Scouting Party

Roland woke to the sounds of distant roars. It was still dark. How many hours it had been was impossible to tell. 

"What's happening?" He asked groggily, more to himself than anyone else. 

"Nothin' good, that's what." Jimmy replied, making Roland jump. 

"Gah! Why are you so close?" Roland squirmed away from where Jimmy had spoken almost directly in his ear. 

"Some kinda thanks I got, answerin' your question." The quarter-halfling spat in the dirt. 

"Your answer wasn't particularly informative, but I thank you for it nonetheless," Roland didn't even try to mask the sarcasm in his thanks. 

"You're welcome. Was that so hard?" Jimmy looked down. He'd settled back to where he'd apparently been sitting by the fire, continuing his whittling project. 

"How long was I asleep?" Roland stretched his neck and shoulders, which were aching from the unfortunate position of a tree root underneath his bedroll. 

"Long enough, I'd wager. Haf said I could take your watch cause you looked awful comfy there all snuggled up. Talkin' bout your girl in your sleep. Mighty precious." Jimmy smirked.

"My wife is no one for you to joke about." Roland gritted his teeth. He couldn't say for certain whether he had actually been talking in his sleep or if Jimmy was making the whole thing up. 

"Would I joke about Finn? She's just about my best friend." Jimmy raised his eyebrows. "Next to Mayra. When's that girl gonna get married? That soldier boy has his eye on her." 

"Jimmy. Are you honestly, seriously, earnestly trying to gossip with me, in the middle of the night, in the middle of a jungle, in the middle of an unfamiliar world, while strange, unknown, terrifying noises continue in the distance?" Roland wiped his hand down his face. Was this a bizarre dream? 

"Makin' conversation. It's polite. It's also polite to thank someone for doing you a favor like letting you sleep longer. I'll make note that you're awful cranky when you first wake up." Jimmy shook his head. "I don't know if that boy's good enough for Mayra, though. Course, I judge a woman mostly by how she cooks. I suppose there's other considerations." 

"Indeed. Thank you for taking my watch." Roland blinked at the strange man. "What is that you're whittling?" 

He'd been curious for a long time now, but had it in his mind that he would figure it out eventually, as it took shape. So far he hadn't been able to discern anything about the curious object. 

"Can't you tell?" Jimmy held the object aloft in the firelight. Roland eyed the man to see if he was being sarcastic, but the sincerity on his face gave him a moment's pause. 

He leaned forward to study the wooden object. It looked like… a lump of wood. Not even particularly smooth, it had several warped-looking edges and was lopsided. The silence stretched, and Jimmy huffed. 

"Not even a guess??" He demanded. 

"It's a…" Roland frantically searched in his mind for something the object might be. "A carved portal-maker?" 

"Lucky guess." Jimmy conceded. "Now that there's lots of worlds, I need a system, see. I figure I'll carve the sticks to look like the world they come from. This stick's from ours, so once I soak it in the right herbs from here, it'll be a good portaler to get home with in case the other way don't work." 

"What do you mean, if the other way doesn't work? I thought you knew all about this!" Roland whispered.

"I only ever been to our world and the Darkness, and now this one. I got my very educated theories, sure, but ain't had a chance to test 'em all. We get to find out together whether it all holds true." Jimmy tilted the object he held in the firelight to study it a little better. 

Roland shook his head in frustration. 

"How does that carving look like our world?" He pointed to the wood. 

"It looks EXACTLY like it," Jimmy held it up. 

"How??" Roland demanded. 

"What you mean, how? It's a perfect representation! Oh. I get it. You're givin' me a hard time cause of the mix up with the herbs and the babies. I can't blame ya. No need to go criticizin' a man's art over it though." The little man shook his head. "Almost hurt my feelins, there." 

Roland heaved a sigh and stood up. This conversation was going nowhere. 

"You really have no idea what that ominous sound is?" He asked a final time, ready to go find Haf. 

"I got my theories." Jimmy shrugged. 

Roland pinched the bridge of his nose, debating internally whether it was worth the trouble to ask, and how likely it was that Jimmy had any real information. 

"Tell me the theories," He sat back down, feeling defeated. 

"Well, since you asked so nice and polite-like, no." Jimmy glared at him. 

"Jimmy. Please tell me the theories." Roland tried again. 

"I'd rather not." Apparently he was going to pout about this. That was inconvenient. 

"All right, suit yourself," The Rhone prince stood again, abandoning his efforts with the stubborn whittler. 

"Fine way to treat a man who's your only way home," Jimmy was mumbling as he walked away. Roland was past caring. The sounds continued intermittently, but thankfully seemed to be concentrated deep in the jungle. Occasionally the ground shook slightly in response to the noise.

At least, Roland hoped it was the noise, and not the movement of something enormous enough to shake the ground under their feet. 

Winding his way around the campfires and sleeping men, he made his way to the edge of the camp nearest to the sounds. As he had guessed, Haf stood there, staring off into the night. 

A cloud moved, and suddenly things got noticeably brighter around them. Roland glanced up to where a large, full, green moon shined down. 

"That's interesting," He said. 

"Roland, good, you're awake," Haf said without turning.

"Yes. I'm curious about the noise, as I'm sure you are as well." Roland stepped up beside him to gaze into the jungle's shadows. 

"I've considered sending a scout, but as none of the men have much experience doing so in this terrain, I have hesitated to make that decision." Haf's brow furrowed. 

Was that a hint? Roland and Jimmy were the two most qualified for the task. Jimmy hadn't been asked, as far as he knew, but Haf seemed to dislike talking directly to the little man. 

Roland wondered if it was prejudice or a personal distaste for Jimmy's abrasive personality. 

"You're wanting me to go, aren't you?" Roland asked. 

"I will be frank with you, Nephew." Haf waved the sentry on his other side away so that they could have privacy of discussion. "By the right of succession, you are, or should be Commodore." 

"We've been over this, I cannot–" 

"Do not interrupt." Haf squinted at Roland, and the younger man fell silent. "Your experience on land is far greater than my own. Your knowledge of the workings of other worlds also seems more extensive, as well as your familiarity with the Void and its habits. I've already demonstrated a blindness to see Edmar's actions and motivations clearly. In every way you are more qualified to lead the expedition from this point onward. I would ask, no, command, that you do so." 

Roland gaped at the speech. Every individual qualification assigned to him was true in isolation, but surely Haf's leadership experience and knowledge of his own men was not to be underestimated in its importance. 

"Uncle, I don't think–" Roland tried. 

"Then at least begin by taking charge of a scouting party. Pick whom you will, report back when you believe is appropriate and advise on the best course of action." Haf interrupted him again. 

The Rhone prince closed his eyes and nodded. A small scouting party he could do. And, unfortunately, he knew just who to take with him. The light-footed man could practically disappear at will, even without transporting to the Darkness. 

"I'll report back in a few hours. Or by dawn. Or... when I can. Who knows, honestly," Roland grumbled. "Can I take that?" He pointed to a spare bow and quiver of arrows lying next to the guard station. 

"I would recommend that you do." Haf responded. 

Roland went back to the fire and grabbed his pack as well. He didn't know how long the scouting would be, or what he might need while he was gone. 

"Come on, Jimmy." He said to the little man. "Let's go." 

"Where to?" In the time Roland had been gone, Jimmy had roasted something on a stick and was now gnawing on it. It didn't smell particularly appetizing, but reminded Roland he should probably eat something before embarking on a journey of unknown duration into the wilderness. 

He took a tough, chewy cracker from his pack and stuffed it into his mouth. 

"We're going to find out if your theories are right or not." 

"You don't even know what they are," Jimmy protested. "You probably don't want any of 'em to be right." 

"That's encouraging. I'm sure you'll tell me on the way. Come on." Roland took his water skin and refilled it from the central supplies of freshwater the men carried with them. Idly, he wondered to himself if rainwater in this world was safe to drink or not. 

Jimmy shouldered his pack, and with a sour glance at his taller companion, the two set off into the dark jungle as another ominous roar shook the ground.