Your food stores hold out over the next few days, but game remains scarce. Lisabett and Shalelu are able to bring down some birds and rodents, but you do not catch sight of anything so large as a stag. There are no wolves either; the last you saw were of the pack you encountered south of Galduria.
The sprawling expanse of the Churlwood comes into view in the mid-morning, but it is just before noon when you finally reach it. The forest is thick and green, and seemingly unaffected by the strange affliction that seems to have fallen upon the land.
Sandru calls for a halt thirty paces from the tree line. "You spoke of the need to scout the trees before we brought the wagons through them. Find us a path, and do so with due haste." The Varisian looks up at the sky uncomfortably. "I feel a summer storm coming."
Lisabett speaks not a word during the days in the forest, preferring ranging and scouting to being in the camp, and is never in the presence of either Sandru or Shalelu for longer than she need be. Whatever hostility they harbor for each other, she wants no part of.
When they reach the tree line, Lisabett walks about carefully, stabbing at moist bits of earth with her javelins and stomping, occasionally touching her growling and rapidly shrinking belly, wondering if she really has the power necessary to mimic a full wagon traveling over the rough patch of earth.
"Here," Lisabett cries hoarsely as she comes across the trail through the forest.
Survival checK
Perception check:
Almar nods:"Yes, that's the way I'd choose too."
The caravan has just barely made it under the canopy of trees before peals of thunder ring across the sky.
It is clear that this was, at least at one point, a well-used road. The forest has gone a long way towards reclaiming it, however. Indeed, the wilds seem beyond healthy within the bounds of the Churlwood. The forest oozes with life under the steady trickle of rain.
A family of deer darts across the track, not fifty paces in front of the lead wagon.
"At last." Shalelu is already stringing her bow. "Who is with me?"
"I'm no huntsman," Raziel laughs, "So best if I remain with the caravan."
The gunslinger shakes his head:"Not my line of work. I trust Lisabett and you will be enough to replenish our stocks of venison"
Lisabett, finding no reason to speak, eased a javelin into her hand and forward with Shalelu, her expression and features predatory. With her shock of blonde hair standing out and up at angles, and kinked by the moisture in the air, Lisabett looks most at home in this setting, far from the rigors of civilization. She licked moisture from her lips and then looked to Shalelu before cutting to the left, meaning to flank their quarry for maximum effectiveness.
As the two huntresses disappear into the brush, Sandru flashes a smile to the rest of you. "Perhaps we should take a respite, while they follow their prey. I've no doubt they could find us, but I'll not take an unnecessary chance now."
"Why make a change now?" Ameiko teases. Her jests have been a rarity lately, but she seems in relatively high spirits.
Your Varisian captain just smiles back at her.
"We should tie everything down before the storm hits. Unless it passes quickly, it seems unlikely we'll travel more today regardless of what the path ahead is like."
You follow the deer for a good ten minutes before you and Shalelu are able to get on both sides of them. Your javelin brings down one doe, and Shalelu's arrows fell the buck. The other female freezes in place, standing in defense of her fawn.
"Yes." Sandru agrees. "Tie everything down."
After a few moments, you feel you have secured the wagons sufficiently.
Setomi help the others tie down any loose items on the wagons. She also double checks the provisions, making sure that they are secure, and if possible, safe from water damage.
"YAH!" Lisabett snarls, rushing forward sans weapon equipped to startle the doe and fawn into running away. Ideally, they should have killed both does and allowed the male to father more fawns, but... it was just as well that the fawn may become a buck itself some day, Lisabett certainly could not tell the sex of the creature as her tummy was sorely aching for fresh meat.
"Let make quick work of the butchering," Lisabett says to Shalelu when the animals have scattered, pulling her parring knife from her stocks. "Do not wish for any fond of the smell of blood to track our kill back to the camp with the Mother and Lady within. Though you might take the buck's antlers back for a trophy," she suggests and shrugs, and begins digging into the meat.
Lisabett creates water to wash blood from her hands and tools before they return to the caravan, but there is more on her sleeves and on her pants. When she returns to the caravan she is smiling broadly, though any who would care to or have the skill note that the scar beneath her left eye is that particular shade of purple that indicates a very deep and very recently healed cut that does not move easily with the flesh of her face.
The doe and fawn flee at the Lisabett's shout. Shalelu has already pulled her own skinning knife and set to work.
"I have no need for such a trophy, though I will find a use for the antlers, in honor of the creature." the elf replies. "As for leaving a blood-scent behind us...that which hunts in the Churlwood will not need such a thing to find us." She is silent for the remainder of the skinning and butchering.
When Lisabett and Shalelu return to the caravan, it is easy to sense the enthusiasm over the meat they bring.
"Well done." Sandru smiles at Lisabett, seeming to ignore the elven huntress. "We've at last something for Setomi to truly work with."
Lisabett makes no attempt to hide her approach from either Sandru or any else that might be watching.
"I wished to express, Captain, that I am grateful that you allowed me to join your group. I have no... place south, and I will be killed in the north," her words to the effect lack any emotion, she is simply stating a fact. "As your scout I have purpose, and some dignity," she touches the scar beneath her left eye briefly and frowns, then dips her head in a salute. "Thank you."
"Do you travel north thinking you will find your death, Lisabett?" Sandru's brow furrows. "I assure you, I have no intention of letting that happen."
The dripping of the rainwater from the trees overhead beats out a steady, soothing cadence. As light fades, the sounds of the forest seem to resonate throughout the wood. This forest is very much alive.
Raziel peers into the forest intently, watching.
Almar helps securing the caravan, oblivious to everything else transpiring into the forest.
Lisabett inhaled. Her general inclination was to avoid Sandru's reproach, but it was her cowardice that had caused her current predicament, on the part of her mother for giving her away, her father, her uncles, and finally herself for not trusting in her abilities.
"Desna has shown me one destination since my rage manifested in magic rather than the strength to lay waste to my enemies like the proud warriors of my lands, and it is cold and it is barren," Lisabett seethes. "What else am I to believe than that is where She means for me to die? I have nothing!" she exclaims and looks towards where Ameiko has retired for the evening .
Lisabett shakes her head sadly, her rage simmering. "I have nothing," she repeats, then settles at a less populace spot to meditate.
"That is not the way of Desna." Sandru Vhiski sighs as Lisabett turns from him. "But if you enjoy being doomed, who am I to offer comfort?" His voice is sardonic, but the half smirk he usually wears when making a jest is absent. The Varisian's temper has emerged, but he does not utter another word. He walks the other direction, making a pretense at checking a wagon he has just inspected.
Lisabett, having expended no spells, stubbornly stays awake most the night, finally slumping over some time close to dawn. She taps her eyes and nods to whomever is on charge, then makes a circle around the camp, checking if any manner of creature crept into the vacinity during the evening she might have missed.
The rain continues throughout the night, but the thick layer of trees above you seems to protect you from the storm. As dawn comes, it finally stops. The preparations you made when the storm began have prevented your gear from being waterlogged, but most everything is now damp. Even as the warmth of the summer day begins to make itself known, you feel an unshakable chill.
The trail through the Churlwood seems to continue forward, though it is difficult for the wagons to navigate certain stretches of it. Eventually, it connects to another, larger road, coming from the east and continuing north.
It is mid-afternoon when you find them: a handful of Ulfen men, adorned in scale and hide, their beards well-groomed. But where there should be flesh, there is only hard rock; these figures are frozen in stony silence.
Almar inspects the statues:"This is strange. These seem like pretty good and realistic statues... but who had reason for putting them here? And the subject? Some sort of warning for Ulfen raiders maybe?"
Lisabett swears in Skald as she walks through the men. She pays particular attention to their faces, to see if she could recognize a one.
"These are no mercenaries," she comments, however, touching the beard of one. "Else, they are very... proud," she says, almost whispering the last, finding more reason to be ashamed with herself after her conversation with Sandru.
The foliage at their feet has been crushed under their boots, but it looks as if they had just veered off the road you now travel; it appears they had been heading south.
The stone men look as if they are on the verge of combat. Three have weapons drawn, while the two others appear to be pulling their swords from their sheaths. One of the latter is squatting, as if standing up from sitting.
"This does not bode well," Raziel calmly says in an understated tone.
Under his calm demenor, his minds races. What manner of circumstance could do such a thing? Will we fall prey to the same forces? Should I have pushed for concidering to travel o the usual route? Surely the mad Ulfens after us would be less of a problem than this...
Lisabett stops at one warrior, staring up at his helm. "This man looks familiar," she says, and then shakes her head. "Perhaps if I could see his eyes," she apologizes.
"This is no way for a warrior to die. You have not the look of the blood upon you, or of raiders," she says. "Whatever purpose you had, you serve now a caution to others..."
Lisabett speaks in her native tongue as she examines the men, and her voice is sad.
"They did not deserve this," Lisabett says in the trading tongue finally, "but I cannot see as to removing their example for others that might pass. As a cautionary measure..." Lisabett frowns and shakes her head again.
Almar looks at Lisabett, puzzled:"This what, exactly? I agree it's strange to find statues here... but surely this is all they are... statues..."
"They were men," she informs Almar, having forgotten that she is the only magician in party . "Some magics turned them to stone, though I cannot say what. It is no spell of which I am aware. No creature of which I am aware could do this, either."
Sorin stares at the men for awhile and shakes his head.
"Is there any way to tell how long they've been like this?"
Lisabett kneels and attends the growth around them... carefully, after taking a step back. "I do not know how much growth should be expected in this area," she begins and concentrates.
Lisabett hisses a curse in Skald, and literally jumps back, and accidentally bumping one of the men, screams.
"H-high magics," Lisabett stammers, having fallen on her bottom. "There is no... The plants have grown beneath them, but there," she points to their tracks, "the track are fresh."
Lisabett looks to Shalelu. "Consider it a blessing we returned alive. Else..." Lisabett trails.
She looks to those assembled in the party, then to the men and their weapons, and picks herself up. With a breath, she summons the new magics inside her, and speaks the words that appear to her to define them and casts to nourish a plant near by.
Shalelu and I went with natural weapons to hunt for subsistence. These men came armored and with tools of war to... kill? Is intent enough to stave off this curse?
Almar seems concerned:"These men were turned to stone? If so we might have a big problem in our hands. And these are Ulfens, probably from the same group that attacked Galduria. I suggest we try to move out of this forest as quickly as possible..."
"A curse or a creature of some sort?" Sorin wonders aloud. "If it's a creature I certainly don't want it trailing after us. If it's a curse I'm not sure if it will matter how quickly we travel. Either way, this could be very widespread; possibly even affecting nearby villages. Perhaps it best if we discover the source of this foul magic. Before, we've wandered on without knowing what was going on and it rarely worked to our benefit."
Knowing he's unlikely to see anything, Sorin nevertheless looks areound with Detect Evil.
Assuming he sees nothing he asks Sandru, "What lies down these two roads? Is the north one the route we would otherwise take?"
Almar moves near Sandru and whispers:"Then we've better press on. I don't know what caused this, but I don't think we want to find out."
"I know it is not much to add, but I too feel that we should get through these woods as soon as we can," Raziel agrees with Almar.
Suddenly, a voice crawls into the back of your mind:
One of you,
One of you,
One of you,
Is unwelcome...
Shalelu lets out an impolite laugh. "Given due warning, you nevertheless proceeded to enter the Churlwood...and what's more, you did so under the pretense of investigating this so-called 'curse.' How quickly the bravery of men crumbles in the face of strangeness."
"I will not be spoken to in this manner." Sandru's words are slow and quiet, but they seem to silence the elf.
Almar gives Shalelu an akward look:"And what's your opinion about these happenings, Shalelu? I suppose one as well travelled as you knows a great deal about such things. If you can give us your word we can deal with whatever turned these men to stone, maybe we could keep exploring the forest. Cause my problem with this is I think we don't have what's needed to deal with curses such as these or with creatures like basilisks. But if you have proof of the contrary, you are welcome to prove me wrong. Otherwise, be gentle, and keep your petty wit for yourself"
"Silence, all of you!" Lisabett says sternly. "Look upon them. They died as one. Keep upon this track, and we may wander this wood for eternity, divided."
Lisabett strode up to Sandru, her blue eyes boring holes into his.
"Lead, I follow."
Setomi peeks her head out of the provision wagon to see what is going on. She frowns at Lisabett's outburst, but remains silent. She moves to sit on the buckboard with the driver; weapons on her lap.