the towers, stars and moon above. There was more, though. A cold, unfamiliar object in her hand. A knife...
She slowly turned her head and looked at her hand - a knife? …And then, she suddenly thought of her Lore-Master companion. Where was he? She sat down slowly and silently, trying to draw little attention and searching for his signs. Was there anyone alive nearby at all? She tried to assess her safety, as well.
... Fredericka was high up on the old, ruined tower. Alone. Below her, there were shadows and shades, muttering and slithering, half-present, half-faded. They seemed to be unaware of her. How did she end up so high? What happened in Fornost? That she could not recall...
She looked around to see what would be the best way to climb down, and preferably if there were no shades on any of the sides of the tower. She still held the mysterious knife in her hand, but she really wanted to know if shades somehow miraculously omitted one side of the tower so that she could go down quickly.
The tower, itself, was free of any shades. They swirled and roamed around, lingering on the old stones and covering the dirt with unearthly flickering. The way down looked rather easy, with many of the steps and planks looking solid. If she remains unnoticed, that is...
Freddie was in a better disposition as she was thankful for the moon providing some light for her. She took a few minutes studying the mysterious knife...The knife looked like a good find, but Freddie was incredibly curious and spooked of the fact that she had no idea how the knife came into her possession. She decided to keep it in her hand and moved slowly toward the stairs down, sensing each step before placing her full weight onto it. She was very highly alert now.
Not much has changed. The muttering and half-gibberish sounds prevailed, as she descended. The cold air surrounded her, but the shades seemed to be oblivious of her presence. Soon, though, she would descend deep enough into the tower, that light would become scarce and the knife in her hand would start hindering her moves…
Yet she kept on moving.
In a bit she reached a small chasm - the only way to get across was to either jump or lower herself to lower level.
Fredericka tucked in her knife and tried to jump down.
The descend to the lower level, when having both her hands free, was easy for an agile person. She also managed to do it quietly, simply raising some dust. To her surprise, or, maybe, confirming her suspicions, she found traces of her own tracks, indicating that she did go up herself before, in a hurry. However… As soon as she got to the lower level, the whispers and muttering stopped. Focused. She felt watched...
The fear of her being a prisoner of shades on top of the tower chiller her soul. She decided that being scared was the worst thing she could feel now. Wasn't she the lover of fear? She proceeded slowly, remembering to take out the knife again, holding it in her left hand now.
As soon as she took the knife in her hand, the whispers and muttering started again. The ominous presence was still there, nearby, yet not focused on her, like if she was in the blind spot, with the shades turning a blind eye. Interesting...
Fredericka proceeded down, with more determination now, yet stepping carefully. Where was the Lore master? She almost wished there were some bird feathers on the ground, or some sort of sign from her companion... "How high is this tower" she thought irritably. It didn't seem so high when she looked from atop.
The further descent was surprisingly uneventful. Yes, the surroundings were eerie and the atmosphere suggested lurking danger, yet there was no open hostility, the shades remained oblivious of her. Strange. She found her way to the very bottom of the tower, just a small jump down and a few paces till she can reach the exit, when... She realized that there is a shade coalescing in the archway. A shade taking a shape of a man, a ghastly apparition with dead, milky eyes, staring right at her...
She froze for a moment, breathed in and out, and keeping as much attention on the shade as possible, she hopped down.
The shade emanated cold. Cold and dread. The old, ancient, by current standards, tattered garments looked both out of place and very much like the surrounding ruins. The lifeless milky eyes stared right at Fredericka. Right through her. Completely unaware of her presence. The dead lips kept muttering gibberish...
Fredericka looked on the floor and picked up a pebble , throwing it past the shade, so it would land somewhere outside, disturbing the nearby shrubbery. She wanted to see it that would distract or draw attention of the shade.
The shade flickered, as it saw the pebble go by him. The ghastly, dreadful expression focused, as well as the feeling of cold increased. Without a word, shades started to swirl and coalesce around the tower, at seemingly random locations. It's still possible to squeeze between them, but soon they might cut out all the ways of exit...
Freddie lurched forward, aiming to squeeze past the shade, and out, to the right, hugging the outer wall, instinctively holding the mysterious knife between herself and the shade in the archway.
The shades knew that someone was there. Someone who they came after... or were sent after? Yet, for some reason, they had no idea how to find her. Their dead, cold fingers kept cutting the air, blindly, hopelessly, unable to get a hold on careful Fredericka. She managed to get away from the tower, now surrounded with shades and covered in traces of frost...
She moved toward the right, making some distance between herself and shades, trying to exit their field of vision.
The shades remained behind her, still flocking to the tower, amassing by the entrance. She could move away easily now. The grip of the knife was slightly colder than it should be, like if resonating with the presence of the ghosts...
She glanced at it briefly - it might have been more valuable than she thought initially... Now that she was free of the shades, this was her protection, of sorts. She still was on the mission to learn more, and this seemed to be a good vantage point to plan her scouting. She peered into distance and memories started amassing in her head. She recollected that she scouted this area with the Lore-Master. They saw the Orc camp and had enough information to bring the report back to Mahin. Fredericka glanced at the Orc camp again.
The camp seemed to be put on alert. Something has stirred them and made them unease. It will be considerably harder to sneak past again...
Being alone and having very little protection, she hesitated to go back to the last point she remembered herself in - inside Fornost... However, she needed to know if the Orcs have the Lore-master. Fredericka carefully considered her options - she could not possibly see the Lore-Master in all the commotion of the Orc camp, but that commotion bothered her greatly. Saving the Lore-master, if it is possible or even needed at all, might be a lesser prerogative than notifying the rangers in Esteldin about the happenings here in Fornost. So, with her heart heavy, she started making her way down toward Ost Nuaran, where she would try making a safe exit from Fornost and head straight to the Wyld Hunt representatives with her report.
