After making their departures from Bree (see At a Window), the party road in relative silence along the East road towards Trestlebridge, save the sound of Finch crunching apples given her as a good luck gift by Rathvald. Xandilif rode at the front, with Finchley close behind her. Catalinna, Gwyndolith and Dartanius road together in the center, with Gwyn riding behind Dar on his horse and Nethrida took up the rear guard out of habit.
They passed through Trestlebridge with little pause save for a few rueful stares and bad memories (see Moyna’s Children). Catalinna shook her head slightly at the ever smoldering ruins and for a moment wondered where Gregwald’s path had taken him since that battle, then dismissed the thought as pointless sentiment.
Across the great bridge and several hours ride into the Downs, they finally came to a ridge overlooking the start of a grey and benighted expanse, the very air seeming to be dying, dotted with stunted trees.
Xandilif sighed. “There it is....the Fields of Fornost. The land never recovered from the war....it’s as if nature itself was wounded.”
Nethrida was visibly pale as she looked out into the fields. This place had loomed large in her nightmares for so long it was almost a relief to finally be confronting it....almost.
Finchley peered ahead and frowned a bit. "Turn east, never north... That's what the folk in Trestlebridge always say...". She dropped her last apple core gently into a patch of nettles, as if hoping an apple tree would someday sprout.
Xandilif spat. 'Yeah well…WE are goin’ North. Anyone want out, now is the time...'
Dartanius looked around, nearly growling, 'We need to be cautious from here. The land is know for the Wild Wargs and Bargasets.'
The Banshee snorted. 'Wargs and whatnot will be the LEAST of our problems, Boyfriend.”
Dar bristled slightly at the strange nickname and the odd elf’s dismissive manner. Weren’t elves always singing and ever cordial? 'Boyfriend...that is a new nickname.'
Finchley shrugged, 'Lif does that.' She took a deep breath and held her side for a moment, feeling the spirit she bore stirring a bit. "SHE may not want to be here with every fibre of her bein'," she mumbled. "But I do."
Gwyndolith raised a brow curiously at Finch's comment but let it go, just exchanging a concerned glance with Dar.
The elleth trotted her warhorse forward a bit. 'We'll make camp a little ways in....'
Catalinna didn’t make any attempt at a verbal reply. Instead, she looked out over the wartorn land and then continued on with them.
After an hour or so more, with evening approaching, Xandilif pulled up short on a hilltop overlooking the broken road. 'This is as good as any...good visibility, easily defended'
Dartanius dismounted, helped Gwyn down and allowed his horse to wander close by. “I agree.”
Galvra the raven flapped up into a tree as Finchley dismounted, peering around and then said, "Feck off" to nothing in particular.
Finchley grinned and turned to Lif. “Maybe Galvra sees someone we don’t..” It had started out as a jest but her blood ran a bit cold midway through.
Xandilif spat and she and Galvra said “Fecking bird…” almost in unison.
Nethrida took one more glance backwards and dismounted from her steed. She stumbled a little as she did, shuddering all over being this close to Fornost. She felt somehow as if she were walking across her own grave.
Everyone set to tasks to prepare the small camp as darkness descended, the air cold and strangely damp. The group was filled with a strong sense that something was wrong as the mist deepened. Suddenly Nethrida gave a soft cry and dropped to her knees.
Finchley shivered and then heard the knight fall to the ground. "Neth!" She moved over to the woman and leaned down to get a good look at her. Her eyes were wide open, staring up into the mists.
Catalinna glanced over to Neth and quirked a brow as the woman dropped to the ground then looked at Lif, not overly concerned. "Is she alright?"
Staring up into the mist, Nethrida had been overwhelmed with a vision. A dream of a man of noble bearing, strapping on a sword, HER sword. A woman was helping him, whispering..."WE can flee...even now I know ways....you will DIE today if you remain." The man nodded, saying “I know...yet Remain I shall.'
Finchley knealt down by Neth and rested a hand on her shoulder, shivering in her leather armor a bit. Nethrida however did not seem to notice her. She was as pale as a ghost and held onto her head, trembling all over.
At Cat’s remark, Xandilif looked to where Finch had yelled. "Ah feck..what's wrong with Trouble?
Having moved slightly away from the others, Dartanius looked around the area, disturbed by the air he had to breathe. During the trip he had gotten used to the scents of those he was traveling with and was trying to pick up on any scents in the surroundings which were not of those he was traveling with. He was finding nothing..nothing at all, and the air was growing colder.
Gwyndolith hissed out a breath "We'll need a fire before long... Especially for that one seemingly." she said gesturing to Neth.
Finchley looked up to Lif as she put an arm around Neth's shoulder, still shivering herself. "I dunno, Lif. But somethin' ain't right here."
Gwyndolith snorted loudly at that "It's Fornost lass... Get used to it."
Catalinna remembered what the doctor had said about the air and the soil here and was glad that she had chosen to wear a mask, especially at seeing the other woman so faint. "Maybe you should get somethin' to cover her mouth and nose.. keep her from breathin' this in."
Suddenly Nethrida started up, her eye clearing a bit as her voice mumbled, 'R...Remain I shall...'
Finchley stood, looking very concerned. "Neth?"
Nethrida let out a little yelp and snapped back to the moment at hand. Breathing heavily and slouching over, she was still holding onto her head.
Gwyndolith stared at Neth warily while pulling her mask and hood tight. "You have some history here hm?"
Dartanius looked over at Neth. "Perhaps we need a fall back to a more distant spot for a camp for the wobbly one?"
Xandilif nearly snarled defensively. 'She ain't wobbly, Boyfriend..she is just...highly strung.'
Catalinna couldn’t help but chuckle at Dar calling the stuffy, oh so proper knight "wobbly one."
Nethrida shook her head, pulling herself to her feet, 'I... I'll be... fine... Just... A vision...'
Catalinna looked concerned, 'What vision, hm?'
Nethrida hesitated, then continued, 'I... Two people... Something about fleeing... And remaining here... a dream? A memory?"
As she said “remaining here” the group looked around..the mist was a good deal thicker then it had been before Nethrida’s outburst, and the darkness was deeper.
Suddenly they all heard a voice, apparently on the wind but most of them cannot make out what it was saying, but it was certainly calling for someone'
Gwyndolith refused to look into the mist, gathering some sticks and grass for the fire.
The voice would seem to call again, it’s tones muffled. Unable to bear it any more Finchley asked, '... Anyone else hear that or is it just me imaginin' things?'
Xandilif looked at the misty night sky and squinted. "Yeah...I hear it...somebody is callin'...I sort of recognize the voice.”
Catalinna quirked a brow and concentrated, until she felt she could make out what the voice was calling for. "Anyone here the 'namegiver? The voice is calling for the Namegiver."
Finchley froze in place and slowly looked at Cat. "What'd you say?"
'Namegiver... Is that you?' Cat met the woman’s gaze.
Finchley looked down, '... Someone gave me that name, aye.'
Catalinna nodded, 'Then I think that someone is lookin' for you, emissary.'
Finchley tensed up and rested a hand on the hilt of one of her daggers. "Someone or somethin'?" She turned and peered around the campsite, trying but failing to see clearly through the mist.
Gwyndolith kept her back firmly to the others and let out a little sigh as she struck the flint to light the fire, brightening up the vicinity.
Xandilif looked at Finch in concern and nodded. "I think so too Babygirl, its callin’ for the namegiver...answer it."
Finchley nearly snapped at the elf, 'Answer it, Banshee? Like how, just say “HENLO!!”?'
Xandilif shrugged, 'Maybe, or "I am here"...or "FECK OFF, I am having a moment"...something.'
Finchley glanced between Lif and Cat and then stepped to the edge of the hill and snorted softly. “If Grams could see me talkin’ to the mist she would make fun a me for days…” but then the thought of her Grams, of Moyna, and their present situation steeled her resolve. She took a moment to raise her hands to the sides of her mouth and took in a deep breath. After a bit she finally called out, "Hello?!"
Catalinna didn’t make a move to arm herself...yet. Her eyes gleamed however with amusement as she watched the strange woman call out to the voice.
Ignoring all that, Gwyndolith tended the small fire with Dar’s help, but rested a hand near one of her many knives.
At the sound of her voice the mists would seem to gather more thickly in front of Finchley, slowly taking on the form of a shade...a small shade. Suddenly its voice would seem at once as broad as the night sky and as small as a frightened little boy. “Namegiver?...it's me....Robin....'
Finchley blinked and then looked down, flooded with memories (see Dearly Departed). "Robin?" She smiled a bit sadly though her brows furrowed. "What're you doin' here? I thought you went to be with your sister."
The shade would seem to nod. "I know...but you should NOT be here....They...wait for you.'
Finchley felt her blood run even colder, 'Who's they?'
Gwyn and Dar just listened curious but also very wary while Catalinna folded her arms across her chest, her right hand discreetly falling on the hilt of the silver dagger on her left side- she didn’t draw it, but was ready. Xandilif and Nethrida simply hovered near Finchley’s shoulder protectively, watching her.
The shade would seem to gesture towards deeper in Fornost. "They...all of them...and one...one who has waited long for you, since the walls fell.” The shade’s voice swelled into a terrifying wail. “Go AWAY Namegiver!!!”
Finchley did not flinch but shook her head sadly. "I can't, Robin. There's somethin' here I need to find. The lady who's grave they bound you to, she told me to come here and look for it. If I don't... Well, I want very much to get rid of my mark and live."
At the mention of the lady whose grave he had been bound to, the shade would suddenly seem to notice Cat and gasped. "The Soulreaper!!!...please..please don’t let her eat me again....'
Catalinna's brows raised and then after the initial surprise wore off, she lowered her mask and flashed a wicked grin at the shade. Robin howled in terror, as if he had seen that grin before. The shade wrapped its misty arms around Finch's legs and cried piteously.
Finchley knelt down in front of the shade and pressed the palm of her hand where she thought his shoulder was, even though he was a ghost. "That's Miss Cat. Not Moyna." She glanced over her shoulder and gave Cat a /look/ before turning her attention back to Robin. "She won't hurt you. Remember what I told you? You are free. No one can do what they did to you anymore."
Catalinna replaced her mask, 'Don't promise the lad somethin' you can't be certain of, emissary.'
Finchley glanced over her shoulder again, her gaze suddenly harder then Cat had thought her capable of. "You'll not touch a single... hair? On his head? Eh, either way, you'll not be hurtin' this little one. Thank you."
However the shade would not calm. "Please...go...and take her with you...go from this place or they will have you. In the depths of what once was and will be again is the Lord of Could Have Been....Arazakan. He waits for you...and he will add you to his chambers. Go...go from here Namegiver. Already the High Priestess of the Vessel raises her pavilions, already the Twins of Future Past lay their traps. GO FROM HERE, BACK TO THE LANDS OF SOFT BREEZES AND GAMES OF TAG AND HOT SOUP!”
Finchley shook her head and sort of cradled the spectre as best she could even though he was mostly mist. "Shh, it's okay. I can't go from here Robin. Not till I've found what it is I came for... But perhaps you can help me find it?"
Catalinna grinned behind her mask again as Finchley tried to play nursemaid to a ghost who was babbling nonsense, her eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. However she was still looking around between words to take everything in, prepared for other shades worse than this one
The shade however seemed to have forgotten about Cat and was now utterly focused on Finchley. “Promise me....Promise me Namegiver you will go away'
Finchley smiled softly. "I keep telling you Robin, when I find what it is I'm lookin' for, Robin, yes, I will go away. I swear on your name, as I am the one who named you."
Robin suddenly seemed to look heartbroken and began to fade...."Then you will die.....you will die....'
Finchley looked just as sad and unwrapped her arms from around the spectre. "I've no intention of dyin', Robin. But thank you for warnin' me... Goodbye. Don't forget your name."
Robin whispered softly as the mist eased again. "All truths are lies...and lies are truth....and you will die of nothing but regrets, unable to save him.'…and then the Shade was gone.
Catalinna laughed harshly at the shade's words and Gwyndolith joined in, 'Oh how terribly vague... As per usual... Can't they just say things straight?'
Finchley stood and kept still for a moment, expression hidden by her hood. Xandilif rested one hand on her shoulder in silence.
As the mist faded, morning rises...and in the distance, they could already see the craggy silhouette of the last great Fortress of Arnor, called Fornost.
