Jinjer shakes her head, one corner of her mouth quirking up as she looks at Magnus.
"Don't bother," she replies in a condescending tone, "If you knew animals as well as I do you'd realize you won't find so much as a chipmunk showing itself within a mile of here, thanks to the wolves. They keep their heads down. So should we, for the time being."
She looks back up to the hill with a frown. "Was that another wolf? Biggest damn wolf I've ever seen, if'n it was."
"For the time being, let's see if we can get our foolhardy friend here back on his feet," Stilgar says, stowing away his hammer for the time being. Relieved as he was to get Gaius away in time, Jinjer's analysis of their situation troubled him.
Cure Light Wounds:
"At any rate, if they're under a spell of some sort, we have our ways of finding out. Might involve being uncomfortably close to them, though."
With the rush of battle winding down, Brodgar takes a seat and starts to favor the leg that had been savaged by the wolves. "I'm not overly inclined t' tangling with them again," he admits, "But if there's some fell magic afoot, we must see if we can figure out what it was about."
He then looks to his own wound and then to Gaius and remarks, "At least, if we can regather ourselves enough to go tromping about the woods."
Jinjer joins Magnus at the exit, covering him in case of an ambush. At first there is nothing, but looking up shows a figure perched on the lowest branch of a nearby tree. What you at first take to be an enormous bird of prey actually appears to be an avian humanoid. Its feathers are brown, beige and gray, fluffed up against the cold. A sharp, curved beak is topped by two large golden eyes, the head crowned in a crest of dove gray. At the bend of its wings are thin-fingered hands. A light woven harness carries its weapons and other gear.
"Greetings, landlings. I am Ioiocaraaacareeoaa, but you may call me Io. I have a package for you."
Frowning a bit at Gaius' sudden movement, Stilgar lends him a hand in getting up. Seeing that some of his wounds were still open, he made a mental note to make use of the healing kit he had on him when things settled down.
"The wolves appear to be gone, but it would seem that our contact has arrived," he says, looking to the door. Cautiously, he steps outside, glances about for the wolves, and then looks to Io with a curious expression.
Brodgar tenses up as the voice comes from without. Stilgar's invocation of Baal's blessing courses through him, alleviating both his injured leg and stressed mind.
"Think they're in retreat f' now," he answers Gaius. Assured that, for now at least, the half-elf isn't about to bleed out, he pushes himself up out of his chair and follows after Stilgar, favoring his right leg a bit.
He scans the hilltop, ever wary, before crossing his arms and looking to their visitor.
Io contemplates this for a few moments, then nods, apparently coming to a decision.
"I see no reason to doubt you. Our mutual friends would not have given you the signal if you weren't trustworthy."
Using its wing-hands, the akaara removes a leather bag from the harness it wears, transferring it to one of its taloned feet, proffering it without leaving the branch.
"Here is what you came for. There are instructions for its preparation as well as how and when to administer it."
Stilgar remains silent as Io looks over him, unsurprised by the avian's misgivings towards him. He does however chuckle over Brodgar and Magnus' summation of his situation.
No, I suppose I'm not a 'proper' dwarf by any means.
"Thank you, Io," he would finally say, as the package is passes to one of his companions. "Best of luck to you."
The avian's head cocks at an odd angle as it regards Magnus. When it speaks again you think there might be amusement in its voice.
"Attacked by wolves? I hadn't noticed. Their trail leads up to the hills. I'll go aloft and see what's become of the ones you left alive."
At that, Io launches into the sky, moving away from the hut in widening circles.
Several minutes later, Io returns, circling gently before coming to light again on the tree.
"The wolves have put some distance between themselves and you. It's unlikely they'll return. Strange that you were attacked. The wolves in this area don't often attack humans or dwarves, unless they're starving. There is plenty of game in the area for them."
"We had come to the same conclusion. Very odd indeed. Thank you, Io. " Turning to his allies, and gesturing to the supplies, Magnus says "...but the mystery of the wolf attack will have to wait. These supplies could be needed sooner than we think, and could be used to save lives. There are too many unknowns to leave to chance. We should take these to their intended recipients right away. "
"Well that will set the anthill abuzz. Thank you for the warning. You should make yourself scarce as well Io. The burrorwers have no love for the petrel-folk."
"We should head back now. If we are in town before the wounded patrol returns then we are less likely to be suspected." "Well no more than we are already I suppose."
"Clear skies and gentle winds to you," bids Io. With that, she launches herself skyward again, winging in wider circles as she gains altitude.
Your trip back to the farm is uneventful, but tiring due to the new-fallen snow. Your approach seems to be watched for, for as you approach the signal flag appears from the loft, indicating it is safe for you to approach.
All the herbs and fungus contained herein have medicinal properties. They also are not found within the confines of the Iron Marches. When you do see them, they are usually brought in by gnomish or halfling traders and command high prices. There is also a jar of small, fine crystals, which you determine to be an alkaloid salt.
As the group enters the barn, they find Evram and Ravenna still here, along with some others, though certain faces appear to be missing. More of them appear to be in the loft, bows in hand and eyes on the surrounding farmland.
When you hand off the satchel, Evram seems both pleased and relieved. He gives the bag off to Ravenna, saying "Get back to the caves." She nods, then leads a shaggy horse from a nearby stall and mounts. Two others open the barn doors and she rides out at an ambling gate, heading east.
As the doors are closed again, Evram turns back to your group.
"We owe you thanks. Those will be of great help to us. Now I believe I owe you some information. Best ask me the questions directly again, so I give you exactly what you want, or at least what I know."
"Well, you're not asking for much, are you?" asks Evram, as he settles on a stool and takes a pull from a nearby wineskin. "If that's how we begin, then here it is."
"The Hand of Jorin fights for the sovereignty of the human race. Ultimately, the dwarves will grant us the freedom to choose our own leaders and live by our own laws. Once Jorin, King of the North, ruled these lands. Now the dwarves claim everything both above and below. They take what they wish and humans labor hard to keep them satisfied."
"We harry the dwarves at every turn, taking from them to replenish what our people have lost. With the gods grace the dwarves will learn that keeping the yoke on us comes at too high a price. Any dwarven merchant or soldier that crosses the surface becomes fair prey."
Stilgar finds himself nodding at Evram's response, unsurprised by their motives. They were not so different from what he had preached before his incarceration. The humans' means however...
Deciding not to question the Hand's methods, Stilgar steps forward, a question of his own in mind. The question that started this whole escapade across the countryside. He wanted nothing more than to put the ideas of conspiracy and treachery swimming in his head to rest.
"The Thane's son, Grundar Ironfist. Who was it that killed him? And why?"