Spring Break

It was the early hours of the morning by the time the entire procession reached Alderheart but the city was abuzz with talk of our victory. We were welcomed back as heroes and taken straight up to the canopy to meet with the Birdfolk Council.

The council members were in various degrees of attire. One elderly Strig was wearing irregularly buttoned pyjamas and silk night cap. The head of the council, however, looked ever the consummate professional. Speaker Bita was as well-preened and bright-eyed as one would expect.

Once we were all gathered in the council hall, the tall captain of the Perch Guard gave another rousing speech. She talked of our march through the forest, the battle, the dangers we faced, and our costly victory.

“Alderheart will never be able to thank you heroes enough. But the battle is far from won and the city is still at risk,” she finished gravely.

Speaker Bita got to her feet.

“First of all, I extend my thanks to you all,” she said making sure to meet the eyes of the crowd. “Now I’m afraid I must ask more of you. We need as much information as possible regarding the bandit camp: numbers, fortifications, the direction the survivors fled.”

An awkward silence fell across the room. Who would be brave enough to reply?

“Um, if I may,” bumbled Crispin. “I think there were about a hundred bandits there in total. And about a fifth of them got away. But Plume killed one of the captains: Fray Merridan.”

“They were heading East toward the Crest Mountains,” I added.

The council members scribbled notes as our party and others in the Alderheart forces explained the details to the council.

Speaker Bita considered the reports. “Unfortunately, this is not the news we were hoping for,” she said, shaking her head. “The camp that you attacked must only have been a forward base. The main camp would have contained many hundreds of bandits.”

The other council members nodded their agreement.

“Either way, for your wonderful service to Alderheart we can at least offer you this.” Speaker Bita gestured to a bespectacled Hedge nearby who produced several bags of gold. “No doubt you need to resupply. You have all shown your ability, and we would ask you stay around for when we are ready to launch a counteroffensive.”

We collected our gold and tracked back through the canopy market, exhausted and unsteady, and returned to Eliza’s shop to collapse into a fitful sleep.

---

Over the next week we took advantage of the facilities available to us in the city of Alderheart.

I got up early one morning and headed to an armourers owned by a burly Strig. He and I picked out a nice set of scale mail which came in a flattering turquoise. I happened to mention that I was one of the heroes of Alderheart who had recently returned from fighting the bandit menace and I got a little discount for my trouble.

Crispin headed back to his old haunts in Alexander’s Soup Kitchen to volunteer his time and donate any money he earned back to the poor. It seemed like he was making up for some of that blood on his hands.

Olive even played her song about Babson at the soup kitchen again and she was happy to hear people whistling the tune around the city. It was, after all, rather catchy.

---

One morning, Olive and I went on a shopping trip for healing potions in the trunk market. We stumbled upon a fantastic-looking shop with towering shelves stocked with all sorts of potions. It was a veritable library of glass bottles and vials filled with a wide array of coloured liquids.

A diminutive Luma with a pork pie hat on his head shuffled around with his hands buried inside voluminous sleeves. This place looked like exactly what we needed.

“Oh hello”, said the shopkeeper with a slight accent. “Yes, potions? How many? They are one-hundred gold pieces each.”

Olive tried to haggle him down but he was having none of it.

“You think these are cheap to make? I can do 70 gold pieces. No lower.”

I couldn’t believe how cruelly this Luma was trying to rip us off. He didn’t even seem to care that we were some of the heroes of Alderheart. I towered over the shopkeeper and showed him a glint of my rage.

“We know what a potion is worth,” I thundered. “Come on, Olive. We’re leaving.”

The next shop was not much better. It was similarly well-stocked but similarly staffed. We did accept the merchant’s loyalty card though, so we would always be able to find out way back to “City Potions” and even get our tenth potion free.

---

“I know just where to go,” said Crispin after hearing about our trouble finding a decent potion seller. “But first we need to sell Fray’s ring.”

After his shift at the soup kitchen we followed Crispin through the roots, again trying not to make eye contact with the less-savoury residents of Alderheart. He led us along a familiar track, squeezing through the narrow passageway between the trees, and then following the dilapidated trail to Deadstu’s Fine Taylors.

“Oh, just the right size,” said Deadstu as his webbed fingers explored the ruby-studded ring. He licked his eyes. “Perfect. I want it: name your price.”

Olive negotiated us a nice profit and then Crispin took us a little further down the street, past a boarded up building next door, to Hannibal’s Discount Potions.

Crispin strode inside while Olive and I followed at a distance trying not to gag as a fetid stench hit us. It was like walking into a wall of stink.

“Welcome,” croaked Hannibal. The toad was sitting at the shop counter beside a cauldron of bubbling brown liquid. “I’ve got the best potions in the roots. What are you shopping for?”

From where we were standing it appeared that his skin was covered in little brown corks. He was wearing a string vest and what we presumed to be shorts. He gave us all a slimy handshake in greeting and we hurriedly wiped ourselves clean on each other’s backs.

Crispin negotiated a bulk discount on potions which, knowing his feeble constitution, we would need. After we gave Hannibal the gold he rummaged through the corks protruding from his body and pulled five potion bottles out from holes in his skin. They made a horrific plopping sound as they came free.

“Nope,” said Olive. “Nope, no-no-no, nope.”

She scurried out of the shop. I was disgusted too, but not deterred.

“I don’t suppose you have any Potions of Firebreath?” I asked.

“Course I do,” Hannibal replied with a deep chuckle. “I keep them in the back.”

---

It took until the end of the week before anything momentous happened. I spent time sparring and getting used to the weight of my new armour and Crispin scavenged together materials to make a tiny helmet for Olive. But during a late breakfast at Eliza’s we finally received a summons.

“Um, we’ve been uh… sent from the Perch Guard,” said a adolescent Raptor wearing an ill-fitting Perch Guard uniform. “They say, err, you’ve gotta follow me.”

The youthful guard didn’t inspire much respect but we had been waiting for this call for a week so we didn’t challenge him.

He led us to the council chambers where the rest of the Alderheart forces were gathering. Speaker Bita was preparing to address the crowd. She looked tired, like her duties had stretched her too thin over the last seven days.

“As you know,” she said, once all were gathered, “the bandits are taking refuge in the Crest Mountains. There is a fortification there which we believe is their hideout and the location of their leader: Benna Seridan.”

There were assorted grumbles and jeers at the name. Speaker Bita gestured for silence.

“It is a very defensible position but we believe we now have the resources to deal with the bandits once and for all. I suggest you travel as one group for as long as you can, then split into your preferred formations on the last day of travels.”

The strategy seemed sound. We would be less susceptible to raids on the march but could still take the enemy by surprise on the last point of attack.

Speaker Bita took one last look at the Alderheart forces. “I wish you all the best of luck.”