Bardan frowns. "I understand, and I'm going to continue to fight them since that may be the only way of ending this. But I'm convinced they're not real. They seem to shimmer slightly if you look closely. They don't look quite right."
The rest of the team nevertheless all descend on the remaining orc, managing to mis-time their strikes in such a way as to - once again - all miss. Their antagonist, looking slightly bemused, rolls back his head and laughs, but as he reels back his great-axe for another strike at Harken, Bardan unleashes another stone. Again it hits, knocking the orc slightly off balance so that his own blow misses.
Bardan grins again. "Three stones, three hits, Harken; I'd stick to the talking if I were you ..."
"Lucky shots stone-thrower!" Harken retorts...
Irgal stops worrying about the orc corpse as he draws his little morningstar. Then, in one swift movement, he stands tall, a little too tall, looking Harken square in the eye, winks, and swings at the last standing orc.
Irgal's blow hits the orc hard, breaking through its armour and carving a deep wound in its hide. The creature is now surrounded, dazed from the last strike, clearly dying, and hoping to land one last blow. It grunts weakly and raises its weapon.
Illya swings her blade yet again, in an attempt to kill the orc.
Harken once again tries to hit the orc in front of him...
Illya and then Harken pound blows into the orc, who collapses beneath their strikes. Within seconds, its body first shimmers and then disappears, as do the other bodies and the blood that was pooling into the ground.
Where the corpses of the orcs previously lay, there are now three slips of paper. There's a strong smell of peppermint in the air.
Ka'narg and Keshy also notice that the pain from their wounds has completely cleared, and that their armour is intact.
"Hm," says Bardan. "Looks like I was right. In fact, the only thing I was wrong about was that Harken would eventually hit something." He grins broadly at Harken.
"Tough talk from way back there....Hey I think we need to go that way."
Hmm. Maybe it's upside down.
"Nah, it's fine as it is. We just have to keep going."
Glad that's over, so which direction are we heading? she sheathes her blade looking on the map as well.
"I already said that way..." Harken points down the trail...
Ka'narg frowns deeply as the orcs shimmer away. "So you mean to say we cannot even trust our own eyes as to what is real and what is not? That should make the trip an interesting one.
He retrieves the map from his backpack and locates the tracks that the group had left before the altercation with the illusionary orcs in order to gain his bearings.
The map proves fairly easy to follow and the party makes its way, at a decent pace, to the area marked as The Broken Glade. By now the sunlight is beginning to fade and a cold wind begins to rattle through the leafless forest. There is now no sign of civilisation in sight.
"Now aint that a pretty looking tent if i do say so myself, where is my flask of brandy now...?"
After reaching the Broken Glade, Ka'narg begins to set up his own small tent, appearing to be done much quicker than he thought he might be. He turns to Harken and grins toothily, nodding at the human warrior. "A fine looking tent if ever I've seen, friend."
After finishing his own tent, he turns around to aid someone else with setting themselves up against the chill wind.
Illya struggles to put up her own tent, Dammit, stupid piece of garbage
"Your dang right it is! not some..." Harken boasts before turning to see the tent the half ork set up... and then grumbles to himself...
Bardan puts up his own tent somewhat nervously, repeatedly looking over at Ka'narg while doing so, and knowing that he hadn't paid quite as much attention to Arnama's teaching than had her star pupil. Nevertheless, he finds a spot that's sheltered on three sides and constructs a tent that will probably withstand the night.
Irgal pitches his tent in a simple, yet functional fashion. "No need to make it too incredible. It's a fine place to be."
Ka'narg goes over to Illya, calms her down and helps her put up her tent. Keshy quietly sets up his own camp. The party settle down, pool their rations and Irgal concocts a fine and nourishing stew.
As the night grows colder, the last full moon of the year appears, lighting the area of the glade but casting the forest area into shadow. The birdsong of the day is silent, and the forest's night-time cacophony commences. As the moon reaches its apogee, the howling of several wolves can be heard in the distance, deep in the forest. This continues for about an hour, then grows eerily silent.
At the edge of the camp, Harken and Bardan spot what seems to be a wolf, prowling in the darkness, just at the edge of the firelight.
Bardan gets up. "Look, a wolf - just there, at the edge of the camp. Look!"
There is indeed a single wolf, red eyed in the firelight, looking emaciated and hungry, eyeing the camp warily.
"Good eyes whelp! Now do something about it or stay out of the way..." Harken says grabbing his shield and axe.
Irgal draws his bow, preparing to fire if necessary.
Keshy readies his blade in an attack as well, hoping to shoo it away.
Go away wolfy. Even if you're not real, I'm gonna feel really bad about hurting you.
"Can't you just growl fiercely or something? She just looks hungry. Maybe I should feed her or something."
Ka'narg frowns and grabs up his double axe. He stares down the haft at the wolf, and prepares to defend himself. "It's hopefully just hungry, and may move on. If it's being territorial, we may have an issue," he intones in a low growl.
Oh yeah! Keshy says with a smile glancing at his pint-size pal. He puts his sword by his side, hanging on with one hand, and tries to find a ration in his pack, or a sweet roll if there's one left. He'll toss it to the wolf if combat doesn't begin.
He keeps his eyes on the creature while he does so.
thank you for the assistance, Illya turns around to see the wolf, Yes more trickery, go away mongrel we have no time for this she gets momentary angry and intense look in her eye drawing her blade.
Keshy throws the wolf the last of the Kassen Bakery sweet rolls. It pads warily towards it, grabs it and then turns tail and runs.
The howls continue through the night but the party's rest is otherwise uninterrupted. The following morning is bright but cool. Irgal puts together a hearty breakfast and, with the sun barely risen, the group is ready to move on towards the crypt.
On awaking, Ka'narg takes out the groups map and studies it. He looks up at the sky to determine the way the shadows are falling, attempting to reckon South from their direction.
"Hopefully the winter weather holds off for the day and we can make good time to the crypt," he says, passing the map around so that the others can see where they are heading.
The party continues its journey through the Fangwood, with the next point marked on the map as the "Gray Lake".
And indeed, by mid-morning, the trees begin to thin, revealing a field of short, green grass that leads to the shores of a wide, calm lake reflecting the overcast sky above. A dense fog hangs over the centre of the lake, obscuring the far side. Near the shore of the lake, a dark form lies next to the water.
I'm no help with these things, most i can do is start a fire. although it might be a good idea for me to start scanning around for illusions She passe the map on, readying to cast detect magic every once and while searching for further tricks and traps.
Irgal's curiosity gets the better of him as he carefully approaches the figure.
Keshy puts his hand on Irgal's shoulder, not enough to actually restrain him, but to get his attention.
Dooonnn't. Do you know what lives next to foggy lakes? Keshy asks, eyeing the figure.
Keep away from the water, no amount of treasure is worth fighting some undead dinosaur monster she comments , trying to frighten them or at least catch curiosity.
"Bah don't listen to them... do it...I will be right here.... watching..." Harken jests with the Halfling.
As Irgal moves closer, he can see that the form is actually a badly decayed human body, clothed in what seem to be rags. About a yard from the body, further up the beach and probably pushed up there by the water, Keshy and Irgal both notice a sword and a small pouch.
Irgal turns to Keshy. "We really should investigate closer," he protests quietly.
He walks up to the body to examine it.
The body's in a poor state. Irgal can tell that it's the body of a male adult human, dead for a few months now. The death was violent: there are huge bite marks over the upper torso and purple lesions indicating poison - probably the reason that scavengers have left the body alone.
The victim's gear - apart from maybe the sword and pouch nearby - has rotted to uselessness. But Irgal - and those of the party who are also close by - can tell that the man isn't from Kassen; despite the condition of his clothing, after so long an exposure to the elements, in its original state it was obviously of better quality than is normally available in Kassen's meagre market, and would have to have been bought in a city.
Of whatever killed him, there is no sign, at least right now. The only sound is the forlorn cawing of a number of crows, settled in the trees near the lake. The mists at the lake centre billow slightly in the cold breeze.
Kashik exhales deeply. Alright.
With that he turns to a spot further from the shore, and starts digging with his hands.
Anyone bring a shovel? The least this man deserves is a burial. Unless you guys do it differently in Kassen. He seems to be trying to keep his usual happy tone up.
"Crows need to eat as well..." Harken responds gesturing to the trees...
Harken, you know we're being tested. Real or not, we're being challenged on more than just our ability to murder people. The crows have had their turn with the... body. If the rest of you want to go on ahead, that's fine. I'll catch up.
"Uuuuurrrgghhhh!!!! Fine lets get this over with already. Do you have a shovel?"
Uhh... no?
"I'm afraid I don't, either. Isn't there a funeral pyre tradition among the Ulfen? That would be another possibility."
"We can pile rocks over him. Just not by the water."
Irgal nods. "Rocks it is. I'll offer Erastil's blessing."
Funeral pyre would be best, king's funeral. also sticks and wood are easier to carry than rocks Illya suggests.
"Making a funeral pyre takes time setting the logs just right to get the proper fire effect. Dragging the body over yonder and then placing rocks over it will keep the pests away and will be quicker so we can continue. I do not think the test for the flame concerns undertaker as well. Just saying."