Duke Braddock at the Outlook

The Outlook Submission for IronAge Media

The wind growls through the wooded hilltops as mist rises from the forest floor, shrouding the region in a strange mystique, the nearby fall foliage golden and red in what Duke could only assume is mid-day to early evening, if the growling of his stomach is any indication. As he leans on the wooden rail, the strange building shifts in a slow rhythm on its stilted legs and flimsy stairs with the wind. He glances up at the windvane atop the green straw roof, and grimaces as it spun uselessly in slow circles.

Ania walks out onto the deck, carrying a cup of mulled tea as she cocks her head concerned towards Duke, “What is troubling you, Sir Duke?”

A moment frustration on his face melting instantly away with an easy smile, “Seriously, you don’t gotta call me ‘Sir’, ya know?”

She smiles warmly, nodding, “Ayes, as you have said.”

He takes a deep breath, enjoying the feel of the crisp air in his chest as his hand grips the rail tightly, “But, to your question…” he pauses, seeming to search for the right question of his own, “… you sure this place ain’t gonna blow over?” As he speaks, a gust of wind causes the tower to shift more than normal, the spindly supports below audile from high above as they creak, causing Duke to grip the rail with both hands.

Ania laughs softly, brushing a strand of red hair back before sipping from her mulled tea, the steam framing her face, “I am certain, Sir Duke. Its roots are living, like the trees around it, and it will take much more than a gust of angry wind to topple.”

Duke nods, clearing his throat and spitting off the tower, stretching his back without letting go of the rail, “So, was there any sign in the night?” He pushes forward with strategy, to take his mind off the feeling of being on a boat, swaying more than a hundred feet in the air.

She nods, sipping her tea, “That is correct. I told you they are unlikely to travel by night in this realm, as the beasts of this wood can be very hungry.”

He looks out into the valley, rolling his eyes out of her eyeshot as he nods, reaching down and gingerly grabbing his bronze breastplate, slinging the set strap over his shoulder, before beginning to hook the other belts into place, “Yea, you did, but there was still a chance. And if these fellas are the threat the Artificer implied, don’t know what threat some beasts are gonna be.”

She smiles, nodding again as she sips her tea once more, then turns towards another direction over the valley, towards a dark and shadowed hill jagged with pines, hiding the intensity of her attention as quickly as she realized it, “Perhaps they took a different road? It is possible they took the longer path, in order to avoid this very confrontation, or even simply to avoid the annoyance of the beasts should they pose no threat as you say.”

As Duke fastens his gun belt through the sword belt, he raises an eyebrow and pauses, then turns towards Ania, “By night? Wait, what time is it?”

Setting her cup down on a table by the shack’s door, she looks towards him again, “I believe it to be close to an hour past first light.”

He looks up, staring at the lighter area of the sky, “So… that’s east then?” Drawing in a deep breath, he rubs the back of his neck then raises an eyebrow to Ania, “Wait, how long did I sleep?”

She thinks a moment, smiling, “Oh, well over ten hours if I had to guess. You required the rest, to fully work the viper’s venom through your blood.” She motioned to the door, “Nakit and I took turns on the watch, do not worry.”

Duke rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, letting out a long breath as he does, “Well, that explains why I’m so hungry, I s’pose.” Running his hands through his hair, the damp air helping set it against his scalp as he shakes his head a bit, “Speaking of, what we got to eat?”

She smiles, lifting her bag from the floor and flipping the flap up, reaching in and pulling out strips of salted meats, “We have a few days of rations still, and Nakit has some provisions of his own. I believe we can last another few days before we need to forage, at this rate.”

Taking the jerky-like strips from Ania, he tears a piece off and chews it idly, “Sounds fine to me. I’m guessing we shouldn’t forage here?” He looks into the forest, pursing his lips as his eyes draw to the dark hill with its jagged evergreens, jutting up from the mist like a specter in the dark, listening to the groaning howl of the wind as it gusts up, swaying the tower once more and causing him to grip the rail again.

Ania nods to his back, putting the remaining strips back before flipping the bag shut, “Ayes, the beasts here do not take kindly to being hunted, and the fruits of this wood may be soothing to the stomach, but are maddening to the mind.”

He turns his attention from the hill, blinking at her as he parses her words, “So, they’re what… like drugs or something?”

She pauses back at him, working his own words in her head, “Ayes? They create powerful visions and euphoric feelings, making the wayward easier prey for the beasts.” She smiles, moving to a different pouch of her bag and drawing out her sketchbook and linen wrap of charcoals, “There are some alchemists and apothecaries, however, who covet them for crafting powerful intoxicants.”

Nods, making a mental note of that as part of his mind tries to remember what he was thinking about before that subject occurred. He leans on the rail, facing Ania as he rubs the bridge of his nose, then slowly turns back towards the rail and looks out into the valley.

A valley aglow in the reds and yellows of fall between the mists and shifting fog, of exposed round rocks smoothed over ages by wind and rain. And looks across the gap at the sharp and pointed hill across the fog, with its black evergreens like the quills of a porcupine. Something about the hill refused closer examination, as he noticed the pass beyond and the grey-gold glow of daylight.

Duke’s eyes narrow, digging his fingers into the rail as he strains to focus on the hill. To watch it closely as the wind gusts up, gently swaying the outlook and swirling the fog. Under the scrutiny, Duke saw what he had been missing.

The hill had shifted.

Without breaking eye contact with the hill, he turns towards Ania slightly, snapping his fingers to get her attention, “Wake up Nakit. I think I’ve found them.”