The intrepid and worn group take a few hours to rest from their ordeals in the "Caverns of Doubt". Even with the nearby door closed, they can feel the cold beyond it through small drafts around its edges. Now rested, they have donned their thicker travel cloaks and coats and prepared their flame weapons should they turn out to be required. It seems odd to be moving on without their ally, Tristan, but no other options present themselves as a way to rescue him. So, without further ado, the old door is forced open. The cold wind hits them like a hammer and after a few minutes of blinking in the bright light, they find themselves at
The good news is the group is once more in fresh air and sunlight! The bad news is it's colder than a dragon's heart and the wind bites worse than a swarm of vampiric nymphs. The lay of the snow before the group alludes to an old path that leads up into the mountains, but due to drifts and recent snowfall, there are no obvious tracks of their quarry.
Sam rubs his head where there's still a purple bruise and looks back where they came from. "You said somethin' about what was it, the claw o' a creature of ice, Hannah? That's what we need to be gettin' Tristan out of that shell of ice?"
"Yeaaaah," Rosy says, looking uncertain. "I wasn't clear on if that meant, like, a critter what lives on ice or one what is made of ice."
"Or if, say, we was to take one of 'em icicles an' carve it into a critter with great big claws," Sam hypothesizes. "Would that count?"
Hannah nods and pulls her cloak more closely around herself. "It could mean one of those 'ice cats' the shaman showed us although I'm not sure. But I have to find out or Tristan stays as he is - and that I do not want." As she says this, she's glad her face is shadowed by the cloak's hood.
"Oooo, that would be sneaky!" Rosy agrees, wagging her tail. "I didn't know you could carve ice!"
Peaches snorts, releasing a cloud of steamy breath. She doesn't seem to happy about losing Tristan and Souhait either.. probably because now she doesn't have anyone to talk to.
The wind picks up momentarily and in the mountains ahead the group could swear it sounds like the mournful howling of very large creatures. Thankfully it is only the wind ... well, probably.
Hannah shakes her head. "I would be happier if that was the way of this spell. But I have a feeling that freeing Tristan will be more involved - and dangerous - than that."
Rosy dashes ahead a little, searching for signs of Prince Feezle having passed.
"We don't leave anyone behind," Minstrel Sam agrees. "Tom hated it when Randall pulled his 'last man at the fortress' stunt, it preyed on him for Years." He eyes Hannah. "'sides, Tristan means somethin' to you, don't he? Or did my old eyes deceive me?"
"Hey!" the doglin barks, and points excitedly at a patch of snow that's slightly shallower than the rest. "These could be footprints! They haven't filled in all of the way yet!"
This makes Hannah smile, just a little. "I'm sure I made that pretty clear to everyone at the old springs Rosy led us to." Then she adds, a little more forcefully, "We'll get him back. I just have to find the right way."
Peaches whickers. At least she won't have to keep an eye on the amorous elf now, and can watch for other dangers.
Hannah then moves up to where Rosy is standing and examines what she's found.
Sam coughs and looks innocent. "Eh well, ye know how it gets when you get to be my age, an' you've played as many love ballads as I have, sooner or later everythin' looks like 'When Tam Lane Met Margaret'." He ambles after Hannah, still looking woozy.
"Do you know 'Goblin Jane and the Rock Dragon'?" Rosy asks Sam, her tail still wagging.
To Hannah's eye, yes, they do look like footprints. From the depth she can guess the person who left them weighed around one hundred pounds or so and that they are probably only a few days old.
The minstrel looks skyward thinking a bit. "Lessee, is that the one with the chorus that goes 'Shake your dragon's tail, shake your dragon's tail, move your feet and shake your seat, and let the dragon roar'?"
The fae girl murmurs, "These could be a goblin's tracks, all right. And we're not too far behind Feezle, if his tracks they are. Wonder if there are any more...?" She takes a few steps in the direction in which the footprints seem to lead.
They lead, of course, toward and up into the mountains ahead.
"Yeah! That's popular at the Greedle taverns," Rosy notes, as she follows the line of almost-tracks with her eyes. "Oooo, mountains."
"This way, then," Hannah tells the others, gesturing to the tracks' path. "Just watch out for anything on the ground that may not be safe enough to step on." Off she goes - carefully.
"It goes a little different in Mirari bars, features a certain Lady Redmane as the gal who's got a dragon by the tail," Sam says with a grin. He shoulders his pack, mourns to himself once again that he's out of liquor, with just sarsaparilla in his canteen, and trudges after Hannah.
"'Cause if you're looking to have a hot time," Sam sings as they head down the trail. "You know it never fails, you gotta defend the town, and don't let us all down, and shake that dragon's tail!"
After about five hours of slogging through snow, one thing is clear ... anyone who has said snow is beautiful is a right twit. Here its at least knee deep and hard to walk through. Not only that, but Rosy has had a few close calls of falling though areas that looked solid, but weren't. It is only through deft movement by the others that she was caught each time. Not that the close calls to dying ever actually slowed the doglin any. As he sun begins to set, the snow takes on a crimson hue. The group is now walking through what seems like a rift in a great ice block. The passage makes Hannah's neck hair stand on in; no place to really run if things go badly. She also notices some rather worrying marks on the walls ahead...
"Someone oughta make special shoes for walking on snow with," Rosy complains.
Tiredly, Hannah limps over to the wall and looks more closely at the marks there. "There are special shoes for walking on snow, actually, but I don't know how to make them. Folk of December's House don't need them, anyway, and the rest just stay indoors."
"I've heard of snowshoes, but I always thought they seemed a little cold an' prone to melting if you were the warmblooded sort," Sam quips. His repertoire of songs seems endless, but leaning toward the scurrilous.
The marks on the wall look disturbingly like claw marks. They sink in a good two inches into the ice and when Hannah spreads her hands to guess on the size of the hand or paw that made them ... it has to be about twice the size of hers.
So far, Peaches hasn't had any issues with her own footing, but even she looks wary about the ice walls. She whickers nervously at the sight of the giant claw marks.
The old faerie whistles at the claw marks as Hannah compares her hand to them. "Not half as big as the giant dragon marks I've seen in my times, but not a creature I'd fancy facing in an alley either," he says.
"Must be getting closer to these ice cats," Hannah says, more to herself than anyone else. "Which is unfortunate because we must make camp. We can't risk falling through any more weak spots in the dark."
"Maybe those are from ice wyverns instead of the kitties?" Rosy suggests, sounding hopeful. She's a small doglin, after all.
"As if we'd rather face the wyverns, instead?" Hannah teases, looking about for a likely place to stop for the night.
The wind picks up again, its tone a baleful howl as it whips through the passage. In its wake, a whirl of snow and mist and thrown into the air.
"At least they aren't cats," Rosy notes.
Sam grins. "Wyverns are less inclined to play with their prey," he agrees.
Hannah hmms at this motion of the wind. "Best not to stay in the passage if we can avoid it. Anything we set out would get blown away." She goes a little further on, then, to see if anything better presents itself.
As Hannah presses on, The wind doesn't let up and the snow and mist only get thicker in the air around the group. Within another few minutes, none of them can see more than a few feet in front or behind themselves. To make matters worse, the waning daylight is almost gone.
Peaches suddenly stops and whickers in warning.
Hannah stops and pulls out one of the lenses the shaman gave them for seeing through glamours. She puts that up to her eye and looks around, hearing Peaches' warning and feeling the same wariness.
"Why we stoppin'?" Rosy asks, looking to Hannah.
"Getting the feeling that we're being...watched," the girl answers.
Rosy tries sniffing for scents on the wind, but apparently the cold air makes her nose a bit numb.
Sam bumps into Hannah's back. "Mmf?" He peers through the bundles of thick furry clothes in which he's wrapped himself against the biting frost to try and see what's alarmed the horse.
Through the lens, the snow looks ... off, somehow. There are moments where it twists and moves as if something unseen just darted through it. The something being very large. If she had to guess, near ten feet tall if it was standing upright. Through the howl of the wind everyone starts hearing the soft crunch of snow being walked on. The sounds come from both in front and behind them...
"Lenses on, everyone," Hannah says quietly to the group. "And have those fire-weapons out." As she says this, she takes the flamethrower from its place where it was tied to her pack.
"Uh," Rosy says, retreating to stand under Peaches. "Is it wise to use flamethrowers in an ice cave?" she finally asks.
"Mmf, mmf," Sam says. He pulls down the scarf he's wrapped around his mouth and tries that again. "Don't think we can talk 'em out o' eatin' us, or maybe bribe 'em with a steak or two?" Obedient to Hannah's request however, he fishes around for his own monocle and flame weapons.
Hannah gives the doglin a lopsided grin. "I'll try to use it sparingly...which may mean at close range."
Hannah also passes Tristan's lens to Rosy as she speaks. "Hold this up to your eye. It will help you to see past glamours."
Looking through the magical eyepiece, Rosy offers, "I could bark really loud! Cats are afraid of dogs."
Now that everyone who has a monocle has it on, the can make out movement in the dense snow that swirls about them. It shifts and blurs as the large creatures dart back and forth in anxious movement. Excitement for a hunt, perhaps? Curiosity? Hard to say at this point. Not that it will be long before they know because they're getting closer. And now they can hear them ... a deep threatening rumble.
"Augh!" Rosy yelps at the movement, and does start barking.
"I think that's kinda the other way around," Sam opines in response to Rosy's statement.
Hannah keeps her grip on the flamethrower but she tries the diplomatic route first, just in case there's a way to avoid a fight. "Is there anyone out there?" Hannah asks of the snow and wind. "We can hear your approach. We only wish to pass through your lands but we will defend ourselves if we must."
A moment passes before a rumbling answer comes, "You are not welcome here. These are our lands; they fey have enough. Today you pass trough, tomorrow you return with an army to take it."
Sam looks at Hannah. "Have ye got 'bring an army' on yer calendar? It sure ain't on mine!"
"I'm not fey!" Rosy barks. Peaches shifts her legs, trying to get the doglin out from under her.
Hannah is somewhat alarmed by the deep and expansive nature of that rumbling voice but she manages to shake her head in reply to Sam. Aloud, she says, "I have no army to command, nor do I wish ownership of this place. I merely come in search of a goblin so that I may bring him back to his home."
The answer that follows is a low, rumbling laugh. "Then you are on a fools quest. The goblin you seek has already fallen prey to the wyverns of the peeks. He was taken a day ago. If he has not been devoured yet, he no doubt will be in the next few days. Go home."
"Well, I guess we can turn around and go back home," Sam advises Hannah. "Or we can go forward, try to save this goblin from these wyverns, then come back to the warm hospitality o' these ice cats."
"He's our prince though!" Rosy barks back. "You gotta let us go save 'im!"
"Silence, dog," the voice rumbles, loudly.
Hannah's heart seizes within her chest at this news but after a few moments, she shakes her head again. "I thank you for this information but I still cannot leave. If this goblin is indeed dead, then I must return his body to his people. And if he is not, I must do what I can to assist him." In a lower voice to Sam, she adds, "No one left behind, right?"
"Never met him, so we haven't left him behind yet, have we?" Sam says blandly. "This falls more under the 'We Explorers always find what we're lookin' for' part o' the code."
"Y-yeah, you cats don't want to make enemies of the Golden Hawks, right?" Rosy challenges back.
Hannah manages a small smile. "Ah. Then I stand corrected."
Sam adds dryly, "Now let's work on making this less likely to be fatal for us."
The air a few feet from Hannah coalesces into shimmering and furred feline shape. The creature is huge, easily the same mass as Peaches is and tall. His long arms are spread apart and it can actually touch each side of the passage they walk through. It lowers itself down so that it can be eye-level to Hannah. The fact that its claws cut and scrape deep into the ice, making a terrible screeching sound in the ice does not exactly do anything to lessen how dangerous these creatures may be. It leans forward until its large nose is mere inches from Hannah's own. She can feel its warm breath on her face and its piercing blue eyes seem to bore into Hannah's very soul. Its tufted ears flick for a moment after Rosy speaks. As it looks between the rest of the group and Hannah, it asks, "Who are you?" Uh, my does it have big teeth.
Peaches gives a warning whinny at the cat.
Hannah draws in a low, quick breath and very nearly drops the flamethrower she has in her hands. From behind, the others can see that she is trembling but she is still somehow able to nod respectfully to the large feline. "My name is Hannah. I am a member of the explorer's band known as the Golden Hawks. Would you...please...tell me whom I am addressing?"
Each breath from the great cat causes Hannah's hood and hair underneath to move. "I am Eis, chief of my tribe," he answers. His paws draw away from the walls and he settles down on all fours in front of Hannah. "But what you claim cannot be. That band has been dying our for Years. A few remain, if that. So, who are you?"
"Can it be you've not heard of the return of the Lord Explorer Thomas?" Sam wonders. "The fall of the Destroyer? The return of the Lost King?"
"Do not lie to me, fey, or assume I am a fool," Eis rumbles as he casts a sharp glare to the old man, "Thomas died a long time ago. That much we know from my great grandfather."
Hannah tries to contain her trembling as best she can as she answers, "As my friend Sam here says, the Lord Explorer returned to Mirari not long ago and began rebuilding what was left of the organization he founded. Indeed, I was trapped at Hawksmoor for a time with the few Hawks that remained, when there was an evil enchantment on the surrounding woods. But that enchantment has been broken and we are trying to forge ahead."
"Oh aye, and you played a part in the ensuing battles, don't be too modest, m'lady," Sam reminds Hannah.
Rosy pokes Sam in the leg. "Hey, the Destroyer didn't Fall! He succeeded and took his place in Historie!" she growls.
The minstrel oofs. "It sounds better in the bars when you don't try to explain picky little points like that."
"Do not move," the feline instructs as it raises one of its massive hands to Hannah's hood. With surprising gentleness, he pulls it back and then cups her lightly under her chin. Gentle, but firm, nudges move her head side to side as Eis examines her closely. "November born?" he asks.
"Yes," Hannah replies quietly, unable to take her eyes from the frozen blue ones examining her face. "My father...is Lord November. I left my family and position to join the Hawks."
"You have the look of the wild in your eyes," Eis says as he draws his hand away, "And determination. Perhaps some of what you say is true." The cat now looks to Sam, eyes narrowed slightly, "Tell me of this ... return and the man claiming to be Thomas."
"I met Lord Explorer Thomas reborn when I met him in a bar," Sam says, beginning the tale. He goes on from there to describe his growth into who he had been, and his adventures across the wilderness of Mirari and the battle against the Destroyer.
As Sam warms to his tales, Hannah leans towards Rosy and whispers, "You may wish to relax a bit. Sam's history may take a while - especially if he's in a descriptive mood."
"He sounds ... angry," the feline says after some thought. Eis' jaw rolls slightly, his large teeth clicking loudly against each other. "Thomas was an ally of my tribe; a ... friend of my great grandfather once," he finally says, "Still, that was the past. Now ... now, I wonder if there is any worth in reviving old friendships."
"Hard to relax when there are big mean kitties surrounding us," Rosy whispers, her tail between her legs now. "Maybe.. I could distract them with some string?"
Hannah gives the doglin another of her lopsided grins. "Might need a rope, considering their size," she whispers back.
"Tell me, Hannah of November," Eis says, "Do you insist on going on? You must realize success is unlikely. Do you you believe this ... group has any chance against the wyverns of the peaks?"
"He has changed in some ways since the old days, less bitter and angry, I should say, but in others he is every bit the same - the man who thinks nothing of leaping across a wyvern's back, who would risk anything to save his friends, who seeks and who always finds what he seeks." Sam shrugs. "How was it that Tom proved himself an ally to your forefathers, good cat?"
"That would be a tale best told my my great-grandfather," Eis admits and rolls his shoulders in a shrug.
"Is your great-grandfather still around?" Rosy asks cautiously.
Hannah thinks about Eis' questions for a while. Then she replies, "We may indeed fail. In fact, two of our number have been overtaken by some sort of magic already. And I doubt any of us have experience with wyverns, except perhaps in song," she adds, her eyes twinkling a little at Sam. "But the Golden Hawks do not turn away those who come to us honestly, seeking our help. So yes - I must go on."
"He fell in battle when the wyverns last attacked our home. A Year or so ago, perhaps a bit longer. They took him when he fell to their lair. What they did to him ... I cannot say, but I can guess//," Eis rumbles as he looks over his shoulders, towards the mountains now hidden in nightfall. "Now, as for you. I am inclined to believe you, if for nothing else, than the insanity he supposedly showed seems to run true in your blood as well. Anyone sane would not go seeking death. So, that leaves one more matter to attend to."
"We don't have any fish!" Rosy yelps.
Sam looks over at Hannah. "Insanity? What insanity?"
Princess Peachblossom seems to take the cat's words seriously, and stamps a hoof in agreement.
Hannah knows what they discuss is grim, but she can't help smiliing at the mention of Thomas' 'insanity.' "Well, the Lord Explorer is from House November, himself. Perhaps insanity just runs in the family? As removed by the generations as it is."
"You may pass on one condition," the feline says, seemingly deciding something.
"What is your condition?" Hannah asks.
"You will be the guests of the tribe tonight. We will even allow the dog to come," Eis says simply. "You will not get far in these mountains at night and I imagine your provisions are poor. We will honor the old alliance and aid you in what ways we can."
The doglin crosses her arms and grumbles at the 'dog' remark.
At last, Hannah attaches the flame thrower back onto her pack and bows to the feline. "I am honored by your invitation," she says sincerely. "We accept your offer. Thank you. By the by, the...er...dog, as you call her, is named Rosy. I'm sorry I didn't introduce her before."
"Is she housebroken?" the cat asks.
Sam has long since stowed his flamethrower, since he needed his hands free for story-telling. "I'm Minstrel Sam, long-time companion to the Lord Explorer, but he asked me to keep Hannah company for this little jaunt," he says cheerily, bowing. "Er, well I haven't had to take her for a 'walk' yet if you know what I mean."
"Yes," the girl replies, her lips twitching suspiciously.
Rosy just mutters something about litter boxes..
"/Will you please bathe her, then, when we reach our homes? I do not want that reek permeating things," Eis say as he slowly stands back up on two legs. That action re-enforces just how large these creatures are. And without warning, Eis throws his head back and /roars/. The sound seems to echo and vibrate all around them. A few seconds pass, and several other roars follow; some in from, some behind, some above. At a guess, five to ten others. They /had/ surrounded the small group.
Sam squeaks a bit. "Glad you didn't try for the 'fight' option," he whispers to Hannah.
Hannah is now glad she had her hands free, because she uses them to cover her ears at the roaring! It reverberates off the ice and makes her head hurt for a minute. When she can hear again, she murmurs to Sam, "That would've happened only if we were forced into it."
Peaches doesn't like the noise, and stamps her hooves in alarm.
Rosy, on the other hand, howls along with the felines.
When the noise finally dies down, Eis says, "Come." He turns and walks into the cold night. The air shimmers behind them as two others seem to fade into view from where they were hidden and walk right by the group, seemingly disinterested in that special way only cats can manage.
Show offs, Peaches thinks, giving a snort.
Sam gives Rosy ad Hannah a look that seems to say 'And who gets to wash the doglin?'
"We may wish to use our lenses again to follow them, just in case," Hannah says to the others, putting hers up to her eye. Then she follows the tribe leader into the darkness. For some reason, she seems to be ignoring Sam's questioning look just now...
Sam pulls his heafscarf up again and follows. Well, Tom had friends among the cats. How interesting!
Snow, snow, and more snow. It wouldn't be so annoying if it weren't for the fact the cats extremely large hands and feet make it possible to walk on the snow without sinking too deeply. They make traversing the snow look so easy. After about half an hour the cats seem to tire of the slow pace and actually pick up Hannah and Sam and just carry them on their backs. Rosy, though, is stuck riding on Peaches.
Peaches watches the cats closely. She doesn't want Hannah to enjoy riding Eis more than riding her after all.
Hannah rides on the back of Eis in silence for a little while, then leans in close to his ears. "May I ask your advice, please?"
"Mm? Eis prompts.
In back, Sam is trying to get to know his cat, which involves questions like "You've got a name, right? Is it true cats have three different names?"
"Three names?" Rosy has to ask. "Name horders!"
"Before coming into these mountains, we had to pass through a cave of traps designed by the Bandit Queen, Elysia," Hannah explains. "That was where we had to leave behind two of our number, as I told you earlier. A knight of House April and his Knightsteed. They are now frozen by some sort of spell, alive but unable to move. The keeper of that place told us that they could only be freed by the claws of a creature of ice. Do you happen to know what he might have meant?"
"Yes I have a name. Yes, I have true. And before you ask more, remember that we do not often give straight answers," the feline Sam rides answers with a softer chuckle. Er, wait, Sam's riding a girl, it looks like.
"Elysia," Eis rumbles darkly, "There is a name I have not heard in a long time. She was once a cause of great misery for us. For many." The question, though, seems to give the cat pause, "The spell ... it may have been crafted from the essence of a creature of ice; its soul, perhaps. If so, only the touch of another may be able to shear through it. Or more specifically, one of the same type. Do you have any clues as to what type it may have been?"
"I wonder if they have any toys," Rosy comments to Peaches. "I used to have this soft bone that squeaked." The Knightsteed just rolls her eyes.
Sam explains to Rosy, "There's a song that goes, o First of all there's the name the clan uses daily, such as Ripper, Death of Mice, Carumble or Flame, all of them sensible, everyday names... o" He continues in that vein a bit - evidently there're public names, formal names, and True Names. "I always wondered if it was just poesy or if the writer had met some actual clans of cats."
"No," Hannah sighs. "That was all the keeper told me. I did see the knight and his steed before we left, though. They looked as if they were covered in a thin layer of ice and snow, immovable."
"A wyvern or lesser dragon is the most likely source, but magic is not my specialty. Perhaps you will find what you seek in the peaks above," Eis offers after a short bit of thought. He looks towards the other felines traveling with them and chuffs out something to them in some in an unknown language. One nods and darts on ahead.
"Perhaps," Hannah agrees. "Thank you for your help." Then she lapses back into silence, a melancholy look on her face.
"Ah, they're just big ugly birds," Rosy reassures Hannah. "With, like, scales and fangs and probably breath fire or ice or have really bad breath. And wow, I wouldn't want to be a statue around them.."
It's about another hour before the cats follow a barely seen divergence in the path they were on and slip through the mouth of an old cave. Odd crystals line the wall that glow with a peculiar blue light. The cave itself is fairly warm compared to the outside. Best of all, there's no more wind in here! Its another five minute walk and the group makes the final turn for the night. Stretching out before them is a huge cavern full of ruined buildings. Once this may have been a great city beneath the earth, full or ornate pillars and great houses. To the Fey's eyes, most likely dwarven make. Its funny how the diminutive dwarves had such a fondness for huge buildings and tall ceilings. In the strange blue light, the group can make out several more groups of felines lounging about .... and oh dear, several smaller and very puffy looking children darting about and pouncing on each other.
Hannah opens her cloak now that they are in a warmer area and looks about her, enthralled. "I didn't know there had been a dwarven city way out here," she murmurs.
Sam looks about with interest. "Well, it looks like dwarven work but y'never know - did your people make this place?" he inquires of his kitty-mount.
"Found it. It was abandoned, if that is what you also wish to know. We did not devour its residents," the cat answers, "Dwarves are poor eating. All sinuey and hairy."
"I am sure the dwarves are eternally grateful that you find them so unappetizing," Hannah says, her voice gently teasing.
"I'm just gonna stay on the horse if that's okay," Rosy whines, eyeing the boisterous kittens.
"They do make entertaining toys for the children, though ... if you find one hairy enough. Not unlike a large ball of yarn," the cat adds after some thought.
Sam curiously wonders, "What do cats like to eat then?"
"Fey" the cat answers with a straight face.
"I like rats," Rosy assures Sam, trying to prove why canines are superior to cats.
Hannah swallows hard and looks at Sam. "You had to ask..."
Eis rumbles briefly. "Enough. They are guests, do not make them nervous silly lies," he admonishes the other. "We often live off the mountain rams and other such prey that tend to live in these lands. We do not eat fey. They taste worse than dwarves and talk about no meat at all..."
Sam opines, "I'd always figured fey were too insubstantial and sweet to be good eating, not that I've ever tried any." He grins over at Hannah. "Relax, they've got Tom's sense of humor, that's all."
"Which may explain why they got along," the old fae mutters.
"Oh, so they were only joking about the bath then?" Rosy asks, perking up.
Sam shakes his head, "No, that part I'm pretty sure they were serious about."
Hannah just shakes her head and says to Sam, "Well, not all fae are insubstantial. Although I'm sure 'too well fatted' is not exactly what they would look for in a meal, either..."
Peaches whinnies. All this talk about what the cats like to eat is making her nervous. There's nothing insubstantial about her after all.
The cats lounging about the cave flick their blue eyes towards the strange creatures that have just come in. The look is one of wariness tainted with distrust. "Do not let the others worry you. Fey are ... not normally trusted. Your kind often hunted us for our pelts, or drove us from our homes, in ages past," Eis explains as he heads towards a worn house on the edge of the 'town'. "I will explain to them later that you are not to be harmed."
"We very much appreciate that," Hannah replies, trying not to wither under the stares of the other felines.
Sam says to Hannah, "Relax! And be glad that we've got Rosy, not one of the other kinds of goblins."
Rosy overcomes her fear for the moment and strikes poses to the onlookers, living up her to 'Glammer Girl' status.
And in return Rosy gets growled at.
"Cats can be so catty," Rosy mutters, and goes back to moping.
Eis draws to a stop in front of the worn building and crouches down. The other feline does the same for Sam. "Make yourself at home here. There is a warm spring about three hundred feet east of here where you can bathe your dog," Eis explains, "Give me an hour to explain to the others that you are guests and then you may explode the city if you wish." And with a nod towards a house in the distance on a smaller hill in this cavern, he adds, "And that is my home should you need to find me before the morrow."
Sam nods. "All right, I'll take care of Rosy, Hannah, if you take care of the campsite, sounds like a deal?"
Hannah nods gratefully back to Sam as she slides off the feline's back. "Sounds like a deal," she agrees. "Thank you." To Eis, she bows and says, "Thanks to you as well for your hospitality and trust. I shall do my best to be worthy of it."
"I know how to wash myself you know," Rosy mutters...