You head out to finish exploration of this area.. another chilly morning. After a little more than an hour, you do find another small swampy area within a couple miles of your camp. There are bits of broken bone, and depressions in the marshy ground around it.. roughly circular which could very likely be from the shambling mound. You find nothing of particular interest or worth.
Throughout the morning and midday, you come to find much of the southwest portion of this hex is lowland.. lots of muddy if not marshy areas. The trees are crowded and spindly in many spots, very little growth at ground level, and carpeted by seasons worth of fallen leaves - much of crunches underfoot.. the thick layers hardened from being infused and dried with mud.
As you head east it becomes more idyllic green, and hilly. You start to hear more birds and see more signs of wildlife as early evening comes.
You finish exploration just as the sun sets.
"A much better location to camp for the night." Vladimir says before using his last remaining spell to heal more of Marisol's wounds.
"Let's set camp and get some rest. The weather is not getting any warmer and I would like to be some place with more permanent shelter before it gets much worse."
"I think it's my turn to be up and about," says Marisol as the group settles in to the hilly green land.
"I'm just glad we're out of that marsh. Camping in mud is never ideal." To emphasize this, she sits against a tree and pulls off her boots, then uses a stick to start scraping off the big clots of mud from the last day's travel and exploration, finally finishing with a prestidigitation spell to shine them back up to a clean slate.
"Vlad, dear, thank you for the soothing magic. Come here and I'll clean your boots and give you a much-needed foot rub."
With a smirk, Vladimir says, "Given how long my feet have been in those boots, I do not think you would want to be anywhere near them."
"You could say that again," Balter remarks as he tugs off his own boots, a safe distance away from the others. As opposed to Marisol's surgical method, he simply claps their soles together repeatedly, sending mud and debris flying everywhere. He glances at the setting sun with a furrowed brow. "Hm. Won't be long till we're back at the Fort, at this rate."
Nico chuckles. "I believe both Marisol and I have a spell for smelly-boot-feet."
"After smelling the Skunk River and that thing we just fought, I can put up with some feet," says Marison will a chuckle.
"This has been a good circuit, even if fraught with peril. Taking care of that... rotting... vegetable... thing will keep people safe in this area."
The oracle shakes her head. "No, Marisol. You need sleep. Whatever healing rest can give you, you need it."
Durielle reaches through time to once again erase a portion of Marisol's wounds. The dhampir's unusual heritage continues to interfere with Durielle's power.
Giving her friend a critical eye, Durielle hmmms.
"Well, perhaps that was enough. I still encourage you to rest, but if you must bear watch all night, please be careful."
Turning her intense stare to Vlad, Durielle taps her cheek as she appraises him. She reaches out and bops him on the head, time distorting around her hand.
"There. I believe you should feel completely hale, Sir Vladimir,"
She scrutinizes everyone else including Arliss and their animals. "Is everyone else feeling alright?"
"If you insist, Durielle, then of course I won't complain," says Marisol. "Thank you so much for looking out for me." She smiles to the elf woman and her eyes crinkle slightly with genuine warmth.
"So who's going to stand watch tonight?"
"I think I can manage that."
"I could do it this time," Balter volunteers, in the process of tugging his boots back on. "I'm already in tiptop shape and I don't need spells, so that shouldn't be a problem, yeah?"
"Thank you, Balter, most appreciated. I know I would feel better if Marisol were able to get a full night's sleep to heal what remaining wounds she has." Vladimir says.
"I will take the first watch along with you. Nico has already offered to take a watch as well."
Turing his attention to Arliss, Vladimir asks, "Do you mind taking the second shift with Balter?"
Arliss shrugs "Naw... don't mind, m'lord."
Resisting the urge to chase down the troublesome little fey, Balter settles for glowering at them and drawing an inch of cold iron from its sheath, which seems to do the trick.
Arliss wakes Nico for the third shift... no further sightings of potential trouble.
Morning comes without incident.
A substantial snowfall began an hour or so before first light, and continues now at breakfast. By now there is an inch and a half of accumulation in the clearings. It is a wet snow - barely cold enough for it to fall in the first place.
Vladimir frowns, looking around at the constant snowfall. "So much for making it to the fort before this hit. Saddle up, it would seem that we have long uncomfortable day ahead of us."
"Not cold enough for any of this to stick for long. Our luck might hold out yet," Balter replies as he mounts up. "Worst case, we can just make a break for the fort and save the exploring for the thaw."
Nico shrugs and says, "I am up for exploring. If it gets too cold and uncomfortable for me, I'll just cheat and use a spell."
Marisol gives Prancer a good rub-down after taking off the horse blanket, then puts the saddle on her mount's back. She says, "The snow doesn't bother me too much, but if it gets too deep the horses will have trouble. As winter continues we may need to bunker down somewhere for the season."
Vladimir allows himself a small grin, "Fair enough. Let us be on our way."
You head out and move on the next area to be explored. The sky remains overcast, and you get a few more flurries throughout the day as the temperature hovers around just cold enough for snow.
You'd traveled in this hex before, this is where you encountered the tatzlwyrms. Knowing where to cross the Skunk River (which is slightly less sulfuric downriver) helps your exploration progress without too much difficulty. By sundown you are roughly two-thirds done with exploration.
As the sun goes down, Marisol shivers slightly while setting up the cooking fire. "I take it back. The cold is starting to get to me a bit," she says, half-serious.
"What's our next spot?" she asks as she goes through the bags to see what she can cook up this time.
Vladimir drapes his cloak across Marisol's shoulders and whispers something in her ear.
With a wry grin on his face, he heads off to set up the tent.
Hearing the question about the group's next destination, the swordsman says, "If we are sticking to the planned route, we should finish up with this area by lunchtime then it is off to the east. If the weather continues to be an issue we can cut our exploration short and be at the Stag Fort in a matter of a couple days."
Morning comes without incident.. another chilly day. On your continued exploration you find little of note. There are several wide animal paths around the southern edge running roughly east to west which end at the river. Along the paths you see many hoof prints in the snow.
Taking note of the hoof prints, Vladimir comments, "Elk tracks. At least it would appear that the hunting is good in the area."
"Do you think it would be wise to investigate what is left of those structures? Obviously, no one is there anymore, but maybe it would tell us a bit about who used to live there."
"Is that a rhetorical question?"
"It was not meant as such." Vladimir responds before regarding the ruined structures again. "Then again, I suppose it could be taken that way given the age and condition of the ruins, and the likelihood that we would find anything of note - information or otherwise."
"We might find clues as to why they're abandoned," suggests Marisol. "People have tried to settle these lands many times. Knowing what has driven them out is useful - if any clues remain in the midst of such ruins."
"A fair point, my love." the swordsman says as he turns Shadow toward the nearest set of ruins.
As you poke around the area, you notice bits of darkened wood on the edges of the ruins. It appears this building was on fire long ago, but not completely consumed by the fire.
You discover remnants of heavily decomposed smallish humanoid skeletons. With the state of decay in this environment, they are likely twenty to thirty years old.
Durielle gingerly steps around something in the underbrush near where the ruins begin to fade into the trees.
"Hmm hmm," she mutters. Raising her voice, the oracle calls to the others. "I've found some remains."
"There," she points, "those smaller humanoid skeletons."
She uses the head of an arrow to gently move some of the overgrowth aside to get a better look.
"Maybe gnomes or halflings?" Sorrow crosses her features. "Otherwise children of a larger race..."
Durielle carefully examines what she has found and discusses the bones with anyone else who chooses to take a look.
Marisol pauses and then moves to help Durielle. "Bones? Hmm."
"I can't really tell anything from this."
Nevertheless, the dhampir looks a bit more uncomfortable.
"Looks like there was a fire here, a long, long time ago," Balter observes, pointing out the blackened parts of the structure. Stepping over to the skeletons, he kneels down and frowns, looking for any traces of fatal injuries that haven't been worn away by time.
Vladimir joins the group gathered around the skeletons, looking to add his two copper to the conversation. Regardless of how long he looks or even from what angle, he has nothing of value to add to the identity of the skeletons.
Nico approaches the structure, examining the burnt areas. "But the structure didn't catch. Do you suppose the fire was outside? Maybe spells, or a fire breather killed them."
After some time those investigating determine the pair of old skeletons were killed by puncture wounds which penetrated the disproportionately large skulls. The fact that the skulls are disproportionately large is a bit unsettling.
"Well, whoever they were... they had really big heads," Balter says bluntly, unable to come up with something more insightful. Looking up from the skeletons, he gestures at a spot in the direction of the ruined buildings. "That ridge there... it looks like they were using it for cover. Not that it did them much good."
Looking over the other nearby ruins, you see the similar things: one or more small skeletons with large heads, scorch marks or charred remnants of wood.... At the third and final structure one of the skeletons is just inside what appears to have been a doorway - the top of its skull is shattered as from a strong blunt force.
"I am not sure I want to know what bashed this poor soul's head in." Vladimir says while investigating the third structure.
Just as he is about to leave, the tiniest glint of metal catches his eye.
"What do we have here?" the swordsman asks while pulling a small, metal lockbox from underneath the rotting remains of a bed.
"Someone really didn't like these gremlins. Which, I suppose, is not unusual," says Marisol as she keeps a wary eye out while Vlad fetches the lockbox.
Nico says, "Huh. Most people just have rats."
"Nice find. Anyone good at picking locks?" Balter asks, apparently more interested in the lockbox than in the grisly remains. He seems uncomfortable in the presence of the strange skeletons. "Worst case scenario, we could bash the thing open."
Although the box is locked, you notice how rusted the hinge is, and are able to pop it open fairly easily. Inside is a small bag of coin and a faded note.
“Eliza,
We hope you remember and think to check here.. and hope this note finds you well. Do not worry, we’ve survived the latest attack and are fleeing to Lord Chafwinth’s estate before the unseelies strike again. We’ve left some coin for your travels and your great aunt’s ring.
Good luck to you, and hope to see you again.”
You find 4 gold 13 silver, also a silver and onyx ring
"Lord Chafwinth...the founder of the Crossroads? Or at least a member of the founding family. No bloody idea of how long ago that was though. Perhaps next time we are through there that is something we could talk to Olbrent about." Vladimir muses.
Thinking a bit more about the unseelie part of the message, "Trouble with fey creatures of a significantly less friendly nature than Tyg-Titter-Tut and Perlivash...that is a bit on the disturbing side."
"It seems that explains this little infestation. Well, all except why."
"Given how Chafwinth works, they may well be indentured," says Marisol. "Perhaps someone will remember the ring and be able to describe it, and could then reclaim the coin and the note."