‘You’ll manage and do fine, girl. Now hush up and get your ass up on that mule.” Melisath said with a laugh. She wasn’t exactly mean about it, but there was a certain crude joviality to her that wasn’t usual for Ravok. “Good! See? Nothin’ too it. Now you boy! Get on up on that mule. Let’s get to it!” She said happily, not really waiting for them to get seated on the animals and courage gathered. The truth was, it looked as if the old woman was having the time of her life with two ‘employees’ following her and someone to chatter to or listen to the whole long ride. “You have Ash, girl. The other one is Soot. Then there’s Bob and Bob….” Melisath reminded Shiress. The mule Shiress rode was paler, a dappled grey, while Rook’s mule was a darker dapple, almost black. It made sense.
“Caves of gas? You lived obviously. That’s a good sign.” The woman said with a satisfied nod. By that time, Rook was in the saddle and Soot was jogging at an awkward gait to catch the other four mules. He brayed loudly, as if to complain about his short-end-of-the-stick situation.
When all five were rejoined, the animals all settled down and Melisath was able to hear Rook’s story. She nodded, not commenting on the quality of it. She was just glad the Kelvic was talkative. Not having much experience with Kelvics, Melisath hadn’t been sure Rook would even talk. Evidently he did. “Wait, you both aint slaves now are you? I’m not stealing someone’s property am I?” She asked curiously, eyes narrowed.
By then she’d handed coins – from the saddle – to the ferry master and then all five animals clomped from the stone of the street cobbles onto the wooden ramp and out onto the barge. They didn’t seem at all bothered by the swaying lake conveyance and simply stood there snorting and nipping at each other good naturedly as if they were as excited to be off and going somewhere as their old mistress seemed to be.
“Amazing. Glad to know.” Melisath said, giving Shiress a hard look, even as more passengers loaded onto the ferry and they eventually pushed off. The woman stayed mounted, knowing it would take longer to dismount, settle into a seat, and then get ready to go again once the ferry hit the shore. As far as stories went, it wasn’t that exciting nor that detailed, but then again Melisath was getting the impression Rook wasn’t the smartest or oldest gander in the flock. Still, she was a polite old woman, and these young people were going to be her muscle for this – maybe her last – harvest.
“Well, that was truly an inspiring story. I’m glad you both came out of it fine. And are still together, right? Good to know.” She added, muttering something to her mule’s ears which caused Boras to flick his ears back and then forward, snorting as if in agreement. All the animals remained quiet for the crossing, and soon enough the ferry was bumping against the shoreline, letting them all off the boat. The mules took after Melisath obediently and they were on their way, traversing the contents of the South trading post and taking a trail that roughly ran southeast out of the view of the lake.
Sylira had no roads, but there were animal tracks and trails enough the mules had no problem following them. The twins were soon released, and set off roughly following the three riding mules, only with a buck and a snort to their gaits as they lifted their heads and strided out briskly as if relieved beyond relief to get out of Ravok proper and to be back in the world itself.
Melisath hummed as she rode, happy to be out of the city again. It always felt like she was escaping some sort of prison or otherworldly place of false happiness leaving Ravok. The city had too many secrets and almost acted as if it were alive and under its own guidance. But she said nothing to the pair following along beside her. She soon established a pace that would keep the mules going briskly. They walked, then trotted, then galloped a bit before they pulled back to a walk to start the cycle again. At midday they stopped, stretched their legs, and watered their mounts. Melisath prompty stretched out in the shade of a tree and fell into a deep nap. She’d sleep a full bell before rising, catching the mules from where they were grazing and getting them all going again.
At this pace, they traveled most of the day, camped that night at a rocky bluff that gave them some shelter from the wind and an overhang all five mules and their campfire rested under comfortably in case of rain. They ate stew cooked over the fire and slept in shifts to watch the camp from predators and predatory humans. They traveled onward the next day, moving through varying terrain. Trees gave way to brush, which then gave into more trees. They rode through thick forests and across flanks of small mountains and hills. They passed pristine lakes and even a couple of water-logged marshes that gave them hope they might have arrived at their destination.
It wasn’t to be though. Melisath rode on, stopping only occasionally to pick a plant she saw from the back of her mule and once after she shot down a fat turkey with a short bow hiding in her pack. They took a big break to skin and wrap the meat for consumption that night. The old woman was hearty, fit to ride, and didn’t seem bothered at all by the trip. Though she did nap. She did rest when resting was needed, and she did halt immediately when Rook’s mount started limping to pull a stone out of his frog. Soot recovered quickly, keeping pace with Boras and Ash and both Bobs. They traveled briskly for a few days, three to be exact, before Melisath slowed them down, became more cautious and started doing a bit of teaching along the way.
“Now you folks are going to be foraging for me. Foraging requires a lot of knowledge of the local area. I’m going to be teaching you about Bogs before we get to this particular one. But more than that, I’m going to teach you a bit about how to forage. We’ll be looking for specific plants, but in doing that, we need to make sure we don’t take too much of one plant or be ignorant in their life cycle so we damage some part of it. There are a great many bog trees and shrubs at the moment that are flowering. We use those flowers for medicinal things, but keep in mind we also use the berries that result from those flowers too…. though we won’t be here long enough to harvest them. So don’t take too many flowers from one tree or shrug, because you’ll cause a dearth of berries in the fall and maybe a food shortage in the area altogether. The same goes for foraging ground plants. You look for patches of growth. If you pass large patches, take no more than a third of the patch, and do not take any if the patch looks unique or is a singular one in an area. When you are harvesting leaves from a plant, take the mature leaves only… take only a third of a plant, and then only if the plant looks abundant in the area. These things are important. Think of how a deer or rabbit eats in the woods. They nibble here, much there, always taking a step, and a new bite. If you act on this, you will keep your foraging grounds healthy.” Melisath added, looking over her shoulder at them both to make sure they were listening.
“Now, lets talk about this bog. It’s special. One thinks of a bog as a wetland, like a swamp or a fen, but bogs are different. There are three things that make up a bog, and once those things are present, bogs do pretty interesting things. First off, bogs are never fed by streams, lakes, or anything that comes seeping from the ground say even a low water table. Bogs get sky water only. Sky water is water that falls from the sky in the form of rain snow hail or sleet rather than by groundwater. They usually exist above non-porous rocks that cup the sky water and collect it. They normally contain peat soil, which is made up of poorly decomposed dead plants and animals. For some reason, sky water inhibits things from decomposing, so the normal critters that exist in places like swamps that will eat a dead plant or animal in a matter of bells isn’t present here. And because of the peat soil, bogs get a unique bunch of plants and animals that are adapted to grow in this odd soil that won’t sustain anything else.” Melisath added, looking thoughtful.
She paused for them to ask questions, then she continued. “The Filrian Bog is a unique scenario since it is considered a blanket bog… one that creeps uphill, defying the normal behavior of water because the dried peat soil wicks the water uphill. That’s what makes this bog unique and its plants well sought after. Even its peat is favorable because it can be packed into wounds and due to its nature, will inhibit infection.” She added, looking thoughtful.
“So, lets go back. Why is sky water special? Well, water that falls from the sky is not just plain water naturally. It has a bite to it… a flare. But when water percolates through the ground, its filtered through the stones and clay, taking away that bite and mellowing it out. Plants thrive in mellow environments with mellow water. Life doesn’t thrive so easily in environment with bites. When the water bites, things don’t rot… the food in plants is trapped and not released. It’s almost like time stands still. You can float a human corpse in a bog and then when the bog dries up you can dig it up thousands of years later and it will look very closely like it was when you floated it in the murky waters. I don’t know what sort of magic this is, but it indeed is a kind of magic. But it’s a dangerous magic. The bog holds its secrets and guards its denizens closely. We are going there to steal its secrets and unlock its healing power. You must be careful. And by the time we get there, you will know some of what you need to be careful of.” The old woman said, looking thoughtfully at both of them and then once more paused in case they had questions.
They were riding further and further south as she spoke, though she paused for the cantering, talking only again after they were back to walking and trotting. The land was passing quickly and the mules were surprisingly sturdy and swift.
