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"I was not able to meet with Sayer on this yet." Corwynn replied. "I have confidence that he'll want to get to the end of this as much as I do." He continued as he tore a piece of meat off with his teeth. Though he was nobility he was the sort of man that had little need for pomp in his daily life. Jarmok could clearly see that, at heart, the Duke was a man that preferred the wild expanse- Fionndougal as well.

"Well talk with Sayer later this morning. For now, enjoy the quiet scenery and good food my friend for soon we will be heading back." stated the Duke.

Off to Jarmok's right was the not too distant sound of boats casting off onto Vallensun Lake for their daily netting of fish.

Corwynn found a strange amusement in Jarmok's broken use of the common tongue. It wasn't a mocking fascination but rather he saw it as an honest attempt with an honest intent. He sensed that Jarmok was far more honest with his limited ability than many others with a fluent ability. Jarmok had no means to twist words to manipulate anyone and that fact alone brought Corwynn comfort.

"It is an unfortunate thing, Jarmok, when you find someone untrustworthy...find them a betrayer. The open eye is better no matter what it sees. Speaking of which, Sayer can definitely help you find answers. I would not advise for you alone to try and follow this trail." Corwynn surmised. He knew that Sergeant Farkus was guilty for his part. How deep did the deception go? "Sayer will be able to help you as he knows...things. How he knows I'm still mystified by. He has a way of him...it's what he does and who he is."

Kossuth was now elegantly splashing across the mountains and the boats had set out on Vallensun Lake for their daily haul. Around them was the melodic chirping of birds and the comforting smell of an open fire. Distant sounds from the hamlet occasi9oanlly mingled with the birds. Behind them they could hear Fionndougal eagerly munching away on the clovers that carpeted the ground.

"The village is called Adryanna's Landing. T'would be a nice place to live methinks." Corwynn said to himself as much as he did to Jarmok as he gobbled up another piece of morning feast meat.

Ashe's mind began to race and his fingers twitch. The twitching he could not control as a result of his time with the Seers. Even still, this many years later, when his thoughts raced and he began to see beyond, his uncontrollable trembles- a renowned signature of Seers- would haunt him. "We will want to meet with the Gnacheons of the other steward nations and tribes." Ashe stated plainly.

"I mentioned to you of Zyxu's minions poisoning and corrupting a sacred grove of trees back at Threshold" Ashe stated certainly. "I'm afraid that it goes beyond just that." Ashe looked around and it seemed as though the forest itself was still and quiet so to listen.

"Circular plots of ash have been found in the woods just out of the town. These plots, of course, don't just appear, they were made." Ashe proclaimed. "The Wasteland of Archea was once part of the great forest but fell to the life draining powers of The Void. It would not at all surprise me to learn that the wasteland has begun to grow again." He whispered with a an overtone of sorrow.

"You have been the keeper of the Vallenbrush and I of the Vallenwood seed which has been passed to Maccabeus. We meet now as though the wood and brush have been reunited in this hallowed place..." the old druid prophetized."...this hallowed place...to set plans to purify that most of unhallowed ground. As you speak of, that may be the only way...by joining both brush and wood." Ashe pondered aloud.

"The other Gnarcheons will want to hear of this and they may have some stories for us as well methinks." Ashe's mind began to focus and his spirit bolster. Now was not the time for despair; now was the time for planning for a fight. "It may be terrifying to learn the truth of what they speak...and I say to that we must be all that Mahiya has taught us to be."

"Can you call them to your den?" he asked with an enthusiastic grin. "Perhaps the Vallenbrush here could send them a whisper..."

As Jarmok told his unembellished tale, Corwynn's fears came to fruition. A trusted soldier was now a traitor. When Sayer spoke of a discrepancy (Game Log-Session 14 Part 2) it was likely that he would face this moment. "Sergeant Farkus was the officer to escort the Councilers back to Threshold." Corwynn said somberly. "Are you sure there were no others...that it was a man on horseback? There can be no doubt on this if I'm to pursue a course of action on this matter." Corwynn thought quickly on the situation. Even if Sergeant Farkus wasn't directly responsible for or witness to the death of the squad of soldiers and the napping of the councilers he was somehow involved. Why else would he return claiming their safe passage? He was guilty in some way and that was enough reason for the Arch-Duke of Kurr to unleash his lawful, merciless wrath.

Having convinced himself of Farkus's guilt, Corwynn moved on to another concern without Jarmok's confirmation of a mounted rider. "The couriers...they concern me as they do Sayer. All correspondence is overseen by Herald Sabine. Given that no one in my court can be trusted except for Sayer and my wife I think that the inquiries should start with her and follow the course of logic and instinct." Corwynn believed that despite logic and instinct being opposites, they could work together and achieve a mutual goal.

"Sayer and Sabine have worked closely in the past and they are friends so I'll ask that you keep an objective point of view. This is not to claim that Sayer won't but only to ensure that prejudgments are mitigated."

"Somedays the adversaries we face are more elusive than the ones on the battlefield." Corwynn said to Jarmok in a tone that was the most serious. "They have plans and schemes and often strike from the shadows. Somedays they are the shadows. Worst of all, they could be ones you've trusted."

The Duke turned to Jarmok and handed him a cold mug of water. "I need for you and Sayer to follow the trail of deception in my court. My letters never reached Sayer in Threshold and his never arrived. Clearly there is someone cutting communications. What worries me further is not knowing how long it's been happening." Corwynn admitted. "The good thing in all of this is that they didn't anticipate that Threshold would come here. If they were smart they would have let some of the correspondence through and we would not have known just yet."

"For me to track this myself would betray the veil of ignorance they believe surrounds this matter. Not to mention that my presence would shy people into lying for fear of punishment. It must be Sayer and yourself that reveals the betrayal. You both may have insight that isn't blinded by the want to trust." Corwynn confessed. His tone was both one of anger and sadness. Jarmok could see that he obviously pained by the situation of not knowing who he could trust. The mere fact that he was putting his trust in someone whom he met only a day prior was testimony to his desperation in the matter.

"If you decline my request I'll understand. I'm a self reliant man and so I'm loathe to even ask you. My wife reminds me that discretion is the better part of valor. So I ask you with humility. Please, help me find the deceivers."

Corwynn grinned warmly as he chewed the spiced meat. Hearing Jarmok speak of Mercer was just the sort of reassurance he needed as he wasn't ever confident in Julius's judgment in character. Corwynn should have known by the axe that Jarmok carried that he was worthy of trust. It was, after all, the axe that Mercer had carried.

"I know well of Mercer. He is as an uncle to me...a close friend indeed. I see you have the axe he once carried. That is a sacred trust methinks." Corwynn said as much to himself as to Jarmok.

"I welcome you to my cabin Jarmok! I come here to relax and think away from the city." Corwynn professed. "Not that I hate the city mind you...but sometimes it's good to get away. I'm glad you thought of it truth be told. It's a nice way to spend the morning."

"I assume that Mercer has taken to the wilderness now...which would be why you now carry the axe. He spoke once of doing that. Only he needed someone worthy of taking his place. You, my friend, have earned the respect of one of the finest foresters of this age by carrying that weapon." The copper haired duke stated.

"It's because of that imparted trust that I must ask something of you."

The mystery of the ranger sitting next to him grasped and squeezed the Duke's curiosity. Between his exotic appearance, broken common, soft demeanor, and obvious foreign origin, Jarmok was fascinating to him. There was an innocence about him that Corwynn admired. Being the ruler of a city state, innocence was not a trait that Corwynn often witnessed in the politics he often dealt with.

Corwynn understood Jarmok to be a private individual not indulging in detail either because of his loose grasp of common language or because that was his personality. Still, he had to know more; he had to be sure.

"Late Rynnyx...that's a tough bit of the year to be wandering especially towards the mountains. More notably, towards those mountains." Corwynn bit of a huge hunk of meat and chewed just enough to speak without his words getting garbled. "How did you survive that harshness of the season in the mountains? Many expert woodsman wouldn't dare do what you did for fear their skill was wanting and they'd perish."

As Jarmok approached, Corwynn said, "Look to the south my friend and behold the magnificence of the mountains. They always take my breath away. The two taller peaks there? Those are the entrance to the legendary valley. My great-by-eight grandmother helped free that valley from it's evil long ago. Please, come warm yourself by the fire and enjoy some breakfast."

Jarmok could see the two snowy peaks rising above all others. They ambitiously reached for the sky and the very tops of the peaks were barely being kissed by Kossuth. It was a meeting of the four elements in one dance. The surrounding mountains looked sharp and jagged like earthy fangs. It made sense that this stretch of mountain spine was known as the Dragonteeth Mountains. Some of the rumors that Jarmok had heard in Threshold was that the range had it's name for more reasons than cosmetic ones.

The lake was smooth and looked as soft as silk and offered a chance to see the toothy range twice. It reflected the mountains, sky, and trees perfectly. By the size of the lake it was difficult to see the other side with any ease. It would often prove to be a treacherous body of water in an angry storm although it seemed inviting right now.

It was a serene scene and a vision of peace that Jarmok came to know at his own cabin in Threshold. The smell of the food and the fire begged Jarmok to take comfort.

The significance of the five circles was by no means lost on Ashe. Only recently had Dale spoken about the fifth child. The fifth child of Nyx...of Mahiya. Coming here was no coincidence, no accident. Not because he was purposely brought here but rather because the unfolding events though seemed random were all very much tied together. Coincidence was the excuse of the mundane who could not open their mind and truly see, hear, and most importantly, feel.

As Ashe allowed the majesty of the moment to evolve he delighted in watching Shankaria also enjoy the moment. The significance of it all was not lost on her either, he sensed, though he was quite reserved in asking her what her perception of it was. Perhaps he didn't really need to. While she might be unaware of the events unfolding in Threshold and in the so-called civilized world it was all part and parcel of the same thing- change.

Ashe glanced from side to side and observed the peculiar "trees" watching over the tiny grove. The spidery threads that crossed on high glimmered in the waning glow of Kossuth. The scent of damp, rich soil was intoxicating. Ashe was nearly hypnotized by the Vallenbrush's little wisps of light.

"Shankaria, the rarity of the Vallenbrush is remarkable that can not be denied. In days of old did the wood and brush ever grow alongside each other? For none that I know of grow in the Valley of Mist. Oh what a most blessed and hallowed ground that would be if the two together!"

Corwynn and Fionndougal traversed the trail quickly and came upon a clearing at the large lakes edge. Ahead of him was a modest hamlet built on the lake's shore. It had a handful of buildings with a small stone keep only a few stories high. On the shore of the lake were at least twice as many boats as buildings betraying what the prime trade was in this little village. With the sky brightening it was easier to see the cultivated fields that enveloped the village and already the roosters were crowing about the new day.

"My friend..." Corwynn said to his steed, "We do not come here nearly often enough." The horse sneezed in response. "Not the answer I expected but neither does it surprise me." He mused.

The duke dismounted and began to walk towards the cozy community Fionndougal walking with him- not behind or ahead. Looking towards the tower he could see two guards manning the top as he anticipated. The worn road split as they approached. One road went towards the hamlet proper and the other banked to the left away from the community. The duke walked to the left.

After a very short while and a jaunt out of the village clearing and through the wooded road Corwynn came upon a cabin on the lakes shore. The cabin was nothing fancy but it did have a dock accompanied by a boat that bumped the dock with every calm wave. The duke encouraged the destrier to eat his fill of sweet clovers that grew on what land was cleared for the cabin but not before he grabbed the sack of food that he brought from Kurr.

Before too long, Corwynn had a fire blazing in the cabins fire pit.

(OOC. The cabin looks very much like the rural cabins in Threshold's highland areas- like Jarmok's/Mercer's cabin)

Fionndougal charged as though he was a lightning bolt sent to the ground by Paladine itself. It had been a long while since the stallion had the chance to express what he knew was his birthright magnificence.

Corwynn laughed uncontrollably at his steed. He understood the horse had an ego that was barely tamed. Not tamed he thought better, rather the horse was simply well behaved. He came to understand that the anxiety his horse felt always being in the city must be kindred to Jarmok's. Jarmok! The Duke looked back to see that Jarmok was back a distance running at his own swift pace. There really was nothing quite like the freedom of the open road with infinite possibilities ahead of you Corwynn thought.

Figuring that Jarmok was more than capable of locating the trail of the spirited horse, Corwynn pushed the steed on. It was shortly thereafter that the city clearing submitted to the natural forest and the Duke found himself racing on the road under a thick canopy of trees. It was a well worn road that led directly to one of Kurr's two sister cities, New Jarla- the once center of the now extinct kingdom of Vychia. New Jarla still held an aged but noble majesty about it as an elder would have among his grown children. The other city, Aldebaron, rest further east towards Kazbourne. The three great cities made up the Tri State of Vychia and while not the epicenter of the City State Alliance still commanded a respect akin to the kingdom of old.

The tunnel of leaves that shrouded the road made it almost hard to see. Kossuth, it seemed, was being a lazy deity this particular morning. The Duke knew well enough that it was his own perception of the morning and that nothing odd was actually happening with the morning light. The shadows were dark enough to almost obscure the entrance columns that led to their destination. By this time Corwynn had relaxed the gallop of the mighty destrier despite the protest and eagerness of the horse to continue at full stride. He stopped briefly at the ornamented stone columns that were topped with detailed carvings of howling wolves and wondered if he should wait for the sprinting ranger. With a wry smile he coaxed Fionndougal down the well worn trail.

As long as it does the job then it's a good map. Is there a scale?

Corwynn, still mounted on Fionndougal, patted his large steed on the neck and asked him, "It's been a while my friend...I pray you've not forgotten how to charge? Come Jarmok, let us run!" The horse reared up and whinnied- though Jarmok with his acute hearing may have also heard the low notes of a growl- kicking it's front legs with a wild look in his eye. The Duke raised his fist and shouted a "Hyah!" and charged through the gate hoping that Jarmok took the cue.

The garrison of soldiers that were in the square under inspection by Bridget all admitted their awe. Some with gasps, others with an exclaimation, and still others with a primal scream. Already running full tilt and through the gate, Jarmok could hear the girl-warrior administering her discipline on the outspoken soldiers. From the sounds of it, they were now in for a rough day.

Upon exiting the gate Jarmok could immediately see the farmland that supported the city. It looked so very much like Little Threshold with the open fields, barns, and hamlets of houses that it almost seemed that they were, in fact, there. The road they traveled westward was lined with majestic trees with boughs that brushed the ground. They were a bit back from the road which allowed them to stretch without encroaching on the road itself. The leaves were reaching their dark summer green and with branches unhindered by pruning, the trees were full and round like Istisha shining every month. The trunks of the trees were thick and knobbed betraying their age. They would make for good climbing trees if Jarmok ever had to scout from them for any particular reason.

Corwynn wasn't pushing Fionndougal to his potential for fear of getting too far ahead of his guest. He glanced back to see that Jarmok was not at all far behind and was shocked to find him closer than he expected! This unusual ranger had again surprised him despite previously seeing that he had some speed about him. Laughing with his astonishment the Duke quickened the steeds pace to see how far he could push the ranger. Also the Duke was hungry and the food was only getting cold.

The look of the city changed as Jarmok and the Duke traveled the streets. Around the keep seemed obviously well kept and polished. As the two ventured further out away from the keep the city looked more as how people really lived. Not dirty or smelly but more as lived in house- less showy and more comfortable.

Soon the western gate came in to view. Corwynn could feel Jarmok's anticipation for passing beyond and into the open field and road. He truly sympathized with the out-of-place ranger as he often wished to ride beyond the gates more than he had in recent months.

A contingent of guards had gathered at the gate and all were dressed similarly. They were in a formation and there was one dressed in finer armor marching back and forth performing an inspection. Even from this distance Jarmok could see a shock of long red hair flowing in the breeze. The voice was stern and commanding and offered no sympathy. "Oh those poor souls. My daughter's gotten a hold of them. Paladine help them if they so much as blink too loudly or clear their throat." The duke chuckled to Jarmok.

"Look lively soldiers! Your Arch-Duke approaches!" the woman called out to the garrison. Upon seeing Corwynn they all stood a little straighter and saluted in unison. Corwynn mounted Fionndougal and saluted back. "Fine looking troops we have here, Bridget" Corwynn commented knowing full well that addressing her by her name in front of the troops would annoy her. "And fine troops they will stay if I have anything to say of it, Dad." Bridget remarked back with a wink and a brogue that Jarmok couldn't help but notice.

"Ride well or stay off the horse, Dad." the young woman said as she leaned towards her father. She looked to be of the same age as Kym Wolfjaw and no doubt was friends with her given the prestige of each family. In a voice that could only be heard by Corwynn and Jarmok she asked, "Out to the cabin, eh?"

"Yes, I have things to discuss with our friend here and I need to get us out of the keep before we both go outside our minds." The woman spied Jarmok and held out her hand in greetings, "Welcome to Kurr good sir. I hope that we may become better acquainted before you return south." Looking back at her father she playfully commanded, "Get thee gone sir...and be quick of it."

Turning to Jarmok the Duke asked, "Are you ready to run my friend?"

Ashe absorbed the song of the Vallenbrush and felt an energy deep within. There was a connection, a pure and primitive synergy with the elegant shrub. This was the second instance in a short span of time that Ashe experienced such a thing. First was the sprouting of Vallen at the Ring of Mists and now the Vallenbrush.

Ashe recalled always having a link to this ancient sentience but hadn't always had the chance to embrace it.

"You have a gift Ashe, you're brother does too. It's a rare gift that should be given it's deserved attention" Zachary, his father, said. "It will expand the consciousness of all races and bring us closer to Mahiya in all it's forms."

"You have the gift too Dad. Why do you not consult the Seers?" Ashe, only just ten years old, inquired.

"Because I have been blessed with Zebulon. My path is different than your's son. I have a consciousness within unlike any in many generations has experienced. It's my charge to see that Zebulon does what Mahiya needs done. Do not think I don't understand your reverence for Mahiya...and you should always keep it's life close to you. You now have the chance to bring forth the inherent power of one's mind and study under Sebsation Sylvanwood and Master Spitzbergen."

"While they both are quite wise and knowledgeable, The song of Mahiya I hear...it calls to me...never to be silenced." The impetuous boy replied.

Smiling, Zachary, a Chosen One of The Valley, said, "And neither should you ignore it...ever. Ashe, my dear boy, the world will awaken through you and your brother. I see that while your path is with Mahiya you shall seek it's wisdom on two trails. First, your mind must learn what your heart knows. Watch after Valakai. He'll need you."

Ashe's thoughts returned back to his present situation at the Vallenbrush. He took in a deep breath of the wooded air. It was the scent of his soul. Intoxicating and rich it made him concentrate on his breathing. His mind focused and he could hear surrounding thoughts. The very spirit of this place was nearly overwhelming.

Realizing that his eyes had been closed for a bit of a while he opened them. To his delight, he noticed something that he'd not seen upon his arrival- a fey ring of violet mushrooms circling the base of the Vallenbrush.