After that exchange, the adventurers sit in moody silence for the night, distracted by their own thoughts.
The next morning dawns. The trail leads north, along the ridge and parallel with the lake shore.
"You've grown soft living in the big city, Illes. Never fear, a few days of proper open air living will put the right perspective on things again. Fresh air, the chill of the morning breeze, the clang of steel on steel - those make up the stuff of life and remind us that we must maximise every opportunity and grab every chance. Plush beds, fine wine... Those things make you slow and dull. Trust me, you'll thank us soon enough for restoring your edge and rekindling your inner fire."
Alwyn lights up his pipe and digs out his fishing line from his backpack. "I'll take first watch. And maybe I'll catch out breakfast while I'm at it."
Sefayll will rest as she must first, but she will be studying the giant's spellbook as much as possible for the rest of the night and morning.
If she can coordinate with Illes to be awake studying during his watch, she will try to engage him in a conversation regarding tactics. "I know I am not capable of wreaking the havoc that your cousin is with his singular focus, but hope that we might be able to coordinate our efforts to maximize our effectiveness."
sure.
The sun is bright but the air is cool in the morning. The trail winds through the trees and along the ridge parallel with the lake shore. The mules cover the rough path easily and, so far, make no complaint. Small birds twitter and flutter about amid the pines and raptors circle in the developing thermals above. In sunny spaces and clearings flowers grow chest-high and drone with bustling bees.
There is little sign that anyone has passed this way recently, although a few broken branches as large footprints indicate that ogres are about. The lake is similarly deserted, with no boats. There is a tiny settlement at the south end of the lake, but that isn't visible from here, and further north wilderness and giants rule.
Late in the morning, as the termperatures rise and now make it uncomfortable to march in armour, the path forks. One heads downwards towards the lake shore, the other upwards towards some sheer clifffs.
By the next morning Illes surly mood has passed and he rattles on and on about what the gang was missing back in Sandpoint by hitting the road again. "I mean, I dare you to pay for a drink in the tavern! We are heroes man! People are lining up to buy the next drink. And that ain't all they are lining up for. Hell- I try to drag Vethran out of that little dump of his to get him in on the action and the bastard waylays me with his damn sorcery. He's got another thing coming when I see him again. I was just about to meet up with this little redhead-" and on and on until everyone is getting a taste of just how tired of it Vethran must have been.
When the group stops for a moment to ponder the fork in the path he offers, "Better to take the high road. From what I've seen on maps the river here feeds into the lake from a waterfall. Low path will end up with us looking a cliff face and losing the mules."
Alwyn nods along with Illes' tales while keeping an eye out for ambushers.
"Damn, Illes; you got a hard life. Let's do what Illes sez; having mules is a good thing."
"Agreed. The high road is the better choice."
The adventurers take the higher path. The ground to one side begins to drop away and rises on the other, and soon they are picking their way along a narrow track across the face of a sheer cliff. Above is rock and blue sky, and below a jumble of boulders and the lake. The path itself is reasonably easy to traverse in most places, and the mules are soothed by Illes flute and don't make a fuss.
After about an hour of careful progress, the path reaches a shoulder and widens out on to a broad pasture ringed with pine-clad cliffs. It slopes down slightly to the east before ending abruptly in a long drop to the lake, offering panoramic views in that direction. To the south broods the summit of Hook Mountain, now stripped of its menace following the slaughter of the Kreeg ogres. And north-east, perhaps a mile away, the meadow falls away into a gorge - the north end of the Coal Rover where it flows into the lake and the route into the Iron Mountains.
Where the path reaches the grass sits a cairn, perhaps twenty feet high, made up of heavy boulder piled one on the other in a rough, but surprisingly closely interlocking, pyramid of monumental rocks.
"Ohh, likes like we are moving between different Stone Giant Tribal boundaries. I wonder if they are working together?"
The amble across the meadow in the sunshine is pleasant. It has the advantage of being a wide-open space so that any approaching enemies can be spotted far off. It also has the uncomfortable disadvantage that the party of travellers are also highly visible from a multitude of distant vantage points on the surrounding cliffs and crags on either side of the river.
The travellers reach the river. It runs below them in a deep ravine, the waters white and foaming as they tumble over a series of cascades and around the huge boulders that choke its course. The roar of the gushing water and the shattered tree trunks jammed between the rocks, washed down from higher up, speak of the river's power.
Following the side of the gorge north, away from the direction of the lake, the pasture gradually narrows and gets steeper, rising towards the cliffs that ring it. Slabs of stone begin to jut from the grass as the meadow gives way to precipitous bare rock and pine forest. The path begin to tilt sideways down into the gorge, making walking increasingly tricky, but before any climbing becomes necessary the adventurers reach a set of wide, deep switch-back steps that climb the cliff above. The stairs are thick with a layer of fallen brown pine needles. They appear to be designed for giants rather than human-sized creatures, but are still better than traversing the cliff by rope and fingertips.
The enchantress comments as they look down at the rushing water, "This time of year should be low water. When it's high, those rocks and trees will be carried away like children's toys." She looks up at the sky before adding, "But a good rain upstream could make it very dangerous to cross. If we are needing to get to the other side, we best pay attention to the weather upslope."
"That makes sense. Thankfully, nobody seems to have walked this way in ages. Look at how thick the pine needle blanket is on the stair."
"Thus, I'd expect a potential guardian to be something that has no need to move. Traps, maybe a golem. Keep alet, even if we seem alone."
"Well, I can't make out anything dangerous ahead. We heading up?"
Illes eyes follow the stairs snaking up the cliff. "Barely anything left now. Can you imagine what this place must have looked like in its heyday? Hard to imagine giants organized into much more than raiding parties." Shaking his head he looks back at the group, "Looks like the end of the road for our mules."
Illes' pessimism about the mules being able to manage the stairs turns out to be unfounded. It is a struggle at times, and hard work on the legs, but the adventurers and their faithful pack mules haul themselves up the steps. They climb steadily as the walls of the gorge become steeper. The stairway emerges from the forest and into the sunlight and soon the party are winding about the crags above the churning river far below. Up ahead, about half-a-mile to the north, the Coal River arcs resplendently over a waterfall over a hundred feet high, dropping to a boiling pool below. From this vantage point, the eye can follow the line of the stairs as they lead up to the cataract.
After perhaps another hour's climbing, the adventurers reach the waterfall and the end of the steps. With aching legs they consider the land beyond. Above the cascade, the Coal is more placid, flowing through a wide U-shaped hanging valley bounded by high cliffs. The bottom of the valley is grassy, with forest on either side below the sheer rocky walls. To the north, the peaks of the Iron Mountains can be seen, their eastern flanks cast in shadow by the warm evening sun.
"It feels odd being this far from a City. Who's doing the cooking?"
"Not me."
"I'll cook." Alwyn finds a good campsite and unloads the mules there; once the beasts of burden are free of their packs, he leads them down to the river while carrying bags of beans, potatoes and salt pork. "A warm meal by the riverside? This is proper living."
Sefayll finds a place to sit and read, grateful for the chance to get off her feet but too much of a Hellknight to say so.
She once again draws forth the stone giant's spellbook and peruses it, having prepared read magic this morning.
Hudak'll sharpen his sword, snickering every once in a while.
The wizard mutters as she studies,
"Interesting."
"Ah, that makes sense."
"Well, that's rather distasteful."
Camlo will follow Illes and do whatever fetching and carrying he can to help. Probably ruining the slience as he does so...
"I've never been this far out into the wilds. I thought Sandpoint was about as depopulated as it gets, felt a bit like a ghost town after living in Cities so long."
The wizard mutters as she studies,
"Interesting."
"Ah, that makes sense."
"Well, that's rather distasteful."
** spoiler omitted **
Alwyn finds a good, dry campsite in a thicket of cherry trees. The fruit are green and still unripe, but the location is screened from any prying eyes in the mountains above.
The wizard mutters as she studies,
"Interesting."
"Ah, that makes sense."
"Well, that's rather distasteful."
** spoiler omitted **
Sefayll will watch early or late to allow rest for replenishing spells.
survival assist
Alwyn first watch, then Sefayll, then Camlo, then Hudak, then Illes.
Alwyn first watch, then Sefayll, then Camlo, then Hudak, then Illes.
Illes sits on a log idly watching while Camlo gathers kindling or whatever he is trying to do. "Wait- what now? You never been out on the open road in your life? Better say a prayer to Desna tonight kid. You're a stranger in her realm now. Lucky for you to be traveling with one of her chosen people then, eh? Just stick with me kid and you'll do fine. Speaking of... that's a chuckley pear bush you're tramping on. We can eat those berries."
Back in camp once everything was set up, Illes stepped into the center and made a dramatic gesture like the first step of a Varisian dance. He sings the fist line or so of a caravan song then stops with a half smile. "Phos" he says in his native tongue and a dim light illuminates the center of the campsite. By the time the others are looking at him like a moron impressed with his ability to conjure a light that will make them stand out to everyone on the surrounding hills the temperature quickly begins to normalize to a comfortable level. "Come see this..." He takes a short walk outside the camp and those who follow him realize the site is cloaked by an opaque black dome from the outside. "We can cook or boil water without too much worry about standing out like a beacon in the hills." Illes offers an exaggerated bow. "Now, what's for dinner?"
Alwyn whips up a wild grain risotto with flakes of freshly-caught trout and brown mushrooms, followed by stewed chuckley pears, proving that wilderness exploration doesn't have to mean bad food. The party settle down about the fire and, as darkness falls, they take turns on watch through the night.
It is the early part of the night, and Alwyn is on watch. Though the day was warm, under a clear, star-filled sky the heat has leached away and it has become decidedly chilly. There is no moon and the darkness is almost absolute.
Alwyn quietly takes a half-step over to Hudak's bedroll before kneeling down and clamping a hand down over his mouth and gently shaking him awake. Quiet, he mouths, nodding towards the rustling outside the magical shelter. We have company.
Hudak'll try to get his chain shirt on; he's got his bastard sword handy.
The bushes shiver and part as a huge feline the sixe of an ox pads slowly out. Its hide is striped in tan and black and jutting down from its upper jaw are a pair of huge curved teeth like scimitars. Its paws are huge but it places them on the ground carefully and almost silently. It seems confused, moving cautiously and sniffing the air, clearly picking up the scents of man and mule but unable to see them through the perimeter of Illes' spell. But it continues to approach the edge of the campsite and will be throughh in a few seconds.