Toth is eager for the fight he missed out on!
Augrym's warning shakes the Huntsmen awake and, after a brief discussion and a hurried effort to don the implements of war, the five of you set out to follow the creature's trail.
The recent snow makes up for the moonless night, and Taranis is able to follow the tracks at a quicker pace. The tracks lead steadily south. However, after more than an hour in the black of night, the Huntsmen still have not caught up to their quarry. Only the chill wind helps keep open weary eyes, and still the trail leads on.
I say press on. This beastie will pester us on its own terms if we don't hunt it down on ours.
"Agreed with rage filled brother friend Unrak."
Fighting fatigue, the Huntsmen decide to press on, following the tracks through the winding hills, ever southward. You cover four miles, as the wolf runs, then five, then six.
And still, the trail leads south. Worse, Toth seems to be having ever more difficulty following the scent, suggesting that you are losing ground, not gaining it.
The miles press on, seven, eight, nine. Eventually, you encounter the Little Sellen River. The opposite bank is beyond even Augrym's ability to see. The tracks head straight in... and there is no telling where they come back out.
Your pillows are six miles north, as the crow flies, a three hour march. The sun could well beat you back to them.
Grrrrr It gets us again. "NOW brother, I think we need to set a trap."
Zed grumbles quietly about the endless slog.
Nodding to Taranis, the big man curses loudly, then raises his voice a bit louder than normal.
This thing beat us AGAIN?!?! FRAK IT!! I'm sleeping now.
Unrak makes a show of bedding down on the bare ground, not even bothering to doff his armor. But he'll stay awake waiting for this annoying creature, so he can cut off it's obnoxious head.
Unrak lays down, and the others join him. Fighting off sleep is near impossible, but the cold helps stave it off. Eventually, the sun crests over the horizon.
let's head back to our camp, and rest for reals. With a watch.
The Hunstmen make the long slog north to their camp. Nothing troubles you on the journey. The local wildlife has thieved some of your supplies (5 total trail rations and 5 total feed), but most everything seems to be in order.
You take turns getting some much-needed rest, and awaken, without further incident, on [color=Teal]12th Abadius[/color].
Southwest.
Zed straightens a bit and says, "Arch". He looks around expectantly.
The Huntsmen elect to leave the leucrotta's territory behind and proceed southwest. The craggy hills continue here, broken by the wide-flowing Little Sellen River. Nothing troubles you immediately and, after a long day of travel, you spend a peaceful night nestled against a hillside.
A light snow greets you on [color=Teal]13th Abadius[/color].
"It is my suggestion that we make camp for the night with some roaring fires large enough to make Sarenrae proud. This will keep the cold away. And then, in the morning, we move our way to the abandoned ferry to see if we could use that to cross over and map out these areas. What say you?"
"I can get behind that my friend."
Unrak grunts. And the air is just right for drinking!
The Huntsmen continue along the banks of the Little Sellen until they come to the place where the Shrike River branches off to the northwest. On each bank stand rotting, half-collapsed wooden shacks that have been long abandoned, though there is evidence of fires here and there as hunters, trappers, or local denizens have used the buildings a shelters while passing through. Only the wind moves through them now.
By the water's edge on each bank is a ferry station, or, at least, the remains of one. A half-sunk ferry bobs in the current against the collapsed station, held on by aged and thread-bare ropes.
The weak winter sun hangs low in the sky, and nightfall is not far off.
"We should take note of this place, but I don't see us crossing easily any time soon. West?"
Unrak, quiet as usual (when there's no battle) but unusually pensive, approaches the ruins of the ferry. He stands with his toes very near the water as he looks out over the area.
The wind whips along the water, tugging at Unrak's thick beard. The light lap of the water against the shore is punctuated by the heavier thump of the ferry against its erstwhile dock and the irregular creak of tired ropes.
The vision fades. You cannot discern whether this told you of the past, or of the future.
The big warrior inhales deeply and quickly, eyes springing open--he didn't realize he'd shut them.
This place...was, or could be, a town. Feels like I just saw it here he taps his head
We should settle this area. Bring life back.
He stays at the ferry for a long while, thinking and watching.
"Not a bad thought brother. The time to expand is coming soon. The keep, and now this place? Let us finish this trip and make plans for the spring."
In the morning, on [color=teal]14th Abadius[/color], the Huntsmen leave the derelict ferry station behind and follow the Shrike west. Eventually, the river takes you to the edge of the Candlemere -- a broad lake that stretches miles distant.
A large island in the middle of the lake, perhaps a mile in diameter, is shrouded in fog in the gathering dusk. At its crest, the sharpest eyes can spot an ancient tower poking through the mists each time the vagaries of the wind carry enough away. This must be the Candlemere Tower marked on Narthropple's map.
Unrak peers at the tower. Now THAT looks like FUN. We've got to get out there soon!!
"Agreed brother Unrak. How difficult do you think it would be to get there without a boat?"
"Too difficult for now. I wonder if this lake ever freezes over?"
"We should get out there soon, and we should have a good presence on the water soon. Let's take a look north east. Before long we need to get to Solasgaard."
Augrym points at the ice covering the lake. "Human eyes. So weak." Taranis squints and finds that the dying light had misled him into thinking the water was open.
The Huntsmen make camp on the shore of the Candlemere as night falls. Nothing disturbs you in the night, although Augrym reports seeing flickering blue lights around the tower during the night. The morning of [color=teal]15th Abadius[/color] is bitterly cold and overcast, though no snow is falling as of yet. You tug your cloaks tight and lead your horses across the ice into the teeth of the wind.
After three hours, frozen to the core, you reach the island. There are no discernible paths up to the low summit and the tower. Thick brambles and nettles cover the slopes.
"Augrym, think you can find us a path? The nettles won't bother me at all, but we should be careful."
There is no path, no tracks... in fact, Taranis sees no evidence of any animals here at all. Not even an insect.
The brambles will have to be navigated.
"I'll take the lead then. Just be careful. Let's check this tower out. First give me a moment." Taranis turns into a bird and circles the ruin looking for a source of the light from last night. He then returns to the party for the hike.
Taranis spies no hint of the flickering lights from the air and rejoins the Huntsmen a few minutes later. The quintet begins the long, painful climb through the sharp nettles.
Toth does his best to navigate: , but the tiger struggles with the density of the plants.
plus...
- Fortitude: +2
- Reflex: +4
- Will: +6 / +8 Vs. Enchantments
<—-PFFFFFHAHAHAHA!!!
The cat & wizard are the only double digit results!!
The stinging nettles harry the heroes as they make the climb. By the time you near the summit, EVERYONE except Taranis is sickened from the poisonous sap for hours.
Above you stands the crumbling ruin of Candlemere's lone tower, a 40-foot tall cylinder of half-collapsed stone, surrounded by a wide swath of broken rubble. The tower is still shrouded in a light fog, and the island is deathly quiet. TOO quiet. As you approach, you feel a deep unease...
<--awesome.