[The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance

[Kokuten]

Willow's feet hit the ground sooner than she would have expected.

The world that greeted her was not the warm Osaka morning that was forecast, but the chilly dawn of a wide, sweeping fjord. Her shoes had sunk into soft earth outside of a low lodge, nestled near a river that flowed into the greater lake system, which was flanked by sheer snow-capped mountains. There were a couple of other smaller houses nearby, settled closer to the water, and a large amphitheater.

The Allomancer's bronze suffused her body with a heartbeat that she could feel through her legs, coming from the land itself. There were small pulses in the sky, coming from what sounded like crows, and a sharp, strong pulse coming from the amphitheater.

And… one distinct pulse unlike the others came from the shoreline. Willow could make out the shape of the hooded spriggan dashing for a grouping of beached boats. It made a look over its shoulder and its glowing eyes sparked in shock.

Rattle! Ratta-tat-tat!

From behind one of the overturned boats popped up the head of a small spriggan draped in a cloak of algae.

Tatta Rattle! The hooded spriggan called again as it neared the coast.

The algae spriggan began hastily pushing a small boat among the larger, nearby boats to the water.

[Straken]

By the grace of Pewter alone Willow avoided stumbling forward. The world that greeted her was as much of a shock to her system as the plethora of Bronze pulses she wasn’t expecting. She definitely was not in Japan anymore, or at least she didn’t think she was. It looked like Norway, but it’d be the middle of the night if it actually were Norway. Did Japan have fjords? She imagined it had to have at least a few since countries didn’t monopolize geological features. A quick pinch of the cheek to confirm she wasn’t dreaming, Willow double checked her camera to make sure it was working; at least just to document proof.

Catching sight of the fleeing spriggan, Willow was suddenly reminded of Lewis Carol’s Alice in Wonderland. She found herself in an odd place, even if it wasn’t an opium filled English garden; she was chasing after a small panicky creature, even if it wasn’t a rabbit with a watch; and herself being a blonde British youth, even if she wasn’t a Victorian child in a blue dress. A brief shiver ran through her as she felt the chill in the air and through her bare feet. Upping the burn on Pewter helped her feel comfortable.

Refocusing on the spriggan, or rather spriggans, Willow darted off towards the water’s edge. Pulling some coins from the pouch, she dropped one behind her and pushed with Steel. She normally preferred running, but since Pewter burned faster than any of the other metals she figured she’d try and conserve it. Besides, a wide open space with ostensibly only magically inclined witnesses seemed like a good opportunity to practice with Steel as well as Bronze.

Coins in hand as she was pushed up into the air, Willow watched for any metal lines leading to either the spriggans of the boat. It was a distant hope, but perhaps the boat had nails in it.

[Kokuten]

From what Willow could tell, the Spriggan's boat was a hewn log, hollowed out like a canoe. The hooded thief arrived to the water's edge, joining the algae-cloaked compatriot in pushing the craft out. As soon as their rooty, sodden feet hit the water, they began flopping inside. One of them pulled out an oar and the other made a loud noise that sounded like the striking of a woodblock.

TOK TOK!

Willow arrived on the rocky waterline, and was a couple of long strides from the boat when a crocodilian creature burst from waves. It leapt forward on bulldog-leg-like flippers, shimmering with slimy skin and snapped its large, tooth-filled mouth at her.

TOK!

The creature whipped its long head around, and threw itself into the water, diving deep before emerging again at the boat. It clapped its large jaw on the stern of the raft and pressed it over the water like a motorboat. The algae spriggan guided them with the oar, while the hooded spriggan watched Willow as they sped off.

In the wake of their departure, a voice piped up from the amphitheater up the coast.

"Hello? Is someone there? Can you help me?" exclaimed the voice, adding a weightier, "Help!"

[Straken]

After exclaiming a loud “Yikes!” Willow bounced backwards away from the water. She was fairly positive neither Norway nor Japan had creatures like that bullfrogator, so she mentally dismissed worrying about location and putting the entire matter in the It’s Just Magic, Stop Thinking About It category. As she wondered whether there were more bullfrogators in the water and whether swimming after the boat was a better option than trying to Steel push somehow, the cry for help came. As it turned out, the magic signature she’d felt coming from up the shore a bit was sentient. Turning back towards the fleeing spriggans, Willow flared Bronze. The wave of pulses coming from around her threatened to make her dizzy, but she focused as best she could on the spriggans; noting their pulse so she could track them down later. For good measure she pointed two fingers towards her eyes then back at the watching spriggan before arcing back into the air towards the amphitheater.

Landing nearby in a light jog, Willow crossed the rest of the distance to stand at the back of the amphitheater above the seats. She imagined she must strike quite the intimidating figure as she stood with an exaggerated pose. Barefoot, wearing pajama pants covered in cartoon pugs dressed as various monsters and villains and the occasional loaf of bread, a simple white tank top, the Y-harness going over her right shoulder, her aviator sunglasses, and her long blonde hair was still held back in a ponytail. In her own mind she insisted she could look plenty cool with enough time to prepare. Coins in hand, she was ready to fight, or run, if she had too.

“What seems to be the problem?” Willow asked.

[Kokuten]

"Fate is back on my side. Finally, someone."

The amphitheater was a clear labor of love, a wooden construction with scenes of monsters, heroes and villains carved into every flat surface. Even the seats were decorated with pattern and color, set into chipped slots in the foundational stone. Sticks around the edges, topped with glimmering gems, hummed and radiated a low light in the morning sun. A tall rafter, suppor ted on totem-like pillars, suspended various glowing stones by chains.

Atop the rafter were perched several avian creatures, almost human in shape. Willow might recognize them as harpies, but with a plumage resembling ravens. From where she stood, each of them probably stood as tall as Willow's waist.

Their eyes stared down at her, humanly intelligent, beastialy curious.

"Over here."

The voice beckoned her to the stage, which was backed by a large scaffold that supported curtains, pulleys and backdrops. Flanking it on one side was a tree, the tree on the other had fallen onto the stage from under which a pair of booted legs extended out. Another of the harpy-like creatures stood on the fallen tree, she withdrew a canteen from the other side, clutched in her talon.

Her head turned sharply, spotting Willow, and with a flap of her wings, surged up toward the rafters with the canteen to join the others.

"Are you strong? I hope you're strong, I need help getting out from under this tree," the voice, gently masculine, was accompanied by a pair of hands reaching over the top of the tree. "The odinkine are helpful mistfolk, but not much in the way of muscle."

[Straken]

Willow split her time between admitting the amphitheater and cocking an eyebrow at the weird birds before the voice drew her eyes to the tree. There was a ding dang man under there!

“Oh cats!” The Brit’s exclamation could be heard across the amphitheater. She quickly moved over to the tree and inspected it. Guy here was probably at least passably strong, so this tree probably wasn’t a prop; or the guy was like a druid her party had run across in a campaign who had trapped himself to test passersby. If this was a real tree, then Pewter alone probably wasn’t going to cut it. The metal multiplied her strength, but she had only been working at Miss Smith’s for a couple months; her gains were good, but she wasn’t quite to the point of hefting some hefty trees. Time for her brain to pull its weight.

“I mean, I’m strong-ish,” Willow started, but her tone shifted to unabashed confidence as she took stock of everything she had to work with. “But no worries! I’ll have you out of there in a jiffy! Just, uh, need to set up first!”

To start, Willow took a handful of coins and began to spread them around.

“So how’d you end up under a tree anyway?” Willow asked as she began placing coins as under the tree as possible as well as a wider spread around the tree. “Oh, and hi, I’m Willow!”

Then she borrowed some rope attached to a pulley as centered above the tree as possible. After practicing a sailor’s knot her dad had shown her to tie the rope around the trunk, Willow took a second to tuck her top into her pajama pants; for propriety. For once she had done that she Steel pulled herself up to the rafter via the pulley, spread a few more coins on the top of the rafter, and the burned Iron to pull herself against the bottom of the rafter. Standing up, she craned her neck to look at the man.

“Soon as you feel like you have enough room, get wiggling out of there, kay?”

Willow flared her metals and began a maneuver that would probably give a physicist a headache. Standing over the pulley, she pulled hard against the rope. With Iron, she pulled herself against the rafter to keep herself planted, but it also helped to offset the strain of the flared Iron pulls on the coins tucked underneath the tree truck. Flaring Steel, Willow also pushed against the wider array of coins to help balance the various forces.

[Kokuten]

With a bit of grunting, a young man about as old as Willow, emerged from under the tree, dressed in a paint-stained tunic. He was tall, with blonde hair that rolled over his shoulders, and when he looked up, Willow could see he had dark blue eyes like the night. Before he took his chance to speak, he marveled at Willow's strange abilities and her methods.

"Thank you, Willow! I've been under that tree since midnight. A wraith of Vengeance flew over the village, and struck down this tree as it flew by," explained the young man.

The small harpy from before descended again, and perched on the blonde fellow's shoulder. She wore a similar tunic to his own over her humanoid form, her wings extending from sleeves.

"I'm Creative," he went on, "Hey now. You've come at a good time, we have a show this afternoon."

The avian-humanoid on his shoulder gave him a stern look, speaking in a way that sounded almost like a Raven.

"Well, not today, I will need to get this tree heaved off the stage. But tomorrow–..."

This time the harpy-like being raised a talon and hawed at him. In response, he ran his hands through his hair, sighing a defeated breath.

"... Agh… We finally had an audience. One day. Are you planning to stay here in Jotungard for a while? There will be a show eventually."

[Straken]

Jotungard? Odinkine? Wraith of Vengeance? And this guy's name was Creative? She had already figured she’d ended up someplace odd, but this was a step further than that. Had she actually died jumping out of her fourth story window after merely dreaming she had magic? It would explain The Nine Realms bit; aside from not following Norse mythology, or not being Norse. Was this even Norse, actually? In school she had read excerpts of the Poetic Edda, plus she was a fan of the Thor movies, and had thought the Realms used -heim. As she considered all of this she released her burn of Iron, dropped Pewter back to a low burn, and used Steel to lower herself to the ground.

“That’s very kind, but I’m actually a bit pressed at the moment,” Willow began her answer as she looked up at Creative. He was tall, but was he giant tall? She’d never met a giant, so she couldn’t quite tell. “A friend of mine has gone missing, and I was in pursuit of some spriggans that I believe connected when I heard you calling for help. They were fleeing across the lake, last I saw. Don’t suppose you could give a girl some directions, could you?”

[Kokuten]

Creative's brow furrowed at the mention of the Spriggans, and gripped his chin in thought. Willow could see he was only a head taller than her, although his posture shaved a few inches off the top. Besides his eyes, nothing about him seemed to suggest Giant lineage.

"Spriggans? In Jotungard?" he said, casting a curious glance at the creature on his shoulder, who mimicked the expression. "We're very far from their homeland. There's no telling what desperation or machination has made them come out this far. The few who come here know not to bother my work, or the odinkine; unless they want to pay for a ticket."

He shook his head. "But kidnapping? That sounds beyond their nature. Mischievous. Thieving, maybe, but they are almost always preoccupied in their tasks, namely, scavenging any trinket, or bauble, that they think will waken the Slumberer."

Some of the other harpy-like creatures descended and landed on some of the chairs as Creative went to the edge of the ampitheatre. He pointed at the low mountains across the fjord.

"The Spriggans you're looking for are going to take the pass out of Jotungard into the Cairn Valley. That is if they are trying to go home. The fastest way there would be over the lake, as the Giants are too tall and rocky to pass on foot."

[Straken]

Willow’s face practically radiated her sense of awe as Creative spoke. This was a sizable place apparently if the spriggans were leaving Jotungard and a long way from home. It was like her own personal adventure! Suddenly her face paled but still held a slowly drooping smile. Hell’s bells, this was a whole adventure, wasn’t it? She had accidentally stumbled into a DLC zone while wearing only basic gear. She had to U-turn back to that window to try and get her gear. Ignoring the fact that she was in her pajamas in a Nordic fjord, there was a slim chance her single vial of metal would carry her to the end.

“Not a kidnapping really. Who’s the Slumberer? Is there a map of the area by chance? Can you excuse me for a second?” talking unexpectedly fast between adrenaline and her Pewter, Willow launched herself out of the amphitheater on a Steel push. If this were a fable, the window back into the lodge would just be a regular window. Then she’d need to equip herself entirely from wits, charisma, gumption, and the story typical generosity of fablefolk. She had saved that Creative guy, and if he was putting on plays then he might have some metal props as well as some warmer and sturdier clothing she could procure. Equal parts eager and nervous, Willow sped to find out if the window was still a planar portal rather simply a porthole.