The Silver Sphinx

 

“The animal within finds expression without here on the Beastlands.”

Lysander, a Wylder speaking of Primal Changes

 

 

Third Guild Day of Decadre, 126 HR

Morânia awoke to the chirping of birds. For a brief moment, she wondered where she was and expected to see damp ruins when she opened her eyes. But she was lying by the fire in front of Roscoe’s den, wrapped in a blanket with her head resting on her backpack. The embers had nearly burned out, but the air was pleasantly warm. The same golden light as the day before shone over the treetops. No dawn, no first ray of sunlight, no transition from darkness to light. After all, there was no night on Krigala. Many thought that the eternal light would appeal to her as a follower of the Morninglord. But in truth, she didn’t particularly appreciate this peculiarity of the layer. After all, Lathander was not only the god of the sun, but also of dawn and sunrise. And precisely what his followers considered the holiest time of the day did not exist here. No dawn to honor her god in a small ceremony. Nevertheless, she sent a brief prayer his way and then looked over at her companions. They, too, were now slowly beginning to stir. Jana sleepily brushed her hair out of her face, and Kiyoshi sat up and looked around attentively, while Lereia, still in tiger form, stretched extensively and let out a contented yawn.

“Good morning,” Roscoe’s voice rang out.

Morânia glanced over at the small leaf hut. The werebadger had just stepped out and came over to them to stoke up the fire and prepare breakfast. Soon, mushrooms and roots were sizzling in a small pan, and next to it stood bowls of berries and honey as well as some bread.

“Thank you, Roscoe. That’s very kind of you,” said Morânia.

The werebadger nodded friendly. “I figured, before you head out again, you could use something in your stomachs.”

“We certainly can,” said Naghûl, who was just sitting up. He ran both hands through his hair and suddenly paused. “Something’s got entangled in my hair.”

Jana leaned over towards him. With her fingertips, she pulled a long, iridescent feather out of Naghûl’s hair and held it up.

He winced. “That twinges. Please don’t pull out any hair.”

Morânia looked at the feather and smiled. She knew exactly what was going on, but she wanted her husband to figure it out on his own.

“There are even more,” said Jana. She carefully ran her fingers through Naghûl’s hair, and sure enough, there were more feathers there. Peacock feathers, without a doubt. The sorceress examined them in wonder. “What have you done while sleeping?”

Naghûl looked at the feathers, and it seemed as if a light dawned on him. “Oh … the Primal Changes are setting in.” He laughed softly. “I’m a peacock. That’s great!”

Morânia had to laugh. “Fitting, isn’t it?”

“Oh … yes, very fitting.” Jana grinned widely.

Sgillin looked at Naghûl. “That seems a bit far-fetched to me.” He actually managed to remain dead serious.

“The chaotic ones.” Morânia shook her head, amused.

For people of a chaotic alignment, the Primal Changes began after just one to six hours. That was why her husband had grown a few peacock feathers while sleeping. And Sgillin probably hadn’t been spared either. The half-elf seemed to be realizing this as well, for he was now frantically glancing at his forearms. And indeed: fine, green scales were visible on his skin. They spread all the way up to his elbows and shimmered in the golden light.

Sgillin sighed. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, here we go again.”

Morânia recalled that Sgillin had mentioned displaying the characteristics of a snake during an earlier journey to the Beastlands. Lereia looked over at him and nodded knowingly as well.

Reassuringly, Morânia waved her hand. “Don't worry. It’s not like it’s a disease, after all.”

“Right,” said the tigress. “To be honest, I actually find it pretty interesting.”

Naghûl, on the other hand, seemed downright pleased with his transformation. He gently stroked one of the feathers peeking out from among his hair and examined it in the light.

Sgillin, on the other hand, turned to him and stuck his tongue out. “Iff it already ffplit?”

“Oh yes, Sgillin,” Naghûl said seriously.

He bluffed so convincingly that the half-elf actually looked at him suspiciously for a moment. “What? For ffure?”

Naghûl put on a look of genuine concern. “I’ll be honest: it really does look bad.”

Sgillin felt his tongue with his fingertip, then grinned. “You lying peacock.”

Amused, Roscoe set a bowl of roasted mushrooms and roots on a flat rock next to the fire. “If you’re going to start teasing each other, you might as well have breakfast while you’re at it.”

Naghûl helped himself immediately. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Kiyoshi had been watching the scene and now looked around questioningly. “Forgive my ignorance, honorable companions, but what are the Primal Changes?”

Morânia also took a bowl and sat back down by the fire. “When you spend some time on the Beastlands, you take on the characteristics of a specific animal that best represents you. But don’t worry, it goes away once you leave the plane. After leaving, the effect lasts as long as you were on the Beastlands, so for visitors, it’s usually not very long.”

Kiyoshi nodded. “I thank you for your enlightening words, venerable Morânia-sama.”

Jana had picked a flower and was twirling it between her fingers. “Would the spell Planar Tolerance help in this case?”

Morânia nodded. “It would work, but personally, I actually find the Primal Changes quite fascinating. A few small, animal-like traits don’t bother me, as long as they’re temporary.”

She glanced down at herself and ran her fingers through her hair to see if she too was already showing signs of the Primal Changes. For those of a less chaotic alignment, it could take up to twenty-four hours for the first changes to appear. For lawful individuals, it took as long as two to five days. But there were no changes yet, neither in Morânia, nor in Jana or Kiyoshi. Lereia, of course, wouldn’t show any traits in her tiger form anyway. To satisfy this side of herself, the tigress now rose and disappeared into the forest, no doubt to hunt for breakfast. The others ate the fried mushrooms and roots that Roscoe had prepared and dipped the fresh bread into the honey. In silence, they simply sat together, eating and enjoying the crackling of the fire and the peaceful surroundings. After a while, there was a rustling in the underbrush. Lereia emerged from among the trees and licked her muzzle with relish. Apparently, she had succeeded in catching her breakfast. When the bowls were emptied and the last pieces of bread had been eaten, they stood up and began packing up their things.

“Thank you very much for your hospitality,” Morânia said to Roscoe. “The meal and the rest have really done us good.”

“Quite right,” Naghûl agreed. “That was exactly what we needed.”

The werebadger waved it off. “We should help each other out when we can.”

Kiyoshi bowed to him. “Thank you very much nonetheless, honorable Roscoe-san.”

“No problem at all, really.” Roscoe smiled warmly. Like many were-creatures, he had quite expressive facial features in his hybrid-form. “And now you’re continuing on your way?”

Jana nodded. “Exactly. We’re looking for something. As we said, it’s secret, unfortunately.”

“Then have a safe journey,” Roscoe replied. “And take care of yourselves. This may be an Upper Plane, but it’s the wildest and most untamed of them all. Dangers can lurk here, too.”

“We’ll be careful,” Lereia promised.

Morânia slung her backpack over her shoulder and reached for the Memory Stone. “All right, then. Let’s see where it takes us today.”

She closed her fingers around the stone and focused on the sword Memory. Then she felt that barely perceptible tug again, one that had become almost familiar by now. It wasn’t strong enough to actually pull her anywhere unless she wanted it to. Yet there was no doubt that the stone knew where they needed to go. She raised her hand and slowly turned in a circle. The pull grew weaker, then stronger again, until it finally pointed clearly in one direction. “That way,” she said.

Jana looked towards the edge of the clearing and sighed. “I had hoped it would point to some kind of path.”

“There aren’t any real paths here,” Sgillin noted. “That’s what makes it so exciting.”

Jana’s expression made it clear that the sorceress and the ranger had fundamentally different ideas about what constituted an exciting hike. Lereia, on the other hand, purred contentedly and set off. Naturally, she found the sourroundings more appealing than anyone else did. The rest of the group followed her, and after just a few minutes they found themselves once again beneath a dense canopy of trees. The forest was bright and welcoming, and yet Morânia had a feeling that they were being watched more closely here than in any other forest. Not necessarily in a threatening way, but as if the plane itself knew they were there. Small animals darted through the trees, some of them ordinary squirrels or dormice, while others Morânia couldn’t even have named. At one point, a marten-like creature with green fur and unusually large ears sat on a fallen tree trunk and watched them, while above them a flock of tiny, colorfully feathered birds flew from branch to branch. One of them perched on Kiyoshi’s shoulder for a few moments, eyeing the dragon-blooded curiously, and only flew away when he turned his head towards it.

The Memory Stone led them along a narrow stream that meandered through the forest. Lereia ran a few steps ahead, then stopped and lifted her head. Her ears twitched attentively before she set off again. Every now and then she would disappear among the trees and reappear shortly afterwards, as if she were exploring the surroundings, but without ever really straying far from the group. A little further on, the stream flowed over a low rocky ledge, forming a small waterfall. Here, the forest gradually thinned out. Tall grasses now grew among the trees, their stalks swaying in the wind. Yellow flowers bloomed among them, and here and there bluish mushrooms sprouted from the ground, some barely larger than a thumb, others as tall as a child. One particularly large mushroom had a crooked stem and a broad cap, under which a small rabbit had sought shelter and was sleeping. Since Lereia wasn’t hungry, they walked past as quietly as possible so as not to wake it. Despite the rather rough terrain, the hours passed pleasantly. Every now and then they took a short break when the landscape invited them to linger. Once they passed a wide clearing where a herd of large stags was moving about. One of them had antlers with small white flowers growing on them. When they stopped to admire it, Sgillin called out to it in animal language, telling it that it had nothing to fear from Lereia. The deer actually came closer and let Naghûl scratch its neck.

“I think, unlike that monkey with the hat yesterday, it likes me,” said the tiefling with a smile.

Sgillin grinned. “It probably thinks you’re a peacock.”

Naghûl ran his fingers through his hair ostentatiously. “I don’t see any downside to that.”

The others laughed, and even Kiyoshi couldn’t help but smile. As they left the clearing behind them, patches of light danced on the ground beneath the trees like a thousand little brimstone butterflies. Yellow and blue wildflowers poked their heads out of the grass and swayed in the gentle breeze. Now Morânia noticed more and more clearly how her perception was changing: The light between the leaves seemed more intense, the colors appeared more vivid, and even the faintest sounds reached her ears clearly. All her senses had become sharper; she saw, heard, smelled and tasted things she would never have noticed otherwise - a gift from the Beastlands to all who dwelled there. Morânia took a deep breath. The air smelled of grass, damp earth and flowers, and somewhere in the distance, the scent of liquid honey in a beehive lingered. She could even make out the soft buzzing of countless insects, even though they were far away. She had to smile when she realized how many little things were suddenly catching her attention. The scent of a certain flower she didn’t know. The soft crack of a branch somewhere far behind them. The taste of the air as they passed a stream. Even the rustling of the leaves sounded like a song. She could understand why Lereia felt so at home here.

But she also knew that they were lucky. There were far wilder and more dangerous places in the Beastlands than this friendly forest. There were predators, significantly larger and more menacing than even Lereia in her tiger form. So far, they hadn’t encountered any of them, and she sent a brief prayer to the Morninglord that it might stay that way. As time went on, the landscape changed. The trees stood no longer quite as close together, and larger clearings opened up more and more frequently. The ground became drier and more solid, while the terrain gradually sloped upwards. A short while later, they reached the edge of the forest, and a vast, gently rolling plain stretched out before them. The grass came up to their knees, and in the distance, scattered clusters of trees were visible like green islands. Morânia looked at the Memory Stone. The pull was still there, so they followed it and took a path that wound its way between two hills. Beyond it, they encountered the first small sign of civilization since their arrival in the Beastlands: an old signpost made of weathered wood. Morânia stopped. On the sign was an arrow painted in green, and carved beneath it was a single word: Signpost.

Doubtfully, Sgillin raised his eyebrows. “A signpost that says Signpost? That seems a little … pointless to me.”

Morânia laughed, though she could certainly understand his confusion. “I’m pretty sure it refers to the town of Signpost,” she explained.

Jana, too, looked at the sign with a certain skepticism. “A town with that name doesn’t really make it any better.”

“But at least like that it makes more sense to put up a signpost saying Signpost,” Naghûl replied cheerfully. “The town is the planar headquarters of the Signers. It’s a quiet and quite inviting place, so not the worst destination.”

Lereia eyed the gray orb in Morânia’s hand. “And does the stone lead us there?”

Morânia looked at the Memory Stone. The pull was still distinctly present and was indeed guiding her in the direction the signpost pointed. She nodded. “It certainly looks that way. Then off to one of the few towns here in the Beastlands, I’d say.”

They continued on, passing between several hills as the plain grew more undulating and the slope became steeper. Finally, they made out the foothills of a larger rock formation on the horizon, not high enough to be called a mountain range, but still visible from afar in the grassy landscape. And between those rocks, they then spotted the outlines of several buildings. At first, they were just dark spots amidst the gray and green, little more than a cluster of shapes that could just as easily have been natural rocks. But the closer they got, the more clearly they could make out walls, roofs and a few small towers. At the base of the rock formation, a narrow, rocky path led upward into the settlement, and here they also encountered a few other travelers: two githzerai discussing philosophical questions, who gave them only a brief nod as they passed, and a half-elf with a leopard’s tail, riding a brown bear that was trotting along leisurely. The tail was certainly a sign of the Primal Changes, and Morânia instinctively let her gaze wander over her arms and hands. They had been here for almost twenty-four hours now, so …

And sure enough, her fingers were taking on slight talon-like characteristics, and a few fine feathers were sprouting on the backs of her hands, matching those of her wings in color. The bal’aasi smiled. She had already been to the Beastlands and knew that she was taking on the traits of a snow falcon here. It had been a while, so it was a bit unfamiliar again, but she actually felt a connection to this bird of prey and therefore liked the effect of the Primal Changes. Naghûl had noticed it too and nodded with a smile, running his hand contentedly over the peacock feathers in his hair. The farther they followed the path, the more sounds the wind carried to them: laughter, conversations, the calls of various animals. And somewhere, a bell tolled. When they finally reached the end of the path, they found themselves standing before a tall palisade fence with a simple gate which, however, stood wide open. Sitting there was an elf with long, auburn hair who, judging by her clothing, appeared to be a ranger. She had just let the two githzerai pass and now turned to the Chosen.

“Greetings, travelers,” she said kindly. “Do you wish to visit our beautiful town Signpost?”

“We would love to,” Naghûl confirmed. “Will you grant us entry?”

The elf looked them over one by one, not unkindly, but scrutinizing. Morânia was certain that she was checking their alignments and examined whether there was anything undead or fiendish about them.

Then she nodded, apparently satisfied with the results of her examination. “Certainly. Come in, and welcome to Signpost.”

They thanked her and then entered the settlement located behind the wooden palisades. Signpost could hardly be called a real town. The place was more of a seemingly haphazard collection of small buildings. Many were made of wood and clay; only a few had more than two stories. Large areas within the enclosure were also unbuilt on, covered with trees and bushes or with dens obviously inhabited by animals. There were hardly any paved streets, and those that existed led only to the few larger buildings. All other paths were, at best, well-trodden trails through the grass. The inhabitants of Signpost were as diverse as those of Sigil, though their composition was somewhat different, more animal-like, more in touch with nature. Among the humanoid inhabitants were many druids, shamans and rangers; in addition to humans, halflings and half-elves, many elves and aasimar lived here. Most displayed the typical characteristics of the Primal Changes: fur, feathers or scales covering certain body parts, tails, animal ears, horns or even wings. But there were also many non-humanoid inhabitants in Signpost: satyrs, bariaurs, wemics, tabaxi and centaurs, therianthropes of every kind, awakened animals and petitioners in animals form. While the Chosen watched a young satyra playing the flute by a fountain, a very large fox - possibly a were-creature - was basking in the sun beside her. At a small market stall, a half-elven shaman was conversing with a majestic wemic, and in the branches of the tree above them, a naga boy had coiled himself around a branch, his serpentine body glistening with ruby- and ivory-colored scales. Signpost was not what one would call a “civilized” town, let alone part of a high culture. It was a simple but peaceful place, full of life, dreaming along in the eternal light of a sunny afternoon.

 

 

Jana looked around with a smile. “It’s very tranquil here.”

“Yes, a beautiful place,” Morânia agreed, pausing to take a closer look.

No one seemed to be in any particular hurry. Merchants chatted with customers, all sorts of animals wandered through the streets as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and the laughter of several children drifted from one of the houses further away. Naghûl stepped up beside Morânia to take it all in for a silent moment, his eyes wide with excitement. Lereia also seemed relaxed and very content.

“Yes, this is a nice place to be,” Sgillin remarked, taking a deep breath.

Morânia looked at the gray orb, which still rested in her palm, and focused once more on the sword Memory. The stone drew her onward, and so the six followed a narrow path that wound its way between two houses, leading them deeper into the town. Soon they passed a small square where an old tree stretched its wide-spreading branches over several wooden benches. Two centaurs stood there, chatting, while a gnome carrying a basket full of herbs walked between them. A little further on, an elven woman sat in front of her house, weaving colorful ribbons into a zebra’s mane. At another house, a group of children had gathered a small herd of young animals around them. A fox cub playfully snapped at a piece of cloth, while a little girl tried to lure it with the rag. Not far from there, a satyr whispered something into a bariaur’s ear, who then burst into roaring laughter. A few houses further on, the Chosen passed a small market where mainly fruits, herbs, honey and mushrooms were on offer. An aasimar with small, reddish feathers on her temples handed a grippli a basket of berries, while next to her a wemic was carefully examining several bundles of dried herbs. The scent of freshly baked bread wafted from an open hut, and somewhere nearby, the steady tapping of a woodpecker could be heard.

A little further on, they discovered a small pond, on the shore of which an old druid with the antlers of a roebuck stood in the shallow water. He carefully placed an injured waterbird on a flat stone. The bird shook out its feathers but remained sitting calmly, allowing the man to heal its wound. Morânia had the impression that Signpost wasn’t even trying to be a town in the traditional sense. The houses, gardens, small squares and animal dens seemed to have simply sprung up wherever it happened to fit. Even the few larger stone buildings seemed like natural gathering places of the community and were overgrown with flowering vines. The Memory Stone led them on, and Morânia followed its barely perceptible pull until the path finally narrowed and led between two low wooden houses. Beyond them, it grew quieter. Here the buildings were spaced farther apart, and bushes and young trees grew between them. Before them stood a small half-timbered house with two clay pots in front of the door, in which small yellow flowers were blooming. The pull clearly pointed towards the door of this cottage.

Morânia paused. “Here,” she said. “That’s where it’s drawing me.”

The others stopped behind her and looked at the house. Nothing about it seemed out of the ordinary. No sign, no special symbol, no indication of what might be inside. And yet the Memory Stone had led them right here. Morânia had just reached out her hand towards the door when soft footsteps approached from behind them. She turned and saw a small, blonde girl emerge from among the bushes, perhaps seven or eight years old. The little girl paused a few steps away at first, curiously eyeing the strange visitors. Behind her, a large lion trotted slowly towards them, then stopped beside the girl and settled leisurely into the grass.

Sgillin raised his hand and waved to the two of them. “Hello.”

As they drew closer, Morânia realized that the child bore distinct signs of the Primal Changes: The skin on her arms and neck was covered with a pattern of light and dark spots that extended up to her cheekbones and resembled the coat of a giraffe.

“Hello, little one,” Naghûl said kindly.

Lereia, on the other hand, slightly bowed her massive head to the lion and let out a soft growl that didn’t sound aggressive, however. She had probably greeted the other big cat in animal language. Jana eyed the lion cautiously and took a step back, while Kiyoshi bowed politely.

The girl took a few more steps closer until she was standing right in front of them. “You don’t live here, do you? Are you visiting?”

“That’s right,” the bal’aasi confirmed. “I am Morânia, and you?”

“I’m Linni.” The girl stood on her tiptoes a little and then pointed at the lion. “And this is Brama. My guardian, so to speak.”

Kiyoshi nodded solemnly. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Linni-chan. And yours as well, honorable Brama-san.”

Brama merely raised his head briefly at the greeting before resting it back on his front paws.

“You sure have a proud and powerful guardian,” Naghûl said with a smile. “I’m really impressed.”

Linni laughed. “My mom always leaves him with me when she goes out to gather herbs.”

“I see.” Jana couldn’t help but grin. “Given how naive you are when approaching strangers, that’s probably for the best.”

Linni looked at her, puzzled. “Why?”

“Never mind.” Jana waved it off and pointed at the house. “Tell me, Linni, do you know who lives there?”

The girl shook her head. “Nope, nobody lives there. Too much traffic.”

Lereia tilted her head. “Traffic?”

“Well, because the portal gets used quite often.”

Lereia looked at the door. “A portal? Where does it lead?”

“To Sigil, of course,” the child replied, as if everyone really knew that. Perhaps that was even true of the residents of Signpost.

Lereia now examined the door a little more closely. “Does the stone guide us back to Sigil?”

Morânia frowned. “Either to Sigil or actually into the house.” As she consciously focused on it, she could now actually sense the portal in the doorframe.

Linni looked curiously at the gray orb in her hand. “What’s that?”

Jana turned back to the girl and ignored the question for the moment. “You surely know which key is needed for this portal, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Come on, tell me,” the sorceress urged the child.

Linni grinned mischievously. “Will I get a treat then?”

Morânia had to smile at the girl’s negotiating skills. Well, with a mighty lion by her side, she could certainly get away with such demands.

Without hesitation, Kiyoshi reached for his backpack. “I could offer you some Bytopian green honey, Linni-chan.”

Linni’s eyes lit up. “Honey’s fine. And the green kind is really tasty!”

Kiyoshi pulled a screw top jar with clear, light-green contents out of his backpack and handed it to the girl. Linni thanked him effusively, unscrewed the cap and immediately stuck a finger inside the jar. She licked the honey off her finger, nodded contentedly, and screwed the cap back on.

“A frog,” she then explained. “That’s the key.”

Jana nodded thoughtfully. “Do you also know where in Sigil the portal opens?”

“Nope, no idea.”

Morânia looked at the Memory Stone. “I don’t have a frog with me. That means I can’t accidentally disappear to Sigil. I’m going to take the stone into the house.”

“But please be careful,” Jana said earnestly.

Morânia nodded, then slowly opened the door of the half-timbered house and stepped inside. There was indeed just a small, empty room. As Linni had said, apparently no one lived here. There wasn’t a single piece of furniture, nor was there anything else that would explain why the Memory Stone had led her here of all places. Morânia paced back and forth a few steps, keeping a close eye on the stone. The pull changed direction and was now leading her back towards the exit.

She shook her head. “The stone is pulling towards the door again. I think we need a frog.”

As she stepped back outside, Jana turned to the girl once more. “Does it have to be a specific kind of frog, Linni?”

The child thought hard about the question for a moment, but then shrugged. “Nope … I don’t think so.”

“Hmm, where could we get a frog?” the sorceress wondered. “They probably don’t sell them around here, do they?”

Kiyoshi thoughtfully flapped his brass-colored wings up and down. “I think I saw one by the pond earlier. Should I try to go catch it?”

Morânia shook her head immediately. “Better not. People here don’t really like it when you catch animals, and what if it’s a petitioner?”

“Forgive me.” Kiyoshi paused. “I hadn’t considered that this might be seen as an aggressive act. I just wanted to catch it, not hurt it.”

Morânia smiled. “I believe you. Still, the petitioners on the Beastlands don’t like being caught.”

Kiyoshi thought about it for a moment. “I could just ask politely.”

“That would be better,” Morânia said with a laugh.

Linni, who had been stroking Brama’s mane in the meantime, suddenly seemed to have an idea and raised a finger. “Or you could ask the frog druid.”

Lereia turned to her. “That sounds like a good idea. Where can we find this druid?”

The girl pointed vaguely towards the market stalls. “He’s usually somewhere over there.”

Sgillin furrowed his brow. “What does frog druid mean? Is he a grippli?”

“Nope. He’s got a frog with him. As his familiar.”

Naghûl grinned widely and turned to Jana. “Maybe he can turn you into a frog, and we’ll use you as the key.”

While Kiyoshi’s expression remained impassive, Morânia, Sgillin and Lereia laughed heartily.

Jana kept a straight face. “Croak,” she said in a deeper voice. But then she grinned.

Naghûl giggled, clearly in high spirits, and then walked towards a woman standing two houses over. She was human, wore her long dark hair loose and had black feathered raven wings. Perhaps they were a sign of the Primal Changes. A large, gray wolf sat beside her.

“Lady's Grace, beautiful lady,” Naghûl greeted her with an elegant bow. “May I bother you for a moment?”

The woman nodded at him kindly. “Heyday, visitor. What is it?”

“We’re looking for a frog druid. Could you perhaps help us?”

She seemed to know exactly who he was talking about, for she pointed to a slightly crooked wooden tower that was to be seen above the low houses. “Take a look around the little pond behind those houses over there. That’s where he’s usually to be found.”

“Thank you very much,” replied Naghûl. “That helps a lot. Have a nice day.”

The woman with the raven wings smiled. “You too, you’re welcome.” Then she turned back to the big wolf.

Naghûl returned to the others. “The lady with the wolf says we’ll find him by that tower over there.”

Together they set off, while Linni and the lion Brama stayed behind at the hut. Although the tower was one of the more striking buildings in Signpost, it didn’t look particularly imposing. The ground floor consisted of rough stones, while the stories above were built of wood, and all around, grasses and small shrubs grew right up to the walls. Next to the tower was a small pond covered with water lilies. A halfling was sitting there on a low bench. He had strikingly greenish, toad-like skin.

Naghûl raised his hand in greeting. “Lady's Grace, good sir.”

“Hello there.” As the halfling waved to them, the webbing between his fingers became visible. “Visitors from Sigil, eh?”

Jana looked at him in surprise. “Is it that obvious?”

The man shook his head with a smile. “Given the greeting, I suppose so.”

“You’re right, we’re from Sigil.” Naghûl laughed. “And we were sent straight to you.”

“Sent? To me?” The halfling raised his eyebrows.

“Yes, we want to go back to Sigil through the nearby portal. So we figured, since you need a frog as a key, maybe you could help us?”

Something stirred in the grass next to the halfling. A small green frog hopped out and onto a flat stone. “Typical,” it grumbled. “Everyone asks the druid. And who asks the frog?”

Naghûl paused briefly, then smiled apologetically. “Forgive me, you’re absolutely right. I was truly careless.”

Now Kiyoshi stepped forward. He bowed deeply to the frog and spoke with a gravity as if he were addressing a high-ranking dignitary. “Honorable frog-san. Would you do us the honor of helping us through the portal to Sigil?”

The frog looked at Kiyoshi and puffed up his vocal sacs. “Ohoo … that sounds quite different.” His demeanor changed noticeably. “Well, when asked so politely, and by the Harmonium, no less…”

The young soldier wore his faction symbol openly here, and in this case, it even seemed to pay off. Morânia’s smile grew wider as she watched the exchange between the Harmonium soldier and the frog. Meanwhile, the druid was filling his pipe and seemed just as amused.

The frog’s vocal sacs had now swollen so proudly that he looked almost twice as big. “So. Croak. It’s about a portal, is it?”

“Indeed, honorable frog-san,” Kiyoshi confirmed.

The frog craned his neck. “Yes, yes. I am, so to speak, an expert in the field of acting as a portal key.”

The druid nodded with a smile and lit his pipe. “That’s right. Slaq often opens a certain portal here.”

Kiyoshi bowed once more. “I thank you for these enlightening words. Would it be possible for you, honorable Slaq-san, to do us the honor of putting your unique ability at our disposal?”

Slaq inflated his vocal sacs even a little further. “I think, esteemed warrior of the Harmonium, I might consider it.”

While Naghûl was following the conversation with growing enthusiasm, Lereia looked at the druid. “Excuse me, may I ask one more question? Do you happen to know where the portal opens in Sigil?”

The halfling smiled. “Of course. In the Hall of Speakers.” He winked at her and pointed to the floor in front of him. “Our headquarters here.” Then he pointed towards the cottage. “And our headquarters in Sigil. Got it?”

Lereia nodded. “Ah, I see. Very convenient.”

Kiyoshi turned back to the druid’s familiar. “We will follow you, honorable Slaq-san.”

The frog hopped off, and they made their way back to the small half-timbered house. When they arrived, Linni waved at them.

“Ah, there you are again. That was quick. Hello, Slaq.” She seemed to be able to distinguish the frog from other frogs without any trouble.

 

 

“Hello there, little one,” replied Slaq, who was clearly much smaller than the human child. Then he turned to the Chosen. “So, do you have everything? Shall we get started right away?”

“I will just change back,” said Lereia. “I’d rather enter the Hall of Speakers in human form.”

She disappeared inside the house and emerged a short time later as a young woman. Linni didn’t seem surprised in the least. Having grown up in Signpost, she had certainly had contact with many therianthropes already.

When Lereia rejoined the group, Kiyoshi turned to the frog. “We eagerly await the demonstration of your special abilities, honorable Slaq-san.”

The frog inflated his vocal sacs once more. “Well then, watch a master at work.” With affected dignity, he hopped towards the portal.

Morânia had to force herself not to grin too widely at the exaggerated pride the little frog was displaying. The others seemed to feel the same way - except for Kiyoshi, who remained solemnly serious. Slaq hopped up the few steps in front of the entrance. When he had come within about three palms of the doorframe, the air there began to shimmer. A narrow rim of light appeared within the doorframe and spread rapidly until a portal actually opened there.

Kiyoshi nodded. “You didn’t overpromise, honorable Slaq-san.”

“Hahaaa!” The frog puffed himself up triumphantly.

Naghûl applauded with a remarkably serious expression. “Excellent!”

Slaq turned to face them. “I wish you a safe journey.”

“We are deeply indebted to you, honorable Slaq-san.” Kiyoshi bowed deeply.

“Oh, well. Croak. One does what one can.” The frog tried to adopt an expression of exaggerated modesty, which lost some of its effect due to his still bulging vocal sacs.

Kiyoshi nodded to him, and for a split second Morânia thought she saw a faint smile on his lips. Then he stepped through the portal. Morânia cast one last glance back. Linni stood next to the lion Brama and waved to them, while Slaq obviously attached great importance to looking as if the whole affair were day-to-day business for him. Perhaps it even was. Morânia smiled, then she, too, stepped through the portal.

 

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played August 21, 2013