What's wrong, Seymour?

[Oram Mednix]

24 Ashan 721

…continued from this thread

”This looks like a good spot,” suggested Oram.

The gray-haired ranger next to looked around. ”For the observation post, absolutely. We still need to find a campsite, though.”

Oram scowled and glanced over at Hop. ”Do *we* have to do that?

Rosser Hopkins thought a trill. ”Technically, no. But we have to know where it is, so we can find it ourselves if need be, without pestering whomever’s on watch.”

Oram nodded thoughtfully, realizing the sense in that. The sky peeking between the budding branches overhead was mostly light, although the sun had not yet cleared the mountains to the east. Wispy shreds of pre-dawn mist still clung here and there. The rest of the party, nine rangers in all, huddled quietly at the edge of the nearby clearing, shuffling next to their mounts.

Oram and Hop had figured out the trial before that they only actually needed one post, north of Rorn’s farm, to watch the roads leading east of the bridge from Scalvoris, as well as coming up from Egilrun. A second *camp*, with two trios of rangers, would set up northwest of the bridge; one team would watch the bridge, the other would patrol north of it for any fording activity. The bridge would soon become contentious, everybody knew, and both sides of the conflict would be looking for fording sites to circumvent it.

The traveler ran over this scheme in his head, deciding what to do next. ”How about we let this team set up and pick their own site,” he suggested, ”while we take the rest over the bridge to pick theirs. We can come back and inspect here when we’re done.”

Hop moved his index finger back and forth, indicating the additional shuttling he and Oram would have to do. ”That’ll add a bit more riding for you and me,” he observed, ”but it might be faster all the same, if we’re not supervising the building of two campsites. And it gives us more time to talk. I like it if you do.”

Once Oram had indicated that he did, Hop turned to the nearby knot of rangers. ”Atal!” he called out. He had a gift for projecting his voice without making a sharp, loud sound. ”Set up your observation post here. Set up a camp where you see fit. Mr. Mednix and I will inspect it upon our return from emplacing the other teams.”

Mr. Mednix. The formality made Oram uneasy, but the senior rangers had all assured him that such things were important, maybe even necessary.

The biqaj ranger nodded seriously, his eyes a steady, pearly grey. As Atal and his team led their horses deeper into the treeline, Hop and and Oram emerged into the clearing to mount their own equines. All of the party except Oram rode horses, who had declined a horse in favor of his familiar and beloved Mule.

The bridge was not that far away, not even a half-break’s ride. Hop had the party halt, and several of the rangers dismount and post security. These crouched a few paces away from the group with their bows in hands, arrows nocked. The remaining rangers, still mounted, automatically spread out. Oram, having been advised of this maneuver before they had set out, followed suit.

This was a security halt, routine enough. Something Hop had deemed wise to do before crossing the bridge. He, Oram, and all the Rangers looked around quietly, searching for any sign of pursuit, ambush, or other untoward thing. Oram looked west, out over the run and the bridge across it. Behind him, the sun was just starting to emerge from among the mountains, causing the party’s elongated shadows to stretch westward across the ground.

[Avalon]

Ashan 24, Arc 721

Everything seemed fine. Just fine. It was alllll good. Maybe.

As they left the first group, the rest rode towards the bridge and area in question that Oram wanted a closer look at. The ride was pleasant, and they made good time but as they approached the bridge, the group began to slow and check for anything out of the ordinary.

'Ordinary' might have been a bridge too far, almost literally as there was a bridge, but it wasn’t that far away.

Approaching the bridge, the first hint of weirdness appeared in the form of mushrooms. While mushrooms often did what they wanted, these mushrooms seemed to be something of a different beast. Were they…glowing? It was hard to tell in the light but something about their appearance was very wrong.

Appearances aside, they seemed to strangely situated. It would probably be a detail that escaped normal eyes, but the gaze of a ranger was a unique thing. Anyone familiar with the outdoors would certainly know that wild mushrooms often formed in clumps. So why were the oddities in front of them arranged in a straight line?

Another set of eyes noted a set of trees nearby, vines growing up said trees with a very specific type of night-blooming flower. It wouldn’t have been remarkable in the least if it weren’t for the fact that it was light out and the flowers were in full bloom.

And was it a trick of the shadows…but were there patches of purple grass?

As for people or activity, there was none to be found. The roads seemed quiet but if that was by coincidence or design was not apparent.

[Oram Mednix]

Incense and peppermints, the color of time

Weirdness appeared in the form of mushrooms, as it often did. Or so Oram had been told.

It was quiet; the break was still too early, perhaps, for traffic. But the lack of other sounds, especially birdsong, was odd. The season was young, as was the trial, yet there should have been some activity: the up and down warbling of a robin, the short, strident trill of a red-winged blackbird, *something*. Faced with the unusual silence, the horses snorted and flicked their ears uneasily, and even the rangers fidgeted slightly.

Somebody muttered and pointed out the mushrooms. Hop turned to look sharply at the ranger who had made the noise, but his look of reproach gave way to one of puzzlement as he saw the rank of glowing fungi. Oram followed suit, sidling Mule a couple paces out of line so that he could see from a better angle. The traveler had heard of glowing mushrooms and even luminous moss, but he had never anything of the sort outside some of the weirder stretches of the Sweetwine. He regarded the mushrooms for a couple trills, but then turned his attention back westward towards the bridge.

Here, more odd things met the eye. A clump of trees had vines with flowers in full bloom. And dark, bruise-colored patches of grass. The latter might have been a trick of the play of light and shadow from the shallow-angled sunlight. Oram found himself peering at these anomalies with an intent frown, as if trying to decipher an unfamiliar animal track or a difficult passage of text. Other rangers did the same, although no one spoke after that first hushed comment.

Hop broke from the spell first. He stirred and quietly ordered the dismounted rangers to remount. ”All this is very curious,” he said, ”but it doesn’t change what we have to do.” Oram roused and nodded, although he did not immediately take his eyes off the odd vines. He wanted to investigate the odd flora, but it would best wait until after he and Hop had finished placing the rest of the rangers.

Eventually, the party resumed its ride; already alert, they seemed even more keyed-up now than before as they prepared to cross the bridge. Oram himself took point and crossed alone on Mule. Once he got to the other end, the hunter circled about slowly, still looking about, casting an eye on the water, as well. Once he was satisfied there was nothing else untoward, he signaled Hop to start sending the other rangers across, one at a time.

[Avalon]

Ashan 24, Arc 721

Leaving the curiosities behind for the time, the group decided to forge on to the bridge. It was a fine day and fresh air was always good for the mind and body. It even was said that one’s soul could be rejuvenated simply by taking in the scenery of the open road. Whether or not Oram or any of his companions felt particularly rejuvenated would be up to them, but that’s what was said! Maybe it was even true.

As the group was soon to discover, curiosities and weirdness had a habit of following one. Or maybe it was just them. Hard to say. If they thought they would escape such things by moving out of the previous area, they were mistaken. Every step they took on the way to the bridge yielded a new item of interest. Glowing rocks. Plants that seemed to have the roots growing out of the tops instead of in the ground. Even something that looked like a newly emerged rock formation that seemed to be growing around a tree.

Again, as before, everything seemed, oddly enough…orderly? Groups of things were arranged just so…or lined up in some order for a purpose Oram couldn’t decipher. Were they all connected or separate instances of unexplainable natural phenomena? How could he even begin to tell?

All very good questions….

The nuttiness dogged the group until they reached the bridge. With an abundance of caution, people were sent over one at a time until everyone was on the other side. As they waited for their turn, or for the rest of the group to cross, the horses pawed at the ground a bit. There was no sign of trouble or concern at any point.

Well…other than the ground itself and the patches of sparkly black dirt. Or the large bushes growing out of the streambed underneath the bridge where they certainly didn’t belong. Or even possibly the patch of giant lily pads floating down the stream beneath the bridge…but other than that, no signs of trouble or concern whatsoever.

[Oram Mednix]

Cellophane flowers of yellow and green…

The odd appearances multiplied. Everything the wrong color, the wrong sort, the wrong arrangement. And it was all flora. Where were the animals? Granted, most creatures would avoid a party of six mounted men, but there should still be birds about, the early season robins or, failing that, at least crows.

So far, though, there was nothing else untoward. Oram crossed the bridge without event, and then the next couple rangers, who immediately dismounted and posted security without so much as being told. Hop waited to go last, securing the far side until all the others were across. The Rangers all know what to do without me, Oram thought, feeling inadequate.

”HALT!” shouted Hop suddenly, rousing the traveler from his thoughts. The old veteran pointed at the vegetation under the bridge. Clumps of large bushes rose out of the streambed immediately under the bridge, and large lily pads floated down the stream. Oram considered the lily pads. They toiled not, although some of them did spin slowly as they drifted towards the bridge. One ranger on each side quietly unslung a bow and nocked an arrow.

Everyone waited. After about half a bit, when nothing else happened, Hop signaled for the the rest of the Rangers to cross. Then, finally, the grey-haired ranger went over himself. Once everyone was across, the next order of business was to set down the observation post that would overlook the bridge. Finding a good site proved a bit challenging, Oram and Hopkins both agreed that they would need a spot with good cover, good visibility, and preferably normal-looking vegetation. The last requirement was proving increasingly hard to meet.

At length, they had picked out a site and set a ranger down on it. The remaining rangers would look for a campsite for the six of them. Both the bridge-watching team and the freely-patrolling “floater” team would operate out of the same camp. As the remaining five rangers went off to find the site, Oram and Hop dismounted and went off about twenty paces to talk.

”Well, Mr. Mednix,” Hop said: ”We have something new and interesting to investigate. How do you want to proceed?”

Oram’s eyes turned back towards the bridge, and the vegetation that seemed especially clumped around it. ”I think the main task of investigating all this curious plant life should fall to us, Ranger Hopkins,” he said, stressing the title slightly. Rangers and Elements both had this thing about formalities. Why couldn’t people just call him ‘Oram’?

”As I already confided in you, I have an interest in the colored sands around the island, and there are apparently some inland dunes of the red stuff around here. So checking out all these weird plants is close enough to what I had planned you and me to do, anyway. I just wasn’t expecting to do it this close to the bridge.”

Hop looked over the hunter’s shoulder at the retreating group of rangers. The one left observing the bridge had already found a decent spot, and was already invisible to casual eyes crossing the bridge from this direction. ”How does this change our instructions to the other patrols?” Hop asked.

Oram shook his head. ”I don’t think it does, really. I still want them looking for fording sites, and for anyone who might be trying to use such to avoid the bridge. We can add noting unusual flora and/or fauna to their instructions, but only at the bottom of the list.”

Hop considered that for a moment, then grunted his agreement. ”Where do we start?” he asked.

Oram looked at the bridge. ”Right here. I want to examine this stuff growing right next to the bridge more carefully.”

Taking his spear from Mule’s side, Oram approached the bushes under the bridge to examine them more closely. Prodding into the vegetation cautiously with the butt.

[Avalon]

Ashan 24, Arc 721

Well, the birds were still there, although it would seem to an experienced ranger that their numbers had dwindled. Whether or not that was due to the multitude of other odd occurrences was not clear. If the rangers scouted about, they would note other animals in the area and to their knowledge, nothing appeared to be off about them. No purple frogs or glittering raccoons in the immediate vicinity.

As Hop brought everyone to a halt, the plants that had caused such drama seemed rather unimpressed, simply continuing to do their thing, rather unaware that they were being targeted because...well....they were plants.

As a lookout spot was found and plans were discussed/arranged, the rangers would note that not too far away was a small hill. There was nothing of note on the hill, simply a moderate rise in the terrain that allowed a decent view of the area. Beyond that, there was nothing of note that they hadn't already seen and nothing that would hinder their movements or plans.

Oram and Hop had their little chat, solidifying their game-plan. Once they finished, Oram's curiosity about the plants under the bridge began to be sated with a few pokes of his spear butt, producing nothing of note.

It wasn't before long though that he began to hear a voice. It certainly wasn't coming from the water or plants. It seems to be...coming...from the sky?

"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!!!!! This isn't good. This isn't good at all! Oh dear, oh dear! This is all wrong! I don't like this. I don't like this at all!"

Out of the sky, flapping down to the railing on the bridge, was a curious creature. A very upset, curious creature....with the most adorable little backpack in all of Idalos.

"I'm so sorry. So sorry. Ruffin McGuffin, at your service. I just don't like this at all. Don't you see? Everything's wrong. I can see everything's wrong. Nothing should be like this!" They don't do that.

What the bird was referring to, for the moment, would remain a mystery. As would how it was talking...

[Oram Mednix]

Sittin on nuffin, and it was laffin

The rangers seemed to be finding their way, even with all the vegetable oddities around them; moreover, Oram’s prodding and closer examination of the flora clustering near the bridge turned up nothing of note besides the odd growth itself. The traveler still didn’t like it, though. Too many hiding places close to the bridge. He wondered what the last team would find, once it started patrolling the water further downstream for additional fording sites.

"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!!!!! This isn't good. This isn't good at all!" A small voice came from above, and Oram raised his head from beneath the bridge to look at a curious bird as it fluttered down and landed on the railing. The hunter clambered up the bank for a closer look. He quickly realized that he had heard aright: the bird was talking. Could it actually converse, or was it just mimicking things it had heard? Oram, after exchanging a baffled look with Hop, decided to approach the creature and find out.

The bird was large-ish, with black and white coloring and a large colorful beak. As it waddled along the railing, Oram noted it had webbed feet. He had seen such birds, but never this far inland. Unlike seagulls, puffins didn’t fly far from their seaside colonies. But this one had. They didn’t usually speak, either, but this one did. They also didn’t typically wear backpacks. Yet this one…did?

Smiling, Oram recalled his first encounter with Bao. Greetings, Ruffin McGuffin,” he said, restraining himself from chuckling as he spoke: ”I am Oram. What do you mean? What shouldn’t be like what? What shouldn’t do what?” He gestured to the colorful landscape around them. ”I and the other rangers have seen many unusual things this trial. Mushrooms in long lines, grasses and flowers of the wrong color and size. Is that what you speak of, or something else?”

He looked back at the creature, cocking his head curiously, to hear what it had to say. Did it really know how to speak, how to articulate and follow a line of thought, the way cadouri did? Or was it more like a parrot? How it responded, assuming that it did, would give the traveler a clearer idea.

[Avalon]

Ashan 24, Arc 721

Ruffin McGuffin, polite as he was, simply couldn't stop pacing the railing of the bridge.

"A pleasure, Mr.Oram. I wish we were meeting under better circumstances. Yes, better circumstances. It just isn't right. Many strange things I've seen. You've seen them too? Good....this is good then. I got here as fast as I could but I had to stop at the top of that hill to catch my breath. I'm not used to flying so far, but it's important. Very important."

Taking briefly to the sky again, their newest little companion flew straight up, hovered for just a moment, and straight back down onto the railing. continuing his pacing. " Nature isn't like that. It's not orderly. It must mean something but I know not what. Nature allows for randomness, even encourages it. This isn't. It's almost as if you could....no. Maybe not. You can only see small pieces of the puzzle down here. Very small. You need the bigger picture."

Hopping down to the ground, just off the bridge, Ruffin McGuffin hopped along a trail of purple grass...that connected to a patch of sparkly, odd-looking soil...that connected to the foliage under the bridge...that came out on the other side of the bridge with another trail of purple grass.

"It's all connected. You need the bigger picture, Mr. Oram. Make a bigger picture...."

[Oram Mednix]

…and when you touch down, you'll find that it's stranger than known

Oram listened. Oram scowled. Oram looked at Hop. He scowled again, and Hop scowled, too. Then the traveler looked back at the chattering puffin, scowling. He had questions. And scowls.

”If you don’t mind, let’s back up a bit,” he said, trying to calm Ruffin down. ”Where did you come from? When and where did you notice the strange things that drove you to come here? And why did you then decide to come *here*, when it’s such a long way for you to fly?”

Oram glanced questioningly up at the older ranger. Rosser Hopkins had more experience with questioning people about things they had seen -“debriefing” them, as he called it- than the hunter did. The veteran nodded approvingly, while giving a little gesture to suggest that Oram should stop there and not load up the little guy with even more questions. The pair waited to see what the bird had to say.

Listening on, Oram noted that Ruffin was saying that there was a pattern to this oddity, a pattern that might be meaningful seen from higher up. He needed a “bigger picture”, the talking bird insisted, flying up and down to demonstrate his point. Well, Oram couldn’t fly. Nor, as far as he knew, could Hop or any of the other rangers with him. So how would they do this? The hunter looked quizzically once more at Hop. The older ranger mused a second..

”A map!” he exclaimed suddenly. ”We debrief patrols using a map all the time. So, let’s ask our friend to help us make one.” He started to look about him on the ground, Oram wasn’t sure for what.

Oram looked at the bird. ”I’m not entirely sure how my friend plans to do this, but I’m sure he’ll explain in just a few trills. Would you be willing to help us make a map of what you’ve seen, flying overhead?”

Hop got down on one knee and picked up something small. Several somethings. Oram couldn’t see right away what those objects were. He stood up with a slight grunt, holding several bright, small stones in his hand, then walked over to another patch of ground, where he resumed his search.

”If Mr. McGuffin says ‘Yes’,” he suggested as he bent down again, ”why don’t you find us a flat stretch of sand where we can make us a sand table. He can pace out the patterns he saw and we can scratch ‘em onto the sand. Draw us a map.”

Oram then realized what Hop was looking for: he was collecting things to use as markers, things to represent stuff like the dark soil or the purple grass. Oram looked at the bird. ”I think that sounds like a good idea. Let’s make us a sand table.” He then set off to pick out a patch of flat, bare, preferably sandy ground on which to draw his map. While Hop finished collecting his markers, Oram would level off the sand table.

[Avalon]

Ashan 24, Arc 721

There, apparently, was much scowling to be had.

Ruffin McGuffin, the puffin, continued to pace the railing as the man spoke to him, undeterred by the scowling, words, and attempts to calm him. He did, however, answer their questions. “I flew here from the water, that way..” The direction he pointed with his wing, if they referred to the map they were using, pointed in a northwesterly direction, towards Immortal’s Tongue. “I was flying around, enjoying the trial, and I saw things that couldn’t be. Oddities. I decided to fly inland and see if I could figure out what was happening and I kept seeing more. I had to stop a lot, to rest. I followed the strangeness here when I found you all. It’s not right. Nothing’s right…”

The bird said nothing when they mentioned the map, only looking up from his pacing when Oram addressed him correctly. “A map? Certainly. But I’m unsure what you want from me. I can see things…but so can you.”

If one were to glance around and look, especially with a ranger's eye, they would begin to see something strange. The oddities weren't spread about necessarily. There was a pattern - they just couldn't see it.

Hopping down from the railing, Ruffin flew over to where Hop was, watching him carefully. Turning around, the bird glanced at Oram, considering him as he waved his feathered wing at the hill nearby that he had referenced earlier. “You could send someone there too. It’s not far and I saw a lot from on top of it. It goes higher than I can fly?” The bird sounded uncertain but seemed willing to help with whatever the men decided.