Elaina charges towards the fallen wolf, her glaive swinging through the air. The graceful arcing of the glinting steel carves its way through the campsite, avoiding all allies on its way to its mark - the pack leader. Nearing her target, Elaina finishes with a leaping strike, catching the wolf on the edge of his neck as he feebly tried to stand.
The intersecting forces prove too much for the starving but determined wolf, as the flesh and bone beneath the glaive fail. The blade cleaves through the wolf's neck, bisecting the beast with a small shower of crimson.
Nearby, the other wolf dozed peacefully, unaware of what had happened to its leader.
"Okay Ed, next time you make a smart comment about my choice of weapons, remember I can actually hit something."
Despite the serious tone of her voice, Elaina is grinning from ear to ear.
"Okay Ed, next time you make a smart comment about my choice of weapons, remember I can actually hit something."
Despite the serious tone of her voice, Elaina is grinning from ear to ear.
"Amazing hit, Elaina. Me? I was wondering just how many times I could miss with a sickle," Nedyr looks at the alpha regretfully, "He was an amazing creature though. A shame he chose to fight" He runs his hand along the corpse. "I wonder if anything of their pelts can be salvaged? Old Deadeye hates waste."
To Sevrin, he asks with a smile, "You didn't tell us you were a wizard! All this time, and I never knew."
Moving quickly to the sleeping wolf, "What do do with you? Seems very unsporting to kill you in this state... but at the same time you could come back to threaten the community or some other traveler if you haven't learned your lesson about attacking humans."
Patting his sister on the head, Ed smiled as he rested his great axe.
"Now thats the spirit kiddo, even its with a sharpened stick." To which Ed follows with a hearty laugh.
He had little to say - Elaina had come through, and with an excellent hit.
Ed's ears pricked at Nedyr's comment directed at Sevrin.
"Hm, wizards...they rhyme with lizards. You don't happen to be..." Approaching Severin, the Shield fighter did a cursory inspection of the youth trying to determine any scales or tail. Tucking at his robes and poking the boy's flesh, Ed seemed somewhat suspicious of Sevrin.
"Ed, he's not a dragon. And if he is, poking him is an even worse idea."
"Whoa Elaina, that was great, I've never been more relieved."
Wizard? Oh no, what did I do? I couldn't let that thing eat me! Still, he'd better stop poking me.
"I'm n-not really a wizard. More like, what do they call them... an adept? I just learned a couple of tricks, you know?"
"Uh Nedyr, I know nature and animals and stuff are sacred to you but given what that wolf just did to me, I'm not really worried about being unsporting."
Sevrin looks down at his leg where the wolf bit him and goes a little white. He sits down carefully as Rilyeh alights on his shoulder.
"I don't think things are the same just because they rhyme Ed, but if I turn into a dragon I promise not to eat you. Unless you keep poking me."
"You're right, Sevrin. Estrail knows we must protect community first, and you are part of MY community. Besides, once they get the taste for a flesh, it stays with them," He prays to his god softly, "Please find better hunting grounds for the spirit I now send." and slits the throat of the wolf with the sickle.
Sighing, he wipes the weapon with a cloth.
The grisly sight of the bisected wolf makes Délia feel dizzy for a moment. Sure, she lived in a rugged, down-to-earth village with rugged, down-to-earth people, but had always avoided the messy jobs for the best of her ability, and looks away when Nedyr slits the other beast's throat.
"Pretty harsh for someone who follows the god of hunting to kill someone... For hunting."
After saying that, she absolutely can't help but correct his companion's terminology. "Now now, he can not be a wizard. Wizards use books with all those spells written down there. Besides, you have to be smart to be a wizard. And smart people don't get bitten by wolves. She shows a "just kidding" smile at Sevrin, then reaches out for him and mutters something in a low voice.
"Pretty harsh for someone who follows the god of hunting to kill someone... For hunting."
"Hunting IS harsh, especially when it fails," Nedyr doesn't seem too insulted by her comment. He wasn't thrilled about needing to dispense with the animal either. "The prey may run, or it may kill you, and every hunter knows that, wolves better than most I suspect."
Satisfied that Sevrin wouldn't eat Ed, the troubled youth had ceased his activity, having chosen to enter in a staring contest with the adept's pet.
A moment passes as Ed strained his eyes. Quivering, Ed had lost the contest.
One of these days...I'll win Ed mutters as he motions past Sevrin and settles on his cot. Great axe secured back in its sheath, Ed tucked himself into bed without saying another word.
"They tried to make a meal of us and they failed. The outcome was going to be harsh no matter what. I'm just glad we mostly weren't on the sharp end of things."
Sevrin gratefully basks in the relief from pain Delia's spell brings him.
"Thank you, that's so much better." Absently he pokes a finger through the hole left in his trousers by the wolf's teeth as he watches Ed's odd confrontation with Rilyeh.
He looks at the lizard in befuddlement "What's he going to win?" With no answer from the little creature, Sevrin shrugs.
"We'll worry about that latter I guess. So, whose watch is it now?"
"I'll stay up a bit longer, I have to skin these anyway" he says, "These pelts may help folks handle the winter better when we get back."
The few hours of Nedyr's watch pass uneventfully as he carefully skins the two wolf pelts. The naked and grisly bodies of the wolves set far to the side of camp, they'd still be edible... if the group wasn't opposed to the idea of wolf-steaks. The pelts themselves came off wonderfully, thanks to Nedyr's practiced and steady hand. The glistening coats of the wolves would surely fetch a pretty penny to the right furrier, or a fine blanket to the right leather worker.
The final watch change occurs a few hours before dawn. Nedyr, glad to finally have his own rest, switches places with Sevrin. Despite the encounter with the wolves, he steels himself through till dawn, as the first rays of light break through the heavy canopy of the Fangwood.
The druid dreams of fire and wolves, which makes sense considering recent events. He wakes energized enough though, and yawns stretching, "Good morning. Is everyone ready to go?"
Hearing Nedyr's voice, Ed had sprang up, quickly grabbing his battle axe and looking around with alarm. Having battled against wolves just hours prior, the troubled youth wasn't going to become something's breakfast.
"huhh!!!!" Ed had roared, realizing that it was a chilly morning with huddled bodies instead of snarling wolves.
Coming down to his senses, he plopped himself near his cot and rummaged through his backpack for a trail ration.
With a mouth filled with stale bread, he poked his sister's cot, having little regard for her retaliation.
"Oy!! baby sis! WAKE UP!!"
.
"Ed, next time you jump up to battle delusional adversaries, could you please avoid stepping on me?"
Having been awoken, Délia prepares herself to continue the journey, though she is still a bit groggy.
"Yeah, I'm ready."
Nedyr can't help but smile a bit at Ed's antics, then again, he wasn't the one who got stepped on.
The other Tirel smacks her minutes older brother with well practiced aim. She sits up in her bedroll blearily glaring at her brother.
"If you don't stop, I'm going to make you sing soprano."
Once Sevrin notices his companions beginning to stir he slips away into the woods to commune with Rilyeh. He returns a while latter without comment and begins stow his possesions for travel.
Rilyeh notices Ed is awake and flits over to stump nearby, fixing him with a steady unblinking gaze.
Taking a harsh cue from his sister, Ed had merely rolled back and righted himself. Offering a smile to the crowd awakening before him, he spoke up.
And a morning to ya!
In which he seemingly stripped his tunic and sleeping ware, donning his elk hide armor. As always, Ed was completely oblivious of his team's gaze.
Some moments have passed, while the group looked blankly at Edvard. Feeling the dawn of the new day, and the sense of another fun filled day with untold horrors and monsters, what possibly could go wrong?
Securing his great axe along his back, and slinging a backpack over his shoulder Edvard had simply said to the group.
"Oy mates! Are we gonna head out or not? I'm sure more wolves would love to have us for breakfast...say over eggs and ham, hum? Say Nedyr, got that map handy, we've got a task to accomplish!
It was weird for a moment having seen Ed go from completely loony to leader. But if there were gonna survive this gauntlet, it would take the party's combined effort.
"You're quite right, Edvard. Pardon, I got distracted and lost in thought," Nedyr nods and starts the walk towards their goal.
Even despite the thick canopy of the Fangwood, it is clear the day is going to be a dreary one. Through the branches, the overcast skies choke out the sun, giving only occasional glimpses of the bright sky. A strong, wintery wind blows through the forest, whipping at the travelers as they make their way onward.
The next landmark on the map was the Grey Lake - and it was no more than a few hours travel away.
Nedyr manages to lead the group back onto the same trail they'd followed the previous day. And while it winds its way through the forest, it eventually breaks through the thick undergrowth and onto the shores of the Grey Lake.
Surrounded by a meadow of relatively short grasses and low bushes, the Grey Lake is a calm - only occasionally disturbed by the winds blowing across its body. At the moment, it lives up to its name, with the dreary clouds above reflecting off of its still surface. In the distance, a thick fog rolls across the lake, obscuring the far shore from view.
The shore before you is a mixture of mud and sand, with plenty of reeds making their home here. As another gust of wind blows by, you notice a large, dark lump lying in the shallows.
"Anyone else see that?" Nedyr says as he looks at the lump in the shallows.
Leaning just a little bit closer to the object, Nedyr immediately recognizes it for what it is - a body.
Even from a distance, it look as though the corpse has been laying in the muck for quite a while. His clothing is tattered and faded, as the body lays half-sunken into the muddy banks of the Grey Lake.
"Ed, it's a corpse. Help me get it out of the water..." He moves forward to pull it out.
"A c-corpse! This trip gets darker by the hour."
Sevrin makes no move toward the body but instead scans the area in a slightly paranoid fashion.
"If he's been dead for a while, whatever killed him is probably long gone, right?" Sevrin does not sound convinced by his own words.
Rilyeh takes flight, swooping out over the lake on patrol for anything alarming.
"One hopes you're right, Sevrin,"
Grunting at the sight of the mucked body, Ed feigned interest. It was a silly idea for any person to writhe around in the mud - but since he's part of a time, he'd no other better idea.
Ed meanders to Nedyr and attempts to wrestle the body out of the muck.
" hurrrghhhh!!!! " groans Ed.
Ed and Ned slosh through the reeds over to the body. He's certainly seen better days.
Hauling the man - or what was once a man - to shore, Nedyr and Edvard look the man over. Large bites have torn through his clothing, leaving exposed flesh in the areas that were no longer covered by his waterlogged vestments. Most of the bites are the same size and shape, likely coming from the same attacker or scavenger. The man's face has begun to decompose, leaving a rather grisly expression - fortunately, it is mostly covered with mud. There are a few leather pouches on his belt, but the water has rotted them to nearly nothing.
Meanwhile, Sevrin looks around nervously while his reptilian companion takes to the skies. Above the placid lake, Rilyeh sees little more than the rippling of the wind across the waters.
Délia leans forward to see the corpse better. Probably some non-illusionary bandit who had a terrible luck.
"Does he have anything valuable with him?"
Knowing full well that dead bodies and alike would frighten his twin, Ed thought the best idea. Using his finger, he inscribed a happy face into still damp mud on the dead person. Feeling that it was both appropriate and uplifting, Ed had contributed to the situation.
"Not so scary now..."
Despite his best attempt, the dead body was still dead - but now with a smile.
Nedyr gives Delia and Ed an incredulous stare for a moment, then shakes his head, "Maybe there's something left to identify who he might have been but I doubt it. The leather has rotted. Still," He searches the decayed pouches anyway. Perhaps something sturdier lies within, some clue as to who the fellow was.
"I wonder if any creatures around here would leave bite marks like that."
Digging into the wet pouches, Nedyr pulls out a small coinpurse. Equally damp, the bag tears open as Nedyr lifts it from the corpse, spilling a small pile of gold onto the banks of the lake. Delia gladly helps him scoop up the gold - a total of 87 pieces. The coins look relatively new, despite being damp. The coinpurse must have protected them from getting as muddied as the man himself.
While reaching down to pick up one of the coins, Delia also notices a glint of metal peeking out of some of the brush. Pushing aside the reeds and other low growth, she finds a well-crafted short sword. It couldn't have been more than a few feet from where you found the corpse of the man, and it was in remarkably good shape considering that it was found laying in the grass. Only small patches of wear have begun to deteriorate the blade - and any good smith could have it back in perfect condition within a matter of hours.
Unfortunately - the man has no identification with him. At least none that survived.
Délia happily stores both the coin and the sword.
"Shall we continue our travels? I think our new friend wishes some privacy."
"I wish we had time for a proper burial," Nedyr says with a frown. "Do you think we might? I suppose we could burn the body but as damp as he is..."
"I suppose burial would probably be easier given the cirumstances. We could do that."
Sevrin shrugs.
"Why don't we just toss him back in the muck weighed down by a rock. Less effort on our part." said Edvard as he offered his more practical solution to the matter at hand.
"That way the fish will eat him and he can be part of of the cycles of nature and whatnot." Sevrin addresses Nedyr hopefully.
"Do what you wish, I'm not going to touch that corpse anymore."
"Hold on, if we're going to do that, we should do it right. This won't be pleasant looking but it will speed up the body's deterioration so there will be less chance of tainting things and he'll be...well, eaten quicker. He'll also sink a bit better, " Nedyr makes a face, takes a deep breath and then cuts the man open. He sets rocks in the belly, and lets the corpse sink as he prays aloud, "Erastil, We return this shell to the waters that yielded him up, to be part of nature's bounty. We know that his soul goes on to the Boneyard, and may that soul know peace. May his loved ones heal from the loss of him as time unfolds. Comfort his family, Erastil and aid them I pray. May he find his ancestors on the other side waiting with open arms. So mote it be."
He washes the blood from his hands and sickle with an odd sort of reverence, and then looks to the others, "Thank you for your patience. I know the elders of the Church would want me to have done something, and I know I would have wanted a farewell of some sort if it were me."
"I suppose it would be disappointing to have one's passing without acknowledgement. Goodbye, whoever. Uh, thanks for the gold?"
Sevrin looks at the water pensively for a moment.
"Lets move on then, think we can reach the crypt tonight?"
"I'm not sure, but we'll cover good ground," the druid believes.
Rolling his eyes, Edvard didn't bark out any witty one-liners. Sure, at times he could be an obnoxious and overbearing mess, he did have within him some respect - how ever abysmally small.
"We've got to double our efforts if we wish to pursue further" Said Edvard while he shuffled his backpack. A kettle clanged against the bulky metal of his great axe. The large weapon was simple beyond all means - hefty shaped metal stuck on a dark oak handle bearing a small inscription. The funky letters were Ed's poor attempt at runic typography.
While not quite as talented as Nedyr when it came to leading the group through the wilds, Edvard manages to plot a straight enough course heading almost directly south. Once again on a small path tread only by the Fangwood's locals, the deepening maze of trees slowly blots out the sky, obscuring it almost entirely from view. The dim light that manages to pierce through the canopy of both the clouds and the forest barely illuminates the trail.
As the group winds their way through the Fangwood, the growth gets thicker and thicker. Soon even the path they tread upon was hardly more than a slightly-less-thick patch of undergrowth. To make matter that much worse, the ground itself began to give way to hilly ravines, making each step either an uphill struggle or a slide down another.
And - if that wasn't already enough - the sky reminds the young adventurers of its presence beyond the forest's canopy with a light shower of cold rain. While the tree's branches do wonders to block much of the shower, enough seeps through to make the journey just a little more uncomfortable.
Eventually, about three hours after leaving the banks of the Gray Lake, the group finds themselves topping a small rise - and beyond it lies a huge chasm in the Fangwood. The broad valley is labeled on the map as "The Serpent Gorge" - and somewhere at the base of the valley was the Crypt of the Everflame. As the trees began to thin out across the valley, the rain came down in full force, making the already-steep hill into a mud-slicked, steep hill. And it was quite a long way to its base...
The steep and dangerously slippery hill would scream "broken bones" to any moderately reasonable person. For Délia, though, the hill screamt "fun".
She takes a few steps back, then sprints forward and jumps on the mud-soaked slope, the intention being to gracefully slide down to the base...
"Graceful" isn't exactly the term anyone would use for the spectacle that Delia performed as she began her descent into the valley. Mud flew up around her heels as she (quite nimbly, all things considered) glided down the slope. Pant legs now painted in mud, she swerved around the few trees that had managed to find purchase on the steep hill. The slip-n-slide adventure stopped at a small section of flat terrain, roughly halfway down the hill.
And the rest of the hill didn't look any better.