Lost Anchorage - The Wood of Suicides

 

Deeper into the shadowlands our heroes tred, into a world that now bears only a faint resemblance to the material plane. Through a horrorscape birthed from the dying memories and nightmares of Lady Ophelia, hidden within this dark forest lies the salvation of the Lost Anchorage. And their own.

"You don't belong here" the two faceless statues flanking the gate announced in unison. 

"We have business here" replied Dakhir, 

"The living have no business here" said the statues.

"Nonetheless" said Dakhir.

The gate remained stubbornly closed

"You know that hedge doesn't look very thick." said Ozraeline. I am pretty sure The Sturg and I could make short work of it." The Sturg nodded.

"Possibly, but I have a feeling we need to go in through the gate. Remember what the Navigator said, 'This place runs on symmetry, sympathy, and contagion'. I think if we just chop our way through the hedges we wouldn't be playing by the rules...." said Dakhir.

"Maybe that statue of  Lady Ophelia might be able to help" Ricmo pointed. It seems to be watching us, and I saw it moving" 

Whisperleaf walked over and addressed the statue. "Lady Ophelia, we have come to end your suffering, please aid us!". The statue sighed and clutched the baby closer to it's chest. "Lady White, if you could be kind enough to order the gate to open?". The statue sighed again.

"I don't think that's really her" said Dakhir. "Some kind of reflection or echo maybe."

"I think you could say that about this whole place". Whisperleaf replied. 

Ricmo walked back up to the gate. 

"Let me in. I am a friend of Vangeline, daughter of Lady Ophelia" 

He showed the marble that Vangeline had given him.

The gate slowly swung open.

"Sometimes it helps to have the key" he smirked.

Beyond the gate the forest began almost immediately. It was a relatively open wood, without any underbrush, and the dry brown grass was short. almost manicured. The fog hung heavy though, cold and damp, and it was difficult to see more then a few feet ahead. Looming up through the fog and the trees the heroes caught occasional glimpses of familiar buildings. The lighthouse. Darcy's tower. The bastion.

"This will be difficult to traverse" said Marus. "This place is enchanted and arriving at a destination may not be straightforward, nor a matter of simple woodcraft. I will do my best to lead us through, but to where are we going?"

"I can see the Lighthouse in the distance" said Freddy. "Might be a reasonable place to start, since it features so strongly in all these events. Plus, it's close".

The rest of the party agreed that made sense, and started forward into the wood under the canopy of dark trees. It wasn't far before Whisperleaf drew in a sharp breath and stopped suddenly, pointing at two large trees ahead of their direction of travel.

"Faces!"

Even from this distance they could see the faces were animated, not mere carvings, muttered mumblings from them were carried on the winds.

"They are coming over the wall. They will kill us all" muttered one tree in a guttural male voice.

"There is no way I can come up with that much gold. They will take everything" sighed the other in a tired female voice.

Whisperleaf, concern and compassion on his face walked over to the two trees.

"Friends, how may we help you?"

The female tree turned her face toward him. "There is no help for me. There is no way out. Only one way out." and then was silent

"We are trapped, we will be tortured and killed by the Karg. Tortured for days, sport for those barbarians. We cannot escape. Only one way out." said the other.

But try as he might Whisperleaf could not establish a dialogue with them, their self reflections seemed oblivious to his words. After a time, he had no choice but to give up and the party continued on, pensive expressions on their faces.

"There is something in the sky above us, flying through the fog" announced Marus.

"Birds?" asked Whisperleaf

"Not birds" said Marus. "Something else."

The Lighthouse had appeared only a league away but it took a surprisingly long time to reach it.

"Why this lighthouse, and yet no sight of the sea?" asked Ricmo. "And where did the rest of the town go?"

"I've heard it sad that in addition to the spirits of the dead, the echoes of places can also find their way into the deep shadow" said Dakhir. "Powerful places, places with dark history, leave remnants, ghosts if you will. I suspect that is what these are."

"I think she brought them here" said Freddy. "Lady Ophelia. These are all parts of her story, places she had a connection to."

Whisperleaf nodded. "But how? She was just an admirals wife, no hint of such power, from talking to the townsfolk".

"There are many paths to power" said Dakhir. "I suspect Lady Ophelia found an especially dark one. "

"Hold I hear something." announced Marus. "It sounds like screams".

Marus carefully led the party toward the noises, She winced several times at the unintentional racket her friends made, stealth was not their strong suit, but nonetheless they managed to reach the glade that was the origin of the ruckus without being detected.

In a small grove, several creatures clustered around a tree. They had the head and breasts of women but their arms were wings of some dark bird, as where their lower bodies.

"Harpies" Marus hissed. "But what are they doing to that tree?"

Tormenting it, apparently

"Oh look, my sister" said one of the harpies, perching on the branch of a tree and raking her long claws through its bark. "It doesn't like my caress".  She laughed evilly as the long gashes she had put in the treebark welled red with what looked like blood.

"Please just leave me alone" the tree moaned. "I have done nothing to you."

"Oh my poor dear, let me ease your pain" cackled another harpy, with a slash of claws cutting a large branch off. "Oh my, you seem to have dropped something" as a gout of blood gushed from the stump. The harpies laughed uproariously. 

Whisperleaf looked on in growing wrath. He was generally an easy going sort, but not when it came to the forest. He exchanged a glance with Marus, who nodded silently and unlimbered her bow. Whisperleaf stalked out into the clearing.

"Oh shit" said Dakhir. "We probably could have just bypassed this." Marus gave him a scowl. 

"You there" said Whisperleaf sternly. "Leave off tormenting her.  This is not acceptable,"

The four harpies turned their attention to the Druid.

"Who are you? How dare you interfere with our sport. Perhaps you will be next to experience our ministrations, eh sisters?"

Marus stepped out of the cover of the trees and showed herself, bow in hand. The rest of the party followed, swords were drawn. Ozraeline cut the air with hers in a complex pattern, limbering up. Dakhir summoned flame in his hand and smiled evilly back at the creatures.The Sturg just stood there, oozing threat and the promise of violence,

"Leave this place, or die" said Whisperleaf sternly. There was no hint of the smiling affable Druid now. He stood tall, and his eyes blazed, one hand holding up his staff, the other resting on the hilt of his great scimitar, taken from the dead hand of the snake god Syssuul. 

The moment hung on a knife's edge. 

The harpy's backed down, cowed. "Very well my kittens, very well. We will leave this" slash "fool" slash "to you, but we will be seeing you again, oh yes." 

"Be gone" said Whisperleaf

And they took flight. 

"We should have killed them" said Dakhir. Marus nodded. "They are likely to return when we least want them to. Never leave an enemy to your rear." 

Whisperleaf went over to the tree that was sobbing inconsolably, healing magic welling from his hands. 

----------------------------------------

The Lighthouse was unexpectedly occupied.

"I count ten men at arms" said Marus. "Most clustered in a defensive formation around the door, but two crossbowmen on the parapet. No firearms, but their leader is heavily armored. There is a barbarian bowmen hidden on their flank, looks like one of the plains tribes. Very well hidden. Very skilled in woodcraft. Not skilled enough. They are aware of us, likely saw us approach from the tower". She seemed chagrined about that last statement, 

"Ahoy the tower!" yelled Ricmo. "Don't shoot us! We are friendly!"

Ricmo's statement seemed to cause some consternation among the soldiers, and after a moment the heavily armored leader stepped forward, looking resplendent in his mirrored full plate.

"Ahh excellent, good to see friendly faces from the Duchy, though I must admit I cannot place your accent. Perhaps you could provide us with some directions, my patrol and I could use some aid, our scout seems to have gotten us lost. My name is Captain Hershel Saint John and we are the third company of the Dawnguard Legion. This is my scout Mogwa" gesturing toward the concealed bowman.

The barbarian bowman exited his concealment, with a peeved look, and walked over to the soldiers while muttering to himself in an entirely different language. 

"Mogwa not lost you fool Mogwa is dead. We are all dead. This is the spirit world. Mogwa has explained, but you are not listening. Idiot metal-man."

"Speak a civilized tongue my man, you know we cannot understand Katashi" said the Captain. 

"There is much you do not understand" said Mogwa, still in his native tongue.

Ricmo was not sure exactly how Red Alice's Gift of Tongues actually worked. All he knew is he could speak and understand any language, admittedly always with a foreign accent, He turned his attention on Mogwa and spoke

"Dead? What happened?"

Mogwa looked a little surprised to hear his native tongue out of the Halfling but responded. 

"These idiots happened. They decided to travel through the Bear People's territory in wintertime, hunting for some lawbreaker that escaped their prison, I told them it was suicide, but they insisted, and I was under a blood oath to assist them in their idiot endeavors, They are noisy and have no woodcraft. He glows, he is worse then no woodcraft (pointed at the mirrored plate armor). I managed to keep them alive for three days but then we were caught in an ambush and killed. Awoke here."

"Your scout says you are dead" said Ricmo cheerily

"Nonsense" said Saint-John. "Do I look dead my good man? Merely off track a bit. Say, do you know the way back to the Barony? East perhaps? Bit turned around among all these trees. Never heard of a forest like this in the plains" a bit of uncertainty creeping into his words.

Whisperleaf motioned the rest of the heroes over for a quick powwow. "These folk could be useful" he pointed out. "Perhaps we can convince them to travel with us"

"More muscle is always  a good plan" agreed Dakhir. 

"Captain Saint-John, perhaps you and your men would be interested in joining forces as we attempt to find our way out of these woods?"  asked Whisperleaf

The Captain considered the proposition. "Agreed. We must warn you that savage creatures rule the skies here. Combining forces to keep them at bay seems prudent."

"Excellent. Then we are allies!" announced Whisperleaf, offering his hand. The Captain shook it. The men at arms cheered.

The group, much larger now, set off into the dark woods, 

At first they traveled together in one formation but that didn't last long. After hissing several times at the Captain about the ruckus his men made, Marus eventually insisted on a marching order where the Captain and his patrols followed along about a hundred yards to the side. Marus took point a few yards ahead of the party and Mogwa brought up the rear.

And thus it was when the harpies attacked they were not caught unawares. 

"Harpies" snarled Marus, unlimbering her bow, knocking and firing in one smooth motion

The harpies came from out of the fog, ahead and behind simultaneously. Rather then warcry's or snarls, they sang as they came, an eerily beautiful melody for such terrible creatures.

As one, the troop of men-at-arms eyes glazed over and they turned, slack jawed toward the harpies at the rear. "Present arms, you rabble!" thundered Saint-John, brandishing his greatsword, but his men ignored him, following, weapons limp in their hands as one of the harpies led them deeper into the woods.

The heroes themselves felt the siren call of the music. Dakhir bemusedly shook his head, as if to clear it, The Sturg lowered his sword, mesmerized. But then suddenly a counter melody, jaunty and up tempo cut through the hapries song, breaking the harmony and banishing it. Freddy stood in the center of the party, singing, pushing back the enchantment that was trying to claim his friends.

Heads suddenly clear the heroes sprang into action. With a roar, Whisperleaf changed, assuming the form of a sabre tooth tiger and pouncing on the nearest harpy. Ricmo followed in the lions wake, twin blades going snickety snick The Sturg charged into two more of the creatures, Ozraeline and The Captain held the rear, while Marus rained arrows into the harpy that was luring the rest of the men at arms away. And in the center of the party, a look of supreme concertation on his face, fingers moving like lightening over his guitar strings, Freddy fought his own personal duel, melody vs melody as his song and the harpies music struggled for dominance

 

The battle was savage and sharp, but deprived of their enchanting song, the harpies could not match the party in shere prowess. After two of their sisters fell, including the one that had ensorcelled the men at arms, the other harpies retreated back to the skies.

"They nest in the Bastion" Marus observed. "We would do well to stay clear of it."

The party formed up and continued.

"Deeper into the forest, toward Darcy's tower I think" said Marus. 

The others nodded.