Chp 8: Gan(s)

   (So. Treasure, you say?) Jangus thought back on his conversation with the Chort as he approached the treeline. (And an old man. Bit odd, that. Being scared of an old man when he's walking around with that fuckall huge mace strapped to his back like it were no more than a damn fishing pole.) 

   The distinct odor of petrichor and sprouted fungus tugged at his senses. Somewhere ahead, the low, croaking warning of a corvid rolled through the trees. He carefully picked his way through the underbrush. Mostly blackberry brambles, picked clean by the birds. Their thorns lay bare and menacing on snarled vines. Jangus grabbed a girthy stick to beat himself a path.

   It wasn't long before decomposing earth was replaced by the sweet burning smell of what was unmistakably tobacco. Deep and rich, and not far away. Letting his nose lead the way, he plodded forward through the (now thinning) thorny mass that carpeted the forest floor. As he paused to get his bearings, he leaned against a huge Maple and something poked him between his shoulder blades. Annoyed, he turned, expecting to find some dinocerous beetle, or daggerpillar. Instead he found what appeared to be the remains of a branch, cut clean, and stripped of bark. A droplet of thin sap was forming at the end. 

       Bloop

   The droplet fell with an unexpected noise. Looking down, Jangus saw a tin pail sat at the foot of the tree. It was nearly halfway full of the clear, runny sap. (Syrup!) Jangus recognized the setup immediately. His heart leapt with hope. He hadn't had syrup in months! Looking closer he saw the beginnings of a footpath leading away from the tree, in the direction the brambles seemed thinnest. With renewed vigor, he followed along. Humming his breakfast song aloud with gusto.

      Kaaaaaaaaaw

   There was the bird call again. Definitely not a crow. Too big. Much too big. A Raven, then. It sounded annoyed at something. Annoyed, but not without a good measure of patience.

      Kaaaaw kakaw

   A final warning call, as if to say "fine, have it your way". Quite an expressive bird. Jangus hoped to at least catch sight of it. That is, until he did. Then, he regretted his desire immediately.

      FwapFwapFwap

   A giant black figure exploded out of the branches above him, and buttressed his face with it's huge wings. Jangus screamed in surprise, and covered his head with his arms. The Raven seemed to laugh as it flew away, and alit atop an old, petrified stump.

      Haaa haaa haaaaaaaaa!

   Yup. It was laughing at him. Jangus peered out from between his elbows, to see the bird nuzzle the old stump's hair. (Wait. What? Hair?!) The stump lifted its head, and met Jangus' gaze with a pair of bright blue eyes, and an amused smirk. (Ok. I get it. Pog was probably right to be scared.) Jangus raised both arms, displaying his empty hands. He did his best to smile, despite his recent shock.

   "Top o' the morning, padre. Lovely bird ye got there! Never seen one so… majestic." He scrambled for the least insulting word he could find. The Raven bowed its head as if in polite thanks. 

   The old man raised a pipe in salutations, and took a long, slow pull. No smoke escaped his ancient lips. He seemed to consume it entirely. The bird hopped off his shoulder, and fluttered back to stand in front of Jangus. Then, it exhaled an impossibly huge cloud of smoke at his feet, which swirled in cottony tufts as it completely obscured his lower half.

      Haaa haaa haaaaaaaaa!

   (So, that happened.) Jangus tried not to show his alarm as he and the bird watched each other. The smoke reached up in long fingers and caressed his legs before withdrawing back into the solid mass that writhed on the ground. "I, uh… I heard this was a good place to search for uh… well… I, uh…" he trailed off, unsure of what to even say. The old man's silence held Jangus in anxious uncertainty, and his gaze seemed to pierce right through him. (Well… So much for that syrup.) "sorry, I can see you're busy. I'll just be on my way…" but even as he said it, he found his feet would not budge. It was as if they didn't belong to him anymore. He wasn't even sure he could feel them at all.

   "So quickly it runs? No way to find what you're searching for, that. No, no. Never find it, you will. Not like that." The old man's voice was surprisingly friendly, with a strong note of teasing underlying his high timbre. "The Chort, you might as well be. Tried harder, he did. Much harder. But it is not for him to know, it is not. This curious stranger, though…" the old man stood to his full height, entirely unbowed despite the obvious weight of his years. "This one smells of destiny." He moved forward in one lightning-fast stride, and stood mere inches away from Jangus's face, eyeing him curiously. He inhaled deeply through his long, crooked nose. "Destiny, yes. But also breakfast." He poked Jangus in the chest with the mouthpiece of his pipe, and the force shook his entire body. 

   "Hngh!" He grunted, as his entire body flashed with a dull pain. Visions of his past flew by his eyes, encompassing entire years in the space of an instant. Time seemed to lose all significance and meaning, and he felt as if he were coming unglued. A dollop of Taffy being pulled off it's waxy wrapper.

   "Oh, he thinks he sees. Thinks he knows, he does. Thinks a decade of murder and bigotry and sin can be cleansed by penance, perhaps? He does, yes." 3 more taps. 3 more reality shaking assaults on Jangus's soul. The smile was gone, but the friendly, teasing tone remained. "Teach you the meaning, we will. Show you the path, yes? Not selfless sacrifice, no. No, no. How can one forget oneself if he hasn't even found himself yet?" The old man circled Jangus, and stopped at his back. The smoke reached out in long tendrils, and surrounded the both of them. "To forget oneself, one must first be truly lost." With this word, and a final poke (in the same spot the syrup tap had poked him), Jangus stumbled forward, free to move at last. He turned to see himself. He was flanked by a laughing Raven and a frowning, old man. He watched himself crumple onto the forest floor. He shouted wordlessly as the old man scooped him up and slung him over one shoulder as if he weighed no more than a sack of rice. And he followed in silence as they carried him deep into the woods.

Reviews

[Papaya]

I've really enjoyed reading this. Nice job. Great writing.
That old man reminds me of a cross between Yoda and Gollum.
Only in speech, not appearance obviously.

[Dripping Chocolate Madness]

Exactly what I was going for lol.
I like trying to write speech inflections and strange speaking patterns so the DM has to mimic them. Purely for kicks lol. One time, I set up a meeting (on purpose) between myself (with a Georgia aristocrat accent), a merchant with throat cancer (the DM), the city treasurer (the DM with a Texan accent), and the mayor (the DM with a hoity toity Englishman thing going on).
I thought he was going to suffer apoplexy right on the spot.

[Papaya]

:) that sounds like fun