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The Lost Stars ChronicleChapter 23: Otto's Fire
Otto woke up. It was still dark out and the campfire he had built was down to embers. Shivering, he got up from his position and began to button his coat back on. He could not remember it being this cold in his lifetime in this area. Downright unnatural it was. Bending over to reach his pack, he knocked over one of the two poles that formed the temporary lean-to he had built that night. The fragile structure fell on his back, the fir branches scratching his face. Otto swore under his breath as he got up again.
A minute later he continued his course, keeping his back to the slowly rising sun. He was headed to Orion. Sales were bad back home and it only seemed logical that his array of silverware, watches, pots, pans, and other trinkets would sell better in the still hard-off city of Orion. Otto was certainly glad he had brought his snowshoes. Trudging through a seemingly endless white landscape, his appearance seemed to be that of an explorer discovering the antipodes instead of a trader traveling through civilized country. To the south, there was what seemed to be a small black bump with wisps of smoke rising from it – undoubtedly a town or large village.
That evening Otto estimated that he had covered eight miles. Not bad for the conditions that he was in. As with last night, he cut down a few nearby branches with his small axe and made a lean-to covered with the sharp prickly braches of pines that seemed to grow in abundance in the area. Building a fire, he opened a smaller pack pulling out two biscuits, some dried beef, and a flask of the near-legendary Crusader ale. Placing the meat between the two thin loaves he started to eat. It was dark now and the fire cast eerie shadows on the trees that surrounded him. From his peripheral vision he thought he saw something move. Otto jerked his head but saw nothing. Then he saw it again – a black shape moving through the woods, then two more. Squinting his eyes, Otto thought they looked like large – dogs? A howling interrupted his thoughts – they were undoubtedly wolves. Oddly enough though, they seemed to ignore him, continuing their way without even a break in step.
Curious, the trader shoveled the rest of his food into his mouth and picked up a lantern, lighting it from the fire. Loosening his long dagger, he soon found the trail and followed it. A mile on, he began to hear noises of howling and yapping mingled with shouts and calls. Someone was obviously in trouble. Otto had encountered wolves once before, when he was in his twenties. It would be too dangerous to try to help whoever was in distress in any direct way – he would have to try something else.
What Anardan and Voolmark weren’t ready for was carnage. Sure, both of them had been many battles before, but not one as one-sided. Two dozen wolves lay in vary forms of dismemberment and disembowelment in a circle around two weary and blood-splattered persons. There were still endless wolves charging from the trees and ganging up on Bjarn and Dractor individually, forced the two men away from their back-to-back position.
Without hesitation, Anardan charged into the fray, but not before Voolmark sent a blast into the clearing, stunning both wolves and Bjarn and Sir Dractor. Anardan leaped forward and sliced off the head of a charging wolf and gutting another, swinging his gleaming sword with both hands for maximum damage. Voolmark passed the wolves by and dropped to his knees beside the two fallen fighters, his robes soaking in the blood of both human and wolf. The wizard uncorked a bottle and poured it over a nasty gash in Bjarn’s right arm. Bjarn moaned and blinked his eyes.
“Voolmark...?”
“Hush now, Bjarn, and let this soak in…”
Bjarn looked to where the liquid was already healing the skin and cleansing it of clotted blood.
“That’s like Reno’s old healing balm…” Bjarn muttered, not really talking to anyone.
As Voolmark rubbing the healing potion over the rest of Bjarn and then Dractor, Captain Anardan fraught bravely on, protecting his comrades with every sweep of his blade. However, there were simply too many and Anardan was, like the two before him, slowly being worn out.
Then the fire started. It went slowly at first, for the tree was soaked through with snow, but a orange light followed by a increasing heat filtered through the trees and touched both the wolves and their victims. The wolves began to whimper and snuffle about, their snouts taking in the smoky breeze. Suddenly the wolves were gone, disappeared deep into the woods where the fire wouldn’t reach them. They had a right to be scared, for it appeared the fire had been light from five separate locations and was now burning inward, closing in on the abandoned men. Anardan grinned in relief, then swore in shock as he realised what danger they all were in.
“Voolmark, let’s go!” he cried, and gestured at the advancing flames.
Voolmark stood and, with another surge of Earth Magic, raised Bjarn and Sir Dractor into the air. Then he turned and began to exit the woods, guiding the two wounded men behind him. Anardan hesitated a moment, and then grabbed two wolf carcasses and dragged them along as well. At least they would get some meat.
Otto looked at his handiwork. Yes, burning the woods had been a good idea, though a risky one. Dousing the his remaining flaming stick in the snow, he hefted his pack and trudged toward the camp where four figures lay huddled. It was time to introduce himself. Making his way to the group, Otto stood for a moment, not quite sure what to do. Rubbing his brow, he was about to speak but was quickly interrupted by Anardan.
“Who is it over there? Come out so I can see you.”
The Forestman was obviously a bit jumpy now, he was standing up and had his sword withdrawn.
“My name is Otto Neurath. Come now, don’ stand there in the cold there, I have a camp just a mile aways on.”
Anardan advanced. “My name is Anardan. We truly appreciate your hospitality, but two of our party are wounded.”
Walking over, Otto stood over Dractor.
“Well, com’on now, take the other one – it’s only a short walk.” Otto then heaved the wounded man over his back and to Anardan’s amazement, took two of the packs, holding one in each hand. Anardan walked over to Bjarn, but Voolmark stopped him.
“Just wait a moment, he should be alright in a moment. This poultice sets a bit slower in cold like this.”
Nodding, he left as Bjarn got up. Walking to Otto who had already started out, he spoke.
“Were you the one who set those fires? We truly are indebted to your help.”
“Oh, It’s – it’s nothing really, I had to do something. When I was younger, I was in the same situation. Lost an uncle that way.”
Following Otto, the weary party trudged on until they reached the trader’s lean-to. Anardan quickly collapsed on the ground weary from exhaustion as Otto carefully eased the now unconscious body of Dractor to the ground, in front of Voolmark. Bjarn sat next to the fire and Otto sat down next to him, throwing some more kindling on as he did so.
“I don’t think I’ve properly introduced myself. My name is Otto and I am a trader from Crusader territory.”
“I am Bjarn, and I am leading this group. We are headed for Orion.”
“Orion eh? Headed that way myself.”
Reaching into his pack, Otto handed the Forestman leader a biscuit and threw another in Voolmark’s direction.
“Otto – isn’t that a Falcon name?” Bjarn looked at the man quizzically.
The trader paused for a second.
“Well, I suppose it is. My father was from that area before he settled down where I live now. He was a trader like I am now. I was hoping to find better business in Orion. What are you hoping to find there?”
“You could say a solution to a problem. We hope to find some sort of answer there.”
Seeing that Bjarn was being purposefully elusive, Otto decided not to press the issue. Soon they had returned to the Fellowship’s camp, where Aros and Reno immediately leapt up and prepared to battle, but then hesitated when they caught sight of their wounded friends.
“Reno, Aros, stop!” assured Bjarn, limping forward, “Otto’s with us...he helped us escape the wolves.”
“Wolves!” cried Shainya, still on the ground hugging the shaking Luxus.
“Timberwolves…” muttered Sir Dractor, who had just came awake, “Megabloks millions of them…”
Bjarn spat and groaned.
“Thank Chodan Voolmark, Anardan and Otto showed up, or we’d be wolf chow…”
"Well...they’ll be chow for us, now.” said Anardan, who was cutting strips of flesh from one of the wolf carcasses and holding it over the fire.
Voolmark was making his rounds with the jar of healing balm, first rubbing it on Sir Dractor and then Anardan and lastly himself.
“Where’d you get that?” asked Bjarn, indicating the jar with a nod of his head.
Voolmark looked up. “From techno-mage called Taylor Road. I don’t think he made it himself, I think he mostly travels about Dametreos buying and selling goods.”
“Techno-mage?” queried Aros.
“Someone who has a skill in charming mechanical things -- mills, boilers, catapults...things like that...his personal ship, the Apple-Tart, is a technological wonder, it has a paddle-wheel like you see on water mills and he says it’s powered by miniature versions of the crystals that powered the three airships.” explained Voolmark.
“Ah!” Reno exclaimed, “I remember him...that’s where I got my own healing rub before I joined the Misfits…”
They were all silent for a few minutes, but then Otto stood and approached Shainya.
“How long has your child been like that?” he asked quietly.
“Oh!” Shainya flushed, “Luxus isn’t my child...he’s the younger brother of Reno and Aros...as to how long he’s been shivering...ever since we were stuck in that avalanche...which was about noon today.”
“I see.” said Otto.
He turned to where Anardan was beginning to gut the second wolf.
“Please, leave that.” he said, stepping over.
Anardan looked up curiously, then nodded.
“May I borrow your knife?” Otto continued.
Anardan handed it over. Otto thanked him and continued to gut the animal, but left the flesh sticking to the bones. He then sliced off the limbs, head and tail and dragged the carcass the where Shainya sat, wide-eyed.
“What are you doing?”
"This is a trick I learned long ago…” explained Otto, “From my uncle who was later killed. The inside of a dead animal is much warmer than the outside.”
Otto force open the rib cage of the beast and gently took Luxus up in his arms. Shainya made a face, realizing what was going to happen.
“That’s disgusting!”
“Bloody, yes.” agreed Otto, “But it works, trust me. I was the one saved by this technique…”
Otto slid Luxus into his gory crib, and let the rib cage fold back around the small child. It was a macabre scene, a little boy incased in the ribs and flesh and fur of a wolf, but after a while...Luxus stopped shivering.
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