“Wait,” Iryn whispered, placing her hand on Torfyr’s arm. “Let me try something first.”
Torfyr stared at her with eyes like iron, a storm of emotion rolling over his usually placid face. The strider started to argue, but then sighed and nodded in resigned agreement.
Iryn smiled reassuringly at the man then quietly moved halfway down the hillside. She drew her short frame up straight and began to sing. The song, one of the first she learned as an apprentice minstrel, was an ancient halfling melody crafted by tavern bards of old. They imbued the melody with ancient magics to soothe the ale addled minds of aggressive patrons, but the Song was quickly applied to other uses.
Her voice was quiet at first, forming pale green notes of magic that hung in the air before her. Even ten years on, the effect of seeing the Soothing Song’s magic forming before her sent chills through her. The hairs on her arms and the nape of her neck stood on end in exhilaration and wonder. As her voice rose in volume, the green magic brightened until it was a blinding green swarm of magical music notes. At the first crescendo, the creatures paused in their assault on the stranded Dontar and turned their bulbous orange eyes in her direction.
Iryn: Activate an Ability
The magic of the song floated over the horde of small, voracious creatures. Their shrieks quieted and, as one, they turned their attention to the minstrel. The beasts that hung from the boulder, or from Dontar’s leather breeches, let go and tumbled carelessly to the ground. Even Dontar, his eyes previously full of terror, was now steady and calm.
“Keep singing,” Iryn heard Torfyr whisper in her ear then saw him motion Dontar toward them.
She began to add bits of her own musical taste into the Soothing Song, weaving a drowsiness into the Song’s calming power. The creatures never took their eyes off her as Dontar slowly and carefully picked his way through the swarm and climbed the hill.
“Back away slowly, minstrel,” Torfyr whispered.
Iryn cautiously took a step backward, then another as the spell seemed to hold. With each step, she grew more confident that the Song would hold the creatures. She backpedaled quickly now, putting as much ground between her and the creatures as she could in case the Song lapsed before she released it.
She reached the crest of the hill and Torfyr spoke again. “Now we run. Fast as you can to the Songbird.”
Iryn held up three fingers, then slowly lowered them one at a time. When she closed her hand into a fist, she stopped singing and took off at a sprint down the far side of the hill, following after Dontar and long-legged Torfyr. Myn, her rapier still drawn, kept pace beside her as they climbed the next rise. Midway up, the creatures began to shriek and scream as the effect of the Song wore off, releasing them from the catatonic state.
“They are coming!” Myn called, picking up her pace and gripping Iryn’s hand.
Iryn’s legs burned as she barreled up the hillside and down into the next valley, Myn at her side. Ahead, Dontar and Torfyr were scrambling over broken scree halfway up the next hill. The screeching wails of the strange creatures were growing closer as she struggled to keep her footing on the loose stones.
“Come on, Iryn,” Myn called, now a few feet ahead of her. “They are coming!”
Looking back, Iryn spotted the first few melon-sized monsters scrambling down into the valley she had just left behind. A dozen more were skidding and hopping down the hill itself, their screeches becoming deafening in the still afternoon air.
“The scree might slow them, but we have to hurry!” Myn called again, now at the top of the hill waiting for Iryn to reach her.
The halfling doubled over when she reached the summit, grasping the gnome’s forearm as she breathed deeply. Her calves blazed with pain from the exertion. She made a mental note to work on her physical endurance once this was all over. Minstrels were seldom forced into action, and were more accustomed to wagons and cushioned seats than running for their lives.
“Look!” Myn called, pointing back down the hill. “Looks like the scree is causing them some problems. We can put some distance between us but we have to run now!”
Iryn sighed, knowing she was going to feel this for days to come. “Let’s go.”
The horde of creatures screeched and wailed somewhere behind them, struggling to catch up on the stone-scattered surface of the last few hills leading east toward the Songbird. Torfyr and Dontar waited for them by the rushing water of the river. The bank on the far side was grassy and flat, but the stones and rapids of the river itself gave the untested halfling pause.
“They will be upon us soon,” Torfyr rumbled. “Go across.”
“Won’t the current sweep us away?”
“It’s not deep here. Mind your footing, and you’ll be fine,” the woodsman said. “Dontar go first with Myn. We will follow.”
Dontar waded out into the river, its strong current piling up against his leather-clad calves. The shorter gnome balanced herself with arms outstretched, carefully choosing her steps, and staying close to the taller human. The water crashed against her thighs, but Myn stayed upright and soon the two reached the center of the river where the current was calmer, and a sandbar made it shallower.
“Head across,” Torfyr said when the others had made it to the sandbar. “I’ll follow.”
At first, Iryn wanted to object. She was afraid she would be swept away. She stood a half-head shorter than Myn and the deepest parts of the river had hit her at thigh height. It would be up to her navel, she knew, and had been counting on Torfyr’s steadying presence to keep her going.
“They come,” the woodsman whispered. “Go.”
Seeing the lone creature scramble down the hill, however, drove her forward. The water quickly rose to her hips, then up to her navel, as she picked her way through the water toward the sandbar. Iryn hummed the Soothing Song to herself, the familiar tune bringing comfort despite her choice not to activate the magic. The rush of the water nearly knocked her off her feet more than once, but she bore up under the fear and pressed on. As she reached the sandbar, she heard a high keening and turned to look back at Torfyr.
The woodsman had his bow drawn and, when the creature came close, he loosed the arrow. Iryn watched as the monster bucked and stumbled as the arrow buried itself into its lower body. To her surprise, it did not fall. It screamed again and launched itself toward Torfyr. The woodsman dropped his bow and drew a battered hunting knife. The blade stabbed forward, skewering the creature in the beak-like maw. A loud snap echoed over the roar of the river, and the creature fell to the ground. All that remained in Torfyr’s hand was the hilt of the knife.
The woodsman snatched up his bow and the dead creature before splashing into the river. The rest of the horde screamed and hissed at him as his long legs carried him through the rough current and to the sandbar where he stopped beside Iryn to look back at the monsters on the far shore.
Torfyr: Activate an Item
“Why’d you risk it?” Iryn asked, still gazing across the choppy waters.
“Need to know what it is,” Torfyr replied, holding the creature up by one of its bird-like legs. “You seen anything like it?”
“No, never.”
“I know every beast and bird in these parts. This thing is unnatural.”
“Looks like you were right about the river,” Iryn said, pointing as a group of the things tried to enter the water, only to be knocked off their stubby legs and carried away by the current.
“Most small predators avoid running water.”
“I’m glad you are here, then. I would not have thought to make for the river.”
Torfyr’s lip quirked up in an unpracticed attempt at a smile. “You did well too, minstrel. Like as not, that horde would’ve had us all for dinner if you hadn’t worked your magic.”
“The Soothing Song is like running water for the emotionally worked up. I’m just glad it worked on those things.”
The creatures paced the shore as the two Remnants talked, before a larger specimen with bright red eyes and six-inch long curving horns on its brow stalked forward and warbled in a language neither Torfyr or Iryn could understand. The creature’s beaked mouth opened, and a gout of red flame rushed out. The fire slammed against the water, sending steam into the air and scattering river stones with the impact. When the steam cleared, the creature glowered at the water and hissed in anger before turning and hopping away toward the hills. The other creatures soon followed the larger one.
“That must’ve been the alpha,” Torfyr murmured.
“Agreed.”
Torfyr led the way across the river, while Iryn stayed close and followed his footing as accurately as she could. Within a few moments, the two joined their companions on the far side of the river.
“What was that thing?” Myn asked. “The big one.”
“Probably the alpha,” Torfyr replied. “Bigger and meaner by far.”
“I’m glad we didn’t have to fight them,” said the gnome.
“Me too!” Dontar agreed, uttering his first words since the Remnants had rescued him. “I cut into one of them with my knife, and it shrugged off a three-inch slash like it was nothing.”
“This one should’ve went down to my arrow. Didn’t though,” Torfyr agreed, holding up the corpse to show the arrow still embedded in its rotund body. “Took steel through the throat to end it. Broke this old blade too.”
“We should get back to the village,” Myn said. “Maybe the Sisters will know more about these things.”
“Lead the way,” Torfyr said, gesturing down the dirt wagon road that meandered close by the river. “Crossing ain’t but a few miles. We’ll make it before sundown.”
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