Adventure of Issac Rivendohr 1

Dawn washes the plain in pale gold. Rested after trading watches, Issac, Lillia, Mikka, Marcus, and Siegfried leave the riverbank, following the steady purple marks between scattered stones.

The party advances cautiously. Near the first rise, a separate line of footprints breaks away from the river and travels opposite the purple trail, confirming that someone reached the site before them.

The purple marks climb toward a distant mountain pass. As the slope steepens, a weathered carving appears in the stone: a dormant garden marker bearing the split crown.

The marks fade at the pass’s first shadow, dividing around the sealed marker before vanishing among pale stones. Lillia opens her journal and waits for Issac’s next choice.

Issac kneels beside the pale stones, examining the impressions without touching them. The tracks are recent enough to retain softened edges, but older than the purple marks.

The footprints confirm his reading. One set is lighter and narrower, with careful steps descending toward the river. The other belongs to a heavier traveler carrying a long object.

The evidence settles the tracks' direction and age, but not the travelers' identities. Both routes remain readable, with the mountain path leading toward the distant pass.

The party leaves the mountain entrance behind, keeping the heavier footprints marked in memory. Lillia closes her journal, its lone garden clue safely tucked among the pages.

Lillia and Mikka settle near the mountain’s first shadow while Issac, Marcus, and Siegfried descend toward the broad grazing fields. Morning light glints across the grass.

They move quietly through the tall grass, choosing a healthy cow apart from the herd. Marcus studies the wind, while Siegfried prepares a clean, efficient hunt.

Issac draws his bow and lowers into the tall grass. Years of countryside training steady his breathing as he silently signals Marcus and Siegfried to circle the chosen cow.

Marcus and Siegfried spread through the grass, using the wind and the herd’s movement for cover. The healthy cow remains apart, unaware of the tightening circle.

Issac looses. The arrow strikes cleanly, and the cow drops beyond the herd’s immediate notice. The remaining animals shift away without panic.

Siegfried lends Issac a sturdy hunting knife from his field kit. Together they work beside the grass, turning the cow into neatly portioned steak bites for the mountain journey.

The work succeeds, though the knife slips against a tough joint and scrapes Issac’s knuckles. He rinses the shallow mark with water before continuing.

When the meat is portioned, Issac gestures for salt or herbs, then points toward a nearby bush of broad edible sycamore leaves.

Marcus collects the cleanest leaves while Siegfried seasons the portions. The improvised wrapping and salt give the rations a better chance of lasting through the pass.

With the rations wrapped and secured, the three gather their packs in the tall grass. Issac’s careful shot has left the work orderly and the provisions plentiful.

Issac listens without speaking, then gives a simple nod. Marcus accepts the gesture with an approving smile and lifts the wrapped meat.

Siegfried secures the last portion among the packs, his praise carrying no teasing edge. Marcus checks the bindings while the morning wind moves through the grass.

Issac, Marcus, and Siegfried start back toward the distant marker, carrying enough food for the party’s journey into the pass.

As Issac, Marcus, and Siegfried turn from the fields, a slow rumble rolls beneath the grass. Issac catches movement on the rise and stops the group.

Three Diomede Mares charge across the plain, broad-chested and ash-coated, their pale manes streaming and their eyes burning with unnatural aggression. Dust boils beneath their hooves.

Marcus unsheathes his sword and angles toward the lead beast. Siegfried raises both fists into a disciplined boxer’s stance, planting himself beside the ration packs.

Issac draws his Bo Staff and braces with the others. The rumble has given them time to prepare, but dust and distance obscure which mare is leading the charge.

The three adventurers split across the plain, each drawing one charging mare away from the others. Dust stings Issac’s eyes as the nearest beast bears down on him.

Issac plants his Bo Staff and meets the mare’s rush. His stance wavers under the impact, but something within him holds firm, turning him into an immovable barrier.

The mare recoils a step without injury, its ash-coated body still tense and aggressive. Issac’s staff has not harmed it, but neither has its charge driven him from the ground.

The force jars Issac’s shoulder and leaves his breath tight. He remains upright, bruised and shaken, while a faint warmth passes through his limbs before fading.

Marcus holds the second mare at the edge of the dust cloud, sword ready but measured. Siegfried squares himself against the third, guarding the wrapped rations.

The mare’s charge leaves Issac bruised and breathless, but pain gives way to a fierce steadiness. His will hardens, and unnatural strength rises through his arms.

Issac sacrifices part of his resolve to force his battered body onward. Warmth floods his limbs as he steps into the mare’s reach once more.

He swings the Bo Staff with renewed force. The blow lands against the mare’s ash-coated flank, making it stagger and toss its pale mane in anger.

The Diomede Mare is hurt, but it snaps forward in retaliation. Its shoulder catches Issac and drives him back, worsening his injuries without taking him from the fight.

Issac shifts sideways at the last instant, boots grinding through dust as the Diomede Mare commits to its charge. Its shoulder misses him by inches.

The mare surges past, loses its footing on the uneven ground, and stumbles into a low rock. Its head strikes the stone, and it reels away, dazed and disoriented.

Issac’s escape costs him dearly. His trailing foot twists beneath him, and he drops to one knee, pain flashing through his ankle as dust coats his hands.

The injured mare shakes its pale mane and paws unsteadily at the earth. Marcus keeps his sword between it and Issac without rushing forward.

Across the field, the other two mares remain engaged with Marcus and Siegfried. For this instant, Issac has space to recover his footing while the dazed beast struggles to orient itself.