### Chapter 57: The Journey North Continues
The group set off from the hidden grove after a day's rest, their spirits bolstered by Bren's triumph in the trials and the revelations from Zephyros. The grove's gifts lingered with them: Bren exuded an aura of newfound strength and confidence, while Trill carried a pouch filled with rare seeds and alchemical ingredients he'd gathered during their stay. Lyra and Vas, though less directly affected by the grove, found themselves more cautious and reflective after witnessing the power of the Earth-Blood.
The terrain grew harsher as they pressed deeper into the volcanic mountains. The air was thinner, colder, and carried with it a biting wind that seemed intent on testing their resolve. They encountered small skirmishes along the way—bands of mountain predators emboldened by the scarcity of food, rogue mercenaries looking for easy prey, and strange, corrupted creatures that seemed to be remnants of Malgrin's spreading influence.
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### Small Battles and Growing Bonds
In one such skirmish, a pack of frost direwolves ambushed the group during a narrow ascent. The creatures, their fur thick with frost and their eyes glowing an unnatural blue, moved with terrifying coordination.
"Watch the flanks!" Bren called out, drawing her blade and taking up a defensive stance.
Lyra darted to the side, her bowstring singing as she loosed arrows with precision. "Got it! Just keep them off me!"
Trill, ever resourceful, summoned a tangle of thorny vines that erupted from the frozen ground, ensnaring two of the wolves mid-charge. The creatures howled in frustration, their icy breath freezing the vines as they struggled to break free.
Ares, his twin axes gleaming, charged into the fray with a feral grin. "Finally, something to warm up with!" He engaged the largest of the wolves, his strikes precise and brutal, though his movements were surprisingly graceful for his size.
The battle was short but intense, leaving the group winded but unharmed. Bren wiped her blade clean, glancing at Trill. "Your summons keep getting more creative."
Trill smirked. "You're just jealous I can multitask."
Lyra rolled her eyes. "Save the flirting for later, you two. We still have a mountain to cross."
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### Arrival at Callaway
After a week of travel punctuated by battles and brief rests, the party finally crested a ridge to behold Callaway. The city sprawled across a plateau nestled between jagged peaks, its stone buildings sturdy and angular, built to withstand the harsh mountain climate. Smoke rose from countless forges, mingling with the crisp mountain air and giving the city a distinct metallic tang.
Callaway was a city of the Nords, a proud and hardy people known for their mastery of arcane crafting and blacksmithing. The streets were filled with stocky, broad-shouldered individuals, their calm demeanor betraying little of the berserk fury they were capable of when provoked.
As the group entered the city gates, they were greeted with the sounds of hammer on anvil, the hum of magical wards, and the lively chatter of merchants hawking their wares.
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### The Callaway Bazaar
The marketplace, or "Callaway Bazaar," was a labyrinth of stalls and workshops, each overflowing with exotic goods and crafts. Trill's eyes lit up as he spotted a vendor selling rare plant seeds and alchemical ingredients.
"Go on," Bren said with a smirk. "I can see you're itching to spend some coin."
Trill didn't need further encouragement. He darted toward the stall, his enthusiasm drawing a laugh from Lyra. "He's like a kid in a candy shop," she said, shaking her head.
While Trill bartered with the vendor, Ares and Vas took in the sights. Ares was particularly interested in a weaponsmith demonstrating a newly enchanted axe, while Vas seemed more preoccupied with the locals, particularly the women who returned his flirtatious smiles with amused tolerance.
Bren, meanwhile, kept a watchful eye on their surroundings. Her instincts told her they weren't the only ones seeking something in Callaway.
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### Clues and Shadows
At the seed vendor's stall, Trill came across a plant he'd never seen before: a dark, glossy seed that pulsed faintly with an internal light. The vendor, an older Nord with soot-streaked hands, leaned in conspiratorially.
"You've got a sharp eye," the vendor said. "That there's a Shimmerwood seed. Rare, even in these parts. Legend says it only grows in places touched by the Sherpa."
Trill's heart skipped a beat. "The Sherpa? What do you know about them?"
The vendor shrugged. "Not much, I'm afraid. Just rumors. Travelers passing through speak of a Sherpa enclave further north, beyond the mountains. Dangerous territory, though. Few make it back."
Trill purchased the seed, his mind racing with possibilities.
---
Unbeknownst to the group, their presence in Callaway hadn't gone unnoticed. In the shadows of the bazaar, figures watched their every move, their intentions unclear. Among them was a cloaked figure with a serpent tattoo coiling up their neck—a mark Trill recognized from his encounters with Malgrin's followers.
The figures whispered among themselves, their eyes narrowing as they observed Trill's party.
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### Reconvening
The group regrouped near a food stall selling hearty Nord stew. Trill shared the information he'd gathered, his voice low so as not to be overheard.
"A Shimmerwood seed," he said, holding up the glossy seed. "The vendor said it's connected to the Sherpa. There might be an enclave north of here."
Bren frowned. "Might be? That's not much to go on."
"It's more than we had before," Lyra pointed out.
Ares nodded. "If the Sherpa are connected to Malgrin's movements, it's worth investigating. But we should be careful. We're drawing attention."
Vas glanced around, his usual jovial demeanor replaced with a rare seriousness. "I noticed that too. We're being watched."
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### Plans and Preparations
The group decided to spend the night in Callaway, gathering supplies and information before heading further north. While Trill visited more alchemical shops, Bren and Lyra scouted the city for potential threats. Ares and Vas kept to the crowded taverns, listening for rumors and gauging the mood of the locals.
By the time night fell, they had pieced together more clues. The Sherpa enclave was indeed north of Callaway, but the path to it was treacherous, guarded by more than just the harsh mountain terrain. Tales of strange creatures and ancient traps left by forgotten civilizations added to the danger.
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### Shadows Close In
As the group reconvened at their inn, the tension was palpable. Bren sat by the window, her hand resting on her sword hilt as she watched the street below. Lyra checked her bowstring, her sharp eyes scanning the shadows.
"We're not alone," Bren said quietly.
Trill nodded. "We weren't exactly subtle in the bazaar. If Malgrin's people are here, they'll want to know what we're up to."
Ares cracked his knuckles, a dangerous smile playing on his lips. "Let them come. I've been itching for a real fight."
Vas leaned back in his chair, his carefree mask slipping for a moment. "If they're working for Malgrin, they'll be more interested in following us than fighting outright. We should be ready for anything."
---
As the group made their final preparations for the journey north, the shadows outside the inn stirred. The serpent-marked figure from the bazaar slipped into an alley, their eyes gleaming with malice.
"Let them think they're safe," the figure whispered to their companion. "We'll strike when they least expect it."