Sosir and the changing land

He had wandered in almost a perfectly straight line, following traces of the sun dirward. The lazily rolling hills and only slightly wooded meadows were crossed easily had they been bare terrain, but a crude trail had been dragged through them. Whether traders or foraging parties maintained it barely mattered. The grey skies left little warmth, but Sosirs fur and brisk walking pace left him comfortable.

Empty ancient farmhouses, made far more precisely than nornir or even ettin do, dotted the landscape. What was processed once in the mills, stored in the silos and planted on these fields Sosir could only guess at. A worker of metal and wood himself, he marvelled at their precise construction. Norns contented themselves with stacked branches and reeds, and even the most dedicated Ettin monuments were still made of stacked stones.

Hoary copper tubing and alchemical equipment filled the ruins, as if the production of food or other plant matter was merely an afterthought to the creatures that lived here, and their lives were dedicated to the persuit of knowledge and experiments.

All of it is falling into disrepair in these wooded hills and meadows. Wooden beams of precise specifications have rotted through, taking with them mortared brick walls. Mechanical parts of the mills are jammed, and once buzzing electrical parts now house birds and invading plants. Experimental equipment lies exposed under the open sky, now slowly fading into a tealish verdigris.

Again following the road, Sosir found primitive hovels and huts clustered by another dilapidated mill. The old and tired thing stands bent forwards, as an old man sagging his shoulders in weariness. Simple poles now support it, and the primitive and hasty attempt at repairs empathises the stark difference in ability between the original builders and its current inhabitants.

Cheerful chatter fills the cooling twilight air, and a bonfire in the center of the improvised hamlet illuminates purple mountain Nornir feasting by the mill, sippin from metal cups. The singing Nornir barely notice his arrival, but the few that do offer him a welcoming drink. The bitter liquid holds hints of spoiled fruits, but leaves his throat pained and a good sip. The Nornir looked as if at one time they had been lean, and all quite handsome.

By the fire sits a disillusioned Jotnar. Sosir had met one of the giants before, one he could even call a friend. Curious about the stumbling and confused Nornir around him, he seats himself by the fire hoping the jotnar might explain.

“Hey there, strange Norn. Yours is a new face.”

“You look miserable, tall boy. I don't know what these Nornir feast for, but you do not seem to share their mirth.”

The Jotnar slumps his shoulders even more, as if the words were a personal attack.

“There is nothing to celebrate, strange Nornir. They drink to drink, and I am to blame for it.”

The Jotnar admits he wished to bring back knowledge once lost to these once strong willed Nornir, having deemed them clever and proud enough.

“I taught them the basics of alchemy, yet the one lesson that stuck proved to be their weakness. I used these old alembics to explain how to concentrate fluids, something they quickly adapted to make strong spirits.”

“There is a fine line between witchcraft and progress, hoary Jotnar" ; Sosir barked.

 and the Jotnar looked even more miserable.

Sosir felt sorry for the miserable lump. Though his emotions were usually not so empathetic, the drink he was given had worked its strange magic. 

“I have met another Jotnar some time before, named Torsun. Last I saw him he had found willing and almost civilised students in the Nornir of the bramboo valley. My kind might be easily distracted, but not entirely hopeless.”

The grey giant looked up. The fine, almost fur-like plumage almost seemed to regain a little glimmer, as it puffed a little in surprise.

“Partway I can take you, tallboy, but I won't return there myself until my drive for adventure falters.”

Mimson sighed once again.

He said: “If you desire to stay here as little as I do, we could leave first thing in the morning. I have two apprentices, they might then be sober enough to leave with us. Without them no other can use the still.” 

Sosir nodded, and turned to the feasting Nornir. If they were as generous with food as they were with drink he would journey on a full belly tomorrow.

Sosir kicked the Jotnar and two youthful Nornir awake, handing them provisions and telling them to swiftly leave. Dawn was only edging at the land, the shrouds of morning haze not yet cleared from the fields.

The apprentices followed like idiot animals, Mimson trailed Sosir anxiously guessing at Sosirs reason for the hasty leave, expecting the still might have something to do with it. Sosir himself strode with a devilish mood, his head splitting with pain. It seemed the Jotnar all eased their nerves the same way, because Mimson spoke unendingly. 

He had chattered his way through the history of this land and the purple mountain norns as far back as his great-grandfather would have known it, until the travellers came upon a group of burly Ettins. The living automatons were dragging a heavy sled of bog-roots, potatoes and turnips over the trail.

Though furtive of their destination, they warned the travellers to stay on the beaten path dir, and retain their vigilance. Others had disappeared here and the woods off the path are changing strangely.

Sosir snarled:”you good for nothing doll-eyed machines, fearing the woods like a hatchling. That is the most basic advice.” Before they continued their journey, leaving the ettins to their task.

…and the three Nornir woke up late in the afternoon, their heads free of headaches and fully sobered. Mimson is gone, with no sign of a struggle either.

The apprentices, even sober, are young and helpless when it comes to rescuing their master. Sosir curses himself, knowing that he will go out to search for the giant. He had a suspicion who or what likely abducted him and despite the lack of tracks, he had an idea how to get closer to them.

With the students in tow he stepped off the trail. Pushing his way through the bushes and underbrush he searched for the strangeness the Ettins had described. This first started with unrecognised plants, but as they followed the clues even normal plants had been twisted into alien foliage.

Their progress was slowed by the denseness of the plants, and the two youths were becoming increasingly unnerved by the strangely undulating growths. Sosir knew there was barely any wind, and yet the dark greenery was swaying unnaturally, but the motion was harmless. He waited up for his young followers, and noticed the swaying was not exclusively reserved for the plants. One apprentice became slowly more inebriated, and drank from a small drinking bag. Without a word the drink was taken from the adolescent and emptied into the bubbling, greyish-green mud.

Along the depths of the wood the land itself turns strange, smooth hills become crags, which become canyons, deep dark green foliage eventually completely replaced the native trees and plants. Dark, sometimes slimy vines aid in the necessary climbing. As the plants actively and overtly now turn towards the little group, even the hardened Sosir feels somewhat unsettled.

Up and down seemed to change while walking, and gravity appeared inconsequent and indifferent to direction. 

Dour and tired did sosir march on, his followers frightened as they walked seemingly upside down, or sideways of low cliff faces. Stranger critters squelched in crevices and absurd foliage. Fluttering on translucent, fleshy wings were slug-newt like critters, a lineage which seemed common in these parts, as another larger newt-snail pitter-pattered on its many legs through the crevices and stone walls.

As they paused and sosir searched for tracks, one of the students managed to force apparently rotten fruits down his mouth. “What do you think you are doing?!” Sosir shouted once he noticed. He slapped the youth, and the vile filth the youngling spits out has nothing to do with natural fruits. 

“I’m sorry! I hoped to sate some hunger and to become numb, like after a drink! The things we've seen and the road we walked cannot possibly be, how can you be so calm!?”

“Perhaps I don’t frighten as easily as other Nornir. My kin perhaps filled that blank with other emotions. But you, you lot fear too much. I cannea concern myself with what is possible or not when it is right under my nose.” Sosir said softly. “And however unnatural, I refuse to lose my wits over some angry lettuce!”

The canyons of crumbling black rock and greyish green dust rolled under weary feet for what felt like days, the the night vever came. There was a dark tension in the air as if thunder was underway, but it never came. The labyrinthine gulleys almost. Too suddenly it made way for a more open terrain of alien vegetation and black spires. Pillars and mesas made of hexagonal stone. Sosir recognised one of the ancient and well made farmhouses in a desolate pile of twisting and writhing foliage. The overall outline and a little peek of the windmill vanes was telling, though he kept his observation to himself.

Deep in the heart of that bizzare wasteland the hesitant rescue party finds a meso perforated like a swiss cheese, the warrens showing the absurd life that called this biome home, and the wide gaze of Gestr sentinels. By one of the greater openings stood baskets and black stone jars, filled with the strangest, slimy seeds.

Sosir marched in, having experience with the furtive Gestr and their dependance on a terrifying reputation. Young Gestr scurried out of his way. He made a beesline straight through the tunnel deeper into the warrens, by the simple reduction that only the main tunnel could have been large enough to transport Mimson through.

It terminated in a great hall, a library of stone tablets centered about an elated Mimson. The sight was disorienting, as the Gestr had clearly no respect for the laws of gravity and piled their stone books just as happily on the ceiling and walls, or wherever they stood.

Mimson and some elder Gestr were engrossed in a discussion, argument or perhaps even idle chatter. Neither seemed to quite truly understand the other yet, but either appeared enthusiastic in their attempts.

A short loud, barking laughter suddenly distracted all in the hall.

Sosir was the one who laughed, but the emotion on his face was certainly no joy.

“We journeyed this way through that bizzarre backcountry, your two erudite charges have died a thousand deaths of fright and we’re starved like a grendel on a diet! Yet here we find you, the imperiled, happy like a rabbit in a carrot patch!”

The finely feathered giant cowered a little, the Gestr stared with confused fascination.

“please Sosir, I woke up here as confused as I could be, with no manner of relaying a message to you. These strangers cannot even understand me.”

Sosir spat on the moist clay floor, and legged off deeper into the warren. His anger was palpable by all and they let him be. As he walked away he faintly heard the students break down in panicked weeping, too frightened to follow him but immensely anxious in this strange place, surrounded by absolute strangers. The shallowly repressed fears and stresses of the journey proved too much now they no longer leaned on Sosir.

He walked through the damp and echoing halls, his anger denser than his shadow. He wandered the tunnels aimlessly, knowing that the furtive shapes slinking just beyond his sight in the darkness were the flabby and strange Gestr keeping an eye on him. Ignoring them, his keen ears picked up a soft hum deep into the warrens, a sound he recognised in his gut. Desolate tunnels led to a great hall, bathed in a slight blue glow. His heart raced, his anger forgotten: before him in the center of the room hung a swirling blue portal, footprints and clean floors showed frequent use. 

Every time he had stepped through a portal he had met more troubles, yet ached for the potential adventure. He recalled when he was a young, standing before the same choice. He didn’t even hesitate back then.

He sighed and turned away from the portal. “Perhaps I am wiser now.” he thought as he walked back.