Ornthalas leads the way through the underbrush. You soon reach a large clearing in the forest. Two deer are standing on the far side of the clearing. Ornthalas takes aim with his bow and lets an arrow fly.
The arrow hits the deer in the neck and it falls to the ground. The other deer runs.
"Quick!" Ornthalas says and runs toward the deer, drawing his knife on the way. He grabs a hold of the deer's head and sliths its throat, ending its pain.
The old elf then crouches next to the creature and says a silent prayer.
He gets up, wipes off the knife and puts it in its sheeth, then dusts off his hands and looks at Magnes.
"Think you can make something nice with this?"
"Oh I imagine I can do some great things with that. Care ta help me find some local greens? I lack anything to go with a solid game meat. Well aside from seasonings.
Most of what magnes searches for is sprouts, roots and leafy greens. Picking the occasional mushroom thats safe. Any local delicacies would also get grabbed.
Will write up an idea to what impressive food magnes cooks when I get home tonight.
"Okay... just a conversation. And we don't commit to anything." Iggy replies after a bit of consideration.
You then head to the chieftain's abode, a large wooden building complex surrounded by a palisade wall in the middle of Falan Feren. The main building is a large two-story longhut with thatch roof, smoke rising from its chimney.
A beautifully carved wooden portal is the entrance to the abode, and two Waeldfolk warriors wearing hide armor with pieces of metal armor here and there and armed with swords and bows stand guard there. One has long dark braided hair and beard and the other is bald with a shorter beard. They are both covered in tattoos.
"HALT! Visitors aren't allowed in the chieftain's abode!" the bald one exclaims as you approach the entrance.
Ornthalas helps you collect a bunch of suitable greens and mushrooms and you head back to camp.
The Ruins of Mirthal Keep:
Just as the sun is about to set Ornthalas and Magnes returns to the camp. Ornthalas with a deer over his shoulders and Magnes carrying a whole lot of greens and mushrooms.
Hawk slows to an easy stop, taking a moment to consider his approach. "I am Hawkren Hargraves, called 'the Hawk of Ghan Tiva'." Well, at least I call myself that... he silently amends, "And this is my comrade Igvanus Lagarn, Mage of the Blue Dragon. We wish to speak with your Chieftain about a matter of importance to the Ghost Bear tribe - the Bherug. We will wait here to see if your Chieftain will speak with us." Having played his cards, Hawk admires the architecture of the building and hopes the high-sounding hyperbole will gain them an audience with the Chieftain and not a boot in the ass.
Magnes grins as he rapidly converts his collection of greens into several different parts. Plucking roots flowers and leaves, pitching some into the distance and putting others off to the side.
The roots and tubers getting separated some washed while many get boiled for a few minutes over the cook fire before Argus is satisfied.
He peels the flesh off the thighs of the deers back legs revealing a handy separation of bone just large enough to jam a large stick into so as to hang it for butchering. The dwarf peeling enough of the deer so as to rapidly drip.
That out of the way the dwarf takes some of the greens a few odd vials from his pack and mixes up a quick raw salad leaving the vials to the side to be mixed as desired.
"So it's gonna be a bit before I can deal with the rest of it all, buh I'll be doing some lovely things with the venison over there once its prepared. Fer now though enjoy tha salad."
The forest vegetables and greens combining nicely with the vinagette Argus magically had in his gear somewhere. Muting the less desirable tastes with the flavors with a strangely hop-y after taste.
The dwarf then proceeds to convert his entire cooking kit to storage and sits peeling the remaining vegetables into cuts and cubes. The mushrooms getting a similar treatment with the exception of the Wyvernwaed's Ettercaps. The delicate growths getting placed off to the side by themselves with all the delacacy of one handling a volatile bomb.
"Any of ya feel like going out into the forest to get me some more wood? Cookin' all this is gonna be a bit more complex than the current supply will give me. Oh and if any of you know the method, butchering that deer's something I could use done. I'll get to it after this if not."
Rhialla stands as she stashes her journal and volunteers to Magnes's request, "I'll gladly gather some more firewood."
Turning and blinking her impossibly green almond eyes she looks to Girian, "Girian, would you be so kind as to accompany me? Safety in numbers."
Girian' who had been sitting whittling a figure out of a branch glances upwards.
"Huh?" the human giving an unreadable expression to a moment before Phyllis squawked at him. why do I get the feeling that i'll be doing most of the carrying I this arrangement.
" I would but I lost my axe a whi-" the humans excuse interrupted by Phyllis removing said lost axe from the mans pack.
"Why thank you Phyllis. My long lost axe, what great fortune. Sure, ill go with you. the human says with a tick of irritation at his meddling dinosaur companion. Girian showing his knife and the half finished figure be for shouldering the axe and following Rhialla.
Rhialla hums faintly as she trudges through the forest occasionally stopping to look sharply out into the woods at real and imagined noises alike.
After a time Rhialla inevitably addresses Girian, "I owe you an apology Girian. she says turning to him with a serious and sincere tone. "When you first joined us several days ago, I was negligently defiant of the situation, and admittedly ignorant to the region's issues. My preference to be impartial is useful when trying to act as a negotiator between two conflicts, but after the bugbear and something Bhalur spoke of before coming here, I've become more aware and decidedly concerned over what is happening here."
Rhialla sighs, "What I'm trying to eventually say here is I'm sorry for anything I said that made it seem like your association was anything less than desirable. I regret the words, and the thinking behind them. If there is anything I can do to help stabilize and secure the region just speak the words, and I will. We both are just doing the task at hand but I worry over the damage inaction and hesitation might have already wrought already and I don't want to be apart of it if I can help it."
Watching with indifferent eyes the execution of bugbear, when Bhalur returned with Ornthalas and Magnes back to others. Sighing at the whole situation now going over Wyvernwaeld and apparent involvement of Eldreth Malecei through bugbears, this region was dangerously close collapsing.
Following others silently Bhalur was in his own deep thoughs during most of the time. Quite enjoying the nature around them and looking around in a fashion of being at home. During Rhialla and Girian going off to collect firewood, Bhalur set himself up to find some freshwater, deciding to spare their water and maybe finding along the way some moss, which he could use under him for the night... hm, since when was the last time I slept in the forest without blankets and only with providings of nature
The human on hearing Rhialla's words pauses in his work at a dead tree.
"Huh."
Girian reaching a hand up to run fingers through his beard. The humans vision passing over the forest scenery before returning to the rather attractive really elf in front of him.
" Rhialla if you are ever feeling like letting Mydnur take a turn I imagine it would be pleased in your efforts to carry its burdens. I believe I understand your reasons as to why you wanted to avoid having me with you. They are valid. You and your friends, I've heard the story they told of that though I expect my version is vastly exaggerated. That surprise heir you brought out of the flux right into the kings court did make some waves. You are all Heros."
The human nods mouth tightening as a small frown forms on his face.
"However stabilizing this place is not going to be work for heros. Unless you can stand here and tell me that you are alright with slaughtering men and women who likely have reasons just as good as yours to fight. I love my kingdom, and I will serve it proudly but what I think. What I believe you should do Rhialla, is take that band you have with you and use it to your advantage. Find a solution we did not, forge a path that we soldiers and our king did not find before."
The human sighs as he glances up to the skies
"Sorry, that came out wrong. Battles on the horizon always seem to make me a navel gazer. This business with the bugbears just makes it worse."
"We fight for our purposes in different ways, but each way is important to the overall struggle. Do not worry, your words fall on favorable ears. I appreciate your mindfulness, but valid concerns or not they were insensitive of me to have let alone share; not something I want to be. Or be again for that matter."
Rhialla pauses for a time before smiling cleverly, "As to your navel gazing, I'm sure once the battles on the horizon are done, your companion wont mind the appreciation." The lilting of her voice lends ambiguity to whether it was a question or a statement, but she smirks self assuredly at her tease regardless.
The guard calls on a small girl from inside the courtyard of the abode and tells her to go to the chieftain and tell her about you and your request to talk to her about the Bherug. The little girl nods and runs to the great longhut.
Half an hour later you see a tattood female warrior step out from the longhut and call on the little girl: "Yaëra!" the little girl runs over to her, and the warrioress throws a look at you and then bend over the girl and tell her something.
The little girl then comes to the wooden portal entrance and says something in aratheël to the bald guard.
The bald guard gestures for you get up and come over (you've been sitting on a log near the entrance and waiting). "Hawk of Ghan Tiva. The chieftain will see you now. Yaëra here will take you to her."
You follow Yaëra across the courtyard and into the great longhut. Around a table inside the longhut three Waeldfolk are seated with a map of the Wyvernwaeld laid out on the table in front of them. Two waelfolk warriors stand behind them, one of them the brown-haired warrioress who called on Yaëra.
The three Waeldfolk that are seated are a muscular human warrior completely covered in tattoos with long dark hair in a ponytail and beard who eyes you suspiciously, an older elven man with half of his face covered in tattoos and long grey hair braided with feathers in it smoking a pipe, and an elven woman with thick locks of grey and black hair and a fur cloak. A scar runs diagonally across her face which is framed in elaborate blue tattoos. She motions for you and Igvanus to take a seat on the bench on the opposite side of the table and looks at you with almond-shaped emerald eyes.
"I am Yasandra Melathnir, chieftain of the Ghost Bears. I was told that you wanted to speak to me about the Bherug tribe."
Hawk glances at the map briefly as he sits purposefully with his back straight, matching the solemnity of those in the room. "Yes, Mother of the Ghost Bears. Thank you for speaking with us; I will be brief. I am Hawkren Hargraves and this is Igvanus Lagarn, both mages of the Blue Dragon Society. We were passing through your lands to explore ruins in the Waeld," he makes a dismissive wave, "but that isn't important. As weary travelers, Jegaer has extended the hospitality of the Ghost Bear to us. He spoke of the Bherug making war and warned us that the Waeld would be dangerous for outsiders. I consider his kindness and warning no small favor... and I always repay my debts. We would like to know more of the danger the Ghost Bear face. Perhaps Igvanus or I have some skills that might assist your people."
"The Waeld has always been dangerous to outsiders. That is nothing new." the muscular bearded pony-tailed human sitting next to the chieftain remarks. "Especially outsiders who come to the Waeld to rob old Savathaal tombs." he adds.
"Varus!" Yasandra says in a harsh tone holding up a hand signaling for the warrior to stop. "Wine for our guests, Aldiëra." with the same hand she has up, she makes a gesture and the warrioress behind them places two silver cups in front of Hawkren and Igvanus and pours wine into them. She then returns to her position.
"I appreciate you offering your assistance, Hawkren and Igvanus of the Blue Dragon Society, but this war that the Bherugs have started calls for battle-hardened warriors, not scholars. The Bherugs are ferocious and fast. Their metal will draw your blood before you have finished weaving your first spell. But perhaps your skills could be put to use in another way than on the frontline of the battlefield. Are you experienced with healing magic or potion-making per chance?"
The little pointy-eared girl with curly red hair and freckles Yaëra enters the room.
"Dena belër, Yaëra?" Yasandra asks in a soft voice in Aratheël.
"Da en koroku dath val eth mertha." the girl says.
"En koroku?" Yasandra asks surprised. She looks to the pipe-smoking old elf on her left side who shrugs. She then turns to the warrioress Aldiëra. "Va ath en gethe de koroku, Aldiëra."
"Yera, Mathkirë." the warrioress replies and leaves the longhut.
Yasandra then looks at you and says: "The koroku lives deeper in the forest, closer to the home of the Bherugs. They usually stay neutral in Waeldfolk matters, but if they have sent someone here, it probably means that the Bherugs have attacked them as well."
A cloaked figure enters the longhut, escorted by Aldiëra...
Stepping through the doorway she glances to the sides before moving deeper into the hut towards the table. Looking upon her only reveals a hidden humanoid form resides within the mottle coloured cloak of greens, browns and greys typically found in the forest of Weald. As she nears the table, she halts, and bows to Yasandra, showing her respect speaking while head bowed, "Pardon me for interrupting proceeding here, I have bear grave news."
"I feared as much. Tell me what has happened. Has Hearteater
attacked your village?" Yasandra asks in a concerned voice.
Mirthal Keep:
"Consider it done" Ornthalas says to Magnes and begins butchering the deer.
She lifts her head up to stand straight, and her lightly grey feather coloured hands appears out her cape displaying long black claw nails, before moving upwards to shift her hood backwards. Revealing a pair of striking large yellow orange eyes set against dark grey feathered head with light longer feather rising above. Closing looking at her head one quickly notices a large pointed black beak separating the eyes.
"No. well for now not my village. More importantly why my village exists in the first place, to be guardians of Ang Varshon, to keep it safe, and to keep outsider from entering the temple."
Opening her hands outwards, "I was send here to ask for your aid as my village tries to hold Hearteater back until help arrives. For all our sakes, we can't let Ang Varshon fall into Hearteater's hands."
"Dath badara!" Yasandra exlaims frustradedly and slams her fist on the table. "Damn Alskar Hearteater! It does not surprise me if he plans to break the old pact in his lust for power. I dare not think of what will happen if he gains the allegiance of the Ancient One."
He clears his throat to get the Chieftain's attention. "To your question, Mother of the Ghost Bear, I can do healing magic many times in a day though it is a slower kind than priestly spells. If you will aid this woman's village," he nods politely to the Koroku, "and the risk to all is great, perhaps an outsider's help would be welcome alongside Waeldfolk?" He lets the idea hang before pressing on.
"What is this 'pact' that Alskar Hearteater would break? And the 'Ancient One' of which you speak... is it the spirit Ang Varshon? It still lives in the temple that bears its name?" It is an idea that is both fascinating and dreadful.
Magnes finishes peeling, chopping and eventually quickly boiling his different piles of plant matter. One bucket getting cautiously poured off into the river down stream and the other getting saved.
The dwarf collects all the fat from the deer, a heady mixture of liquor, spice and a cautiously collected explosion of ettercap spores. The spores which he quickly mashes into a paste, binding the rest to it and smearing it onto a large number of the pieces of the deer. Argus picking the tougher and less palatable pieces for his selections strangely.
"Right, now lets get somea' that venison. into this here pot. The rest we can smoke over night once Rhialla an Girian get back from their 'wood gathering'." The Dhouvar states with a grin and a sigh. Quickly cleaning his hands off in the nearest water.
" Then we wait an hour or so, let that rub take effect. few more steps and I ought to be set to actually make this meal by the time the moons lookin' down on us."
The bragging humanoid then sits down by the collection of pots, pans and various untensils and pours himself a flagon of ale.
"Anyone want something ta drink while we wait. Oh and anyone feel like tellin' some spooky story or something? I suppose ah could teach you all a song I heard in one of the Bhelskar bars as well."
"Meh, once the battles on the horizon are done I'm off to put out some other fire. Such is curse of a well preformed job. More work. Well that and likely drinking. Hopefully not as much as that damned liquor pit of a Dhouvarr you have in your group got my unit to imbibe though."
The human states, any indication of being an ally to the elf in front of him sailing right over his head. We follow different paths after all. An old bandit like me would certainly not fall in that category. Giving a small grin as he looks at the trees in front of him.
"Though I'd imagine that is an old saw with you, oh she who carries great burdens. "
"Millenia ago, the Savathaal elves returned to the Wyvernwaeld in the Great Spring. They found a spirit inside one of their ancestral temples. Ang Varshon. At first he was kind and helpful and granted great power to the Savathaal leaders. Then he caused the Savathaal to turn against each other resulting in much strife and bloodshed. In the end, the mad and corrupted Savathaal were killed and the temple of Ang Varshon was sealed up. A pact was made between what would become the Waeldfolk tribes to keep Ang Varshon - the Ancient One - sealed in and to never enter his temple."
Igvanus listens intensely. He is clearly fascinated enough by the story and the whole scenario to temporarily forget the danger that the two Blue Dragon mages would put themselves in, if they were to follow the Ghost Bear tribe to help the koroku who are guarding Ang Varshon.
"Your help is most welcome, but know that it will be a dangerous endeavor, deadly for many." The scarred chieftain with the thick locks and emerald eyes looks to the muscular man on her right side. "Varus. Prepare the men. We leave first thing tomorrow."
"Yesa, Mathkirë." the man says and gets up and leaves.
She then turns her gaze to the koroku. "We will come to your aid, koroku."
Rhialla returns to Mithral keep with a load of firewood and Girian, likewise, not far behind. For a time she tends to her writing in her journal between forays around the camp to look out for trouble. The forest or something else clearly has her ill at ease, but she wards off the worries by keeping busy.
Gives a bow to the chieftain, "Thank you very much."
Once upright again, "I, Arukara, shall lead the way once we are closer to Ang Varshon, to avoid the many hidden traps my village had constructed to prevent people reaching the temple. The traps becoming more deadlier the closer one gets to the temple. I shall be at the village gate when dawn breaks."
She steps back, then turns to walk out of the hut to find a suitable tree to rest in for the night.
"I will arrange with Jegaer for you to stay at the Friendly Fryrga for free tonight. Be ready at dawn." Yasandra says then shows Hawkren Hargraves and Igvanus Lagarn to the door. "And thank you for offering your help, bendalës."
When out in the street again Igvanus says: "Hawk. If we go with them tomorrow, there's no guarantee that we're going to make it back alive. And what do we stand to gain from it? The temple is sealed and there's an ancient evil spirit trapped inside..."
Mirthal Keep:
Dusk has turned to darkness when Magnes is finally done cooking his splendorous meal. You sit around the campfire in the courtyard of the ruined keep, Sibilune shines brightly above you, and the forest has come alive with sound.
"That was delicious," Ornthalas says after finishing his meal. "You're a regular magician when it comes to cooking, Magnes. Now, we better get some sleep, so we can be well-rested and ready for another day of travel early tomorrow. We still have a couple of days in front of us before we reach the Baravos Fall and the entrance to the Shaman's Path."
Magnes spends his time waiting humming a song, that obviously has a good melody but in his drunken state he only cares to half remember.
the meat ends up being in a state closer to a liquid than a solid. The normaly tough portions of meat melting off with little more than a push. The sauce muting the normal intense flavor of deer fat and generally making the meal harmonize with the vegetable strings and other greens. Though that might be helped by the meat drippings and oil Magnes fries them in.
Though the Ettercap pudding Magnes brings out afterward is certainly strange.
Magnes lies on a rock like a sated cat, obviously pleased with his own cooking. The dhouvar unleashing a roof shaking belch before nodding in the direction of the elf. "Aye. That I am. And aye, that it was. As for rest I expect if I don't move soon my spine will take the shape of this rock."
The actual cat on the other hand sits on a different rock happily devouring a large cut of venison. "Mao. states the pleased cat.
"Yanno what, I'm not even mad." the Dhourvar replies as he glances to the cats prize. "Though you might want to guard that from hungry lizards and tiny dragons."
"I can sure do with a good meal for the night. Thank you for the offer."
At the door she pulls her hood forward to cover the head completely, then makes her way to the tavern to enjoy a hearty meal.
A hour before dawn, she arrives at the village gate, watching the preparations taking place for the village help to defend the temple against Hearteater's horde.
Once she identifies who will be leading the village force, she walks to the leader, "Good day. I am Arukara, I will take over the lead, to ensure everyone travels safely in the deep forest around Ang Varshon temple. Until then, you lead.
Girian seems to give a perplexed look to the elf in the way she responds. He leaves any questions for another day though.
Girian trundles in with his own pile of wood, stacking it next to Rhialla's for whatever purpose the drunken Dhouvarr had in mind.
The human continuing to whittle his wooden figure as Phyllis perches on one of the ruins broken walls. The man waiting patiently for the Dhouvars grandstanding to end. Though it is readily apparent to the quality in question.
"You are probably going to want to hide that skill from Smiley. I mean unless you fancy getting Gang pressed. Also I wouldn't worry much over a watch cycle tonight. Learned a trick from a mage up north that lets me basically sleep standing up. I can take one other if you have something you need to keep an eye on overnight." the human says as he glances to the metal racked box Magnes had improvised and the steady stream of smoke coming out of it.
"Much as its an idea ta' keep an eye on tha meat." Magnes begins as he rolls over to look in the direction of Girian. "I am entirely stuffed with meat and ready to sleep now. And staying awake the entire night courtesy of magic seems tha' sort of thing that would be effective but really boring. think ah'll pass."
More than a hundred Ghost Bear warriors armed with spears, swords, long knives, axes, bows and other weapons are gathered outside Falan Feren's northern gate in the morning mist waiting for their commander and chieftain to arrive.
When she does, everyone turns quiet. She has a black stripe painted across her eyes, is wearing an impressive feather headdress, a furlined green cloak and pieces of metal armor covers her vital spots. She is armed with a large round shield and a curved longsword. Next to her walks Varus wearing a helmet made from a wyvern skull, a bear pelt and armed with a twin-headed glaive and behind them walks four other warriors, one of them Aldiëra, the brown-haired warrioress who has one side of her face painted black and is armed with a spear.
"Ghost Bears! Today we will march for the village of the koroku, to face the Bherug and prevent Alskar Hearteater from gaining entry to the temple of Ang Varshon! The Bherugs have the Broken Skulls of White Wyvern Pass on their side and their combined number is without a doubt much greater than ours. That only means it will be a battle worthy of us! We will fight for glory and for the security of our tribe! We will show Alskar Hearteater and the vile beings he has allied himself with what a true Ghost Bear is made of! Some of us aren't going to make it back, but the fallen will be remembered with pride and respect! I, Yasandra Melathnir, your chieftain, will be leading you personally on this one. I will be there with you on the field of battle. I will witness your bravery. I will fight beside you with honor! For the Ghost Bears!" She holds her sword up in the air and all the warriors cheer.
"Good day Arukara." Yasandra answers the koroku. "Just let me know when we reach the traps."
"Your help is most welcome, but know that it will be a dangerous endeavor, deadly for many... We leave first thing tomorrow."
Hawk walks alongside the Chieftain at an easy pace, a bit weary of the stated or implied slights. Regardless, he stays polite. "Mother of the Ghost Bear, scholar or warrior, the Waeldfolk aren't the only people that have courage in the face of death. I look forward to surprising Varus. And I will see you when dawn breaks." He gives the Chieftain a bow and moves off with his comrade.
"Hawk. If we go with them tomorrow, there's no guarantee that we're going to make it back alive. And what do we stand to gain from it? The temple is sealed and there's an ancient evil spirit trapped inside..."
No longer in the company of the Waeldfolk, Hawk's calm expression falls into a worried frown considering the other mage's words as they walk. Finally he says, "You're right, of course. This is a more dangerous affair than I expected. With the Koroku guarding the temple in addition to whatever perils are in the temple itself - it would be foolish to continue with our plan." He gives the implied 'but' a moment of silence. "But here's the rub, Iggy. We've got a waeld army on the march with the goal of conquest and presumably a willingness to free and 'yoke' an ancient evil. So here's what concerns me: What are the odds the Bherug will content themselves with capturing a few other tribes? Tasting success here, will they move against 'outsiders' next? How long will it be before they come knocking on the doors of Nelphent? And can we believe an ancient evil that corrupted the Savathaal can be controlled by some Bherug madman?"
Hawk continues walking, letting Iggy mull on his questions. Eventually, he reveals the decision he's reached, "Ig, I think this is a mundane and eldritch threat that needs assessing. If not for the sake of the Ghost Bear, then for Aglondar. And much as I think this clan of warriors can spill Bherug blood, I don't know if they can suss out the powers of the ancient evil if it gets loose. So, I'm going along to do just that. You'll have to do what is right for you. If you don't like the odds, then head home and pass along what we've learned to the Society. Word has to get out."
"No. I'm coming with you." Igvanus says with sudden determination. "Leaving you to go alone wouldn't feel right. You would be the hero who returned to the Society with great tales to tell, and I would be the coward who missed his opportunity to do something great for once in his life. Being here with you gives me an odd sense of purpose, and even though the Ghost Bears don't think they can use us on the battlefield, I think some magic might be just what they need to win the day. Truth be told, I am excited. More excited than I've ever been."
Talsday, Thaal 11th, 447 DE
You awake the next day as the sun rises over Mirthal Keep. You pack up your stuff, leave the ruin and continue your travel northwest along the Baravos River.
You travel the whole day without encountering anything, set up camp by the river and go to sleep.
You awake the next day and continue your travel.
Vodensday, Thaal 12th, 447 DE
It is the third day of travel around midday. The forest is dense and you walk on a narrow path which sometimes runs along the edge of the river ravine. You suddenly smell a foul stench.
He bows politely to the Chieftain and her retinue as they pass by. Once passed, he raises an eyebrow at their armor and warpaint then remarks quietly to Iggy, "It appears we've under-dressed for this party."
Magnes spends much of his time at camp drinking
Though he does get around to singing his song, 'The last Bhelskar pirate' seemed to go over well. Though Girian seemed to be a bit brittle to those who spoke with the man following the tavern song.
Magnes is subdued the second night with a less fantastic dinner. Picking casually at leftover venison and the limited number of foodstuffs available.
The dwarf regains his humor when he comes back to the camp after going off to do some 'personal things'
" So, i'm thinkin' that vision Kevroth had is becomin' more prophetic by tha' minute. Not sayin' the quest we are on isn't important but I hope none of you are expectin' rest after our valiant Knight saves her princess."
[/spoiler]
Magnes sniffs once and frowns deeply. "Seriously ya fat lard?"
The dwarf asks, craning his neck back to the Cat who had forsook its comfortable carrying cage and made the crook between argus's neck and his pack a comfortable home. Much to the Dhouvar's chagrin
"Mao" says the cat, a picture of offended innocence.
" Oh wait, Ornthalas. Ye said somethin about smells like that right. Wait so that means you di-" Argus asks the elf, then craning his head back to the cat. He is interrupted by a small noise and frowns deeper.
"Seriously ya ratfink? Tha's a really terrible smell. Kai, stop feeding this crap factory tha' venison. Gods above and below thats terrible."
" Anyway keep an eye everyone. I think one of those Behrug things are about."
The small Ghost Bear army begins its march from Falan Feren deeper into the Wyvernwaeld towards Torukaro, the village of the koroku who safeguard the temple of Ang Varshon.
Around mid-day they make halt in a large glade with three hills to rest their legs for a bit and get a bite to eat.
Bhalur following others behind and just watching around the forest, reminisicing about his own past and home. Resembling in some way his old part of forest, where he used to live when suddenly his nose picks something foul smelling.
Following his nose and trying to look at the direction, where it was coming from. Shaer also reacting and rising her head to see, what was disturbing her sleep
You see a massive green reptillian head looking at you with sinister white eyes in between the trees and bushes on your right side.
One of the Ghost Bears you nod to, a man with a mohawk and black warpaint in his face, laughs condescendingly and says "El magera seëth devieth naglera meth var!" then spits on the ground. Another one places a hand on your shoulder. "Just ignore Berevarg. He's an a#$&!*+ to everyone he hasn't fought beside."
The trees of the great forest are immensely tall, taller than any trees you've seen before. Suddenly you hear a thunderous roar, as a big brown wyvern flies over the glade.
Girian quirks a brow at the Dwarf's antics before keeping an eye out himself. " A shame Phyllis is tired from her trip. She's good at spotting things." The human comments as he looks.
You see a massive green reptillian head looking at you with sinister white eyes in between the trees and bushes on your right side.
Another one places a hand on your shoulder. "Just ignore Berevarg. He's an a%!!@*! to everyone he hasn't fought beside."
Hawkren shrugs, saying drily. "I'm not offended. Since I don't speak Aratheël, I figure he was just bragging about the goat he f@<ked that looks like me." He smiles broadly and offers his hand, "I'm Hawk - good to meet you."
Suddenly you hear a thunderous roar, as a big brown wyvern flies over the glade.
The mage's hand instantly goes to his rapier as his sharp eyes focus on the wyvern.
Kevroth is subdued after the hunting party returns, speaking little and just watching. He sleeps very little that night, and that is restless as he tosses about and makes several small distressed sounds that are almost words. Finally he simply gets up and cleans his musket, then sits on watch lost in thought.
Kevroth is still in a funk throughout the morning, but the walking and the sunlight seem to eventually shake him out of it and he joins in the conversations that happen near him, but does not seek any.
Kevroth wrinkles his nose at the foul smell and glances about, but sees nothing, and returns to walking along in silence. He does chuckle to himself when the cat indicates that he is not best pleased with Magnes' accusation by committing the crime for which he was being accused.
She walks nearby the chieftain as they march through the forest. Generally remaining silent, as her she worries about what is happening at Ang Varshon. Truly hope the traps are killing many of the invading horde, while still living ones are picked off with minimal casualties of my people.
Seeing the wyvren, she tries to identify the wyvren to see if it is native to Waeld.
Girian does his best to stay relaxed as he considers his options.
"Alright so I see it, A Bherug I think, over in that bush. Try not to look at it all at once. It hasn't moved yet, perhaps it already ate?"