The party moves through the overrun cornfield approaching the hill. The wild stalks make visibility difficult but glimpses of the large stone figures are seen through the corn every so often. The shadows they cast in the morning sun are quite long, darkening the area.
"Nice morning, isn't it?" Roswitha offers, breathing deeply of the fresh morning air as she clambers aboard her horse and settles Stem's lead rein. The brush of dewy cornstalks against her garments leaves them damp to the point of soaking through to her skin, but she seems pleased enough with a good night's rest to skip complaining about the wet.
"Aye, it's a bit nippy owt, but it'll get warmer as the day grows on." Ali adds softly as they walk towards the figure and the dead animal. "Well best be finding what this is so as I can write it down on my map. "
Moving with a certain trepidation through the damp morning dew, Ali squints carefully at the shadows and mist of the oracle's vision.
From his vantage low in the cornstalks, Glen sees nothing much has changed save some flies now buzz around the now not-quite-as-freshly killed deer.
"So guys, shall we approach and take a quick look around?" Ali says softly as the scene seems not to have changed. Before striding forwards to the statue and the 'offering' left there.
"T' meat don't look too fresh." voice low with a slight queasy tone.
The longer you stand there observing them, the more you begin to feel they—or something—is also watching you.
Glen happily goes along with the rest of the party to investigate the intriguing statues. He certainly was not opposed to getting a closer look at them, but thought the group was eager to move on he must have misread the situation. The little goblin looks up at Ali when he comments about the deer not being fresh "It is relatively fresh Glen is fairly certain it was killed quite recently, but we should leave it all the same."
Peering up at the statues Glen feels the urge to hide himself in the shadows once more, he avoids the statues' line of sight despite the fact that stone shouldn't be able to see him anyway. "Something feels odd about them... like they could come alive at any time. Could there be magic at work here? Can you tell Ali?"
Miyari walks forward with the others and quietly makes a few notes and a couple of quick sketches in her journal. She nods towards Glen while her eyes are on the page and says, "It does feel like a rather uncomfortable place... These statues seem almost too true to life."
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"Maybe they wandered the fields and woods, looking for little kiddies to eat," Ciri yawns, "So the doting parents sacrificed the denizens of the woods, hoping to appease them. But the giants would not be distracted, so one day all the parents pooled their money and hired someone to help them. Someone who hid in a sack and was carried here, and when the giants opened the sack to eat what they thought was a little kid within... POOF! turned to stone." She turns to Arielle, telling her story with drama and hand gestures. "And do know who they hired, little Arielle? A medusa! One look at her and all her snakes, and the giants troubled the villagers no more. And the medusa got all the gold AND her pick of whatever the giants had that was valuable. Except for what they had in their pockets, because nobody can get to that."
She squints at the giants for a moment, then yells to Roswitha, "Hey, princess, they ever teach you why medusas are able to turn clothes to stone? Seems like they'd stay cloth and just rot away eventually. No? Geez, I thought you were educated." She grins at Arielle and whispers loudly, "Because if the clothes stayed clothes, I bet the giants' pants would have fallen down!"
Resuming dramatic imitation bard tones, she continues, "But now, after the sun goes down, the giants turn back to flesh and roam the countryside again, looking for children to eat or the medusa that changed them. So the locals sacrifice deer again, hoping to distract them. And when the sun rises... POOF! They're stoned again." And so her rather incoherent and nonsensical story ends, and she bows dramatically in the saddle to imaginary applause.
Arielle clutches Bubbles tightly with one hand and Roswitha with the other. She listens to Ciri with wide eyes, gasps in all the right places, and giggles at the thought of stone ogres losing their pants. When the woman is finished, Arielle peers around the area.
"Do you think they were out last night? Trying to find children to eat? Maybe this deer distracted them so they didn't find us."
"I'm pretty sure that's not the way medusa stoning works." Roswitha scowls at Ciri when Arielle isn't looking. "Do you want to go look at the stone giants? Ali is up by them, and he's fine." She looks a question at the child.
She looks up at Roswitha's face, so close as she hugs the sorcerer astride the horse. Her eyes are big and brown.
"Could we? But only if you come with Bubbles and me. Just in case they come alive." The girl looks up at the huge statues with concern.
"How about if we all go see them, together? Mr. Glen will protect us if anything happens." Roswitha motions to everyone else to ride forward to join Ali, encouraging her horse to do the same.
The horses seem skittish, but they move forward with only a little coaxing. The morning sun has risen higher, shortening the statues long shadows, but the air between them is chilly as evidenced by the breeze that brushes along the party's faces and tugs at their clothes.
As the rest of the group draws closer, everyone can clearly see the statues were once very detailed and defined but have been softened and smoothed over time with bits of moss clinging to some of the deeper crevices.
Soon a sense of unease begins to settle over those near the stone hill giants. The feeling that the statues are not in fact watching the deer corpse, but rather straining to catch a glimpse of other things. The malice in the air between the figures becomes more and more palpable until the very breeze is thick with it beginning to feel like stagnant breath heavy with humidity.
"Well, this is way less interesting than advertised. Let's go," Ciri says in a very bored manner...
... that fools nobody.
She doesn't like this place.
A shiver runs up Ali's spine as the feeling of being observed intensifies. Gently running fingertips across the rough stone, Ali nods to Glen; "Aye, I can see what I can do. There's summat wyrd here, whether or not it's magical..."
The youth then starts a low chant to summon the vision of the magical aura's to the eyes. Looking around the area, specifically focussing on the statues and where the 'offering' has been placed. With deep slow breaths, the oracle tries to concentrate on the energy of the place and what that means for the surroundings.
Then getting out his map journal, less artistic than Miyari's but focussing on the cartographical and botanical nature, Ali starts doing a few quick sketches and notes. "Jus' finish this quickly, then like Ciri says we'd best be off. Maybe do a bit of huntin' for t' fresh food, before dark."
"Okay, well, let's get going, yes. My parents always advised that if you feel a sense of unease, as if you are about to be eaten, you should likely move along," says Miyari, taking on a wise tone as she passes on such parental advice. "And I feel uneasy."
She watches Ali as he finishes the sketches, but seems quite tense and eager to move off.
Glen smiles a bit and nods towards Roswitha as she indicates he will protect them from the giants "Well Glen must admit that he is unlikely to fend off a giant made of stone, but Glen has found he is fairly proficient at remaining undetected. So do not worry little one, should the unthinkable happen and they come alive Glen will show you the best place to hide; they will never find us."
Feeling the pressure of the giants' stare bearing down Glen shifts his eyes towards his conversing companions he agrees with Miyari. "It is rather unsettling here, Glen would not like to still be nearby when it gets dark. If we are to do hunting he would prefer it not be done in the area, apart from the uneasy feeling, we know there is another hunter in the area, even if they are friendly it is easy to mistake a person as huntable game stalking through the foliage. We don't need any accidents."
A particular young girl whispers quietly:
Looking up at Roswitha, she mutters a bit louder, "I think the giant statues don't like us disturbing their meal."
"...roztrhnite mäso...ripte kožu...zlomiť kosti a piť kostnú dreň..."
Ali doesn't know what it means, but he can't seem to forget the cadence.
Moving quickly down the dale, but never really turning his vision away from the stones. Ali's gone quite pale; "Well t' magic menhirs ain't wanting us around. And as you say Glen, we don't want any accidents."
Pausing for a second and looking towards Ciri; "Do anyone know what 'Rost-i-night Maso' means?"
Ciri waggles her fingers and looks around for a minute, then addresses Ali's question. "I don't, but if you manage to say it without that abominable country drawl, you might summon whatever has that name, willy-nilly. Let's stroll, folks."
Roswitha looks down at Arielle. "You know, they would be in the right. It's rude to drop in uninvited and interrupt a meal. Let's move away and wait for the others. Besides, I don't really like looking at that messy deer."
Roswitha kicks her horse and knees it out of the ring of statues, tugging Stem along.
There is a sharp crack, almost like that of a bone breaking, and suddenly a section of the deer's rib cage seems to cave in slightly. Hmm, perhaps there is no almost about it.
At the sound of the crack, Miyari hops up lightly in surprise, her tail becoming visibly fluffed out and more rigid. She does not need any more motivation to scoop up Arielle, and then scamper off after Roswitha away from this place.
Due to the seemingly unnatural feeling the area purveys, the expedition chooses to move along. The day is still very young, so no time has been lost in order to explore the next area.
Off in the distance there appears to be a field of brambles which seem to have a path cut through them.
Arielle cranes her neck from where she sits in front of Roswitha on the saddle. She seems rather interested in something on the ground.
Looking away from the deer carcass with a pale face, Ali shakes his close cropped locks in disgust and tries to move off qucikly muttering; "If that's the case then t' sacrifice could surely have been last night as Miyari guessed."
Taking out the notebook as they pass the briar patch, Ali scribbles something in it for this area. "Brambles, that usually means blackberries. Tho' not sure if they be in season at the moment, but if they are - they're good eating."
"Should we check and maybe pick some or just carry on?" he asks.
"We could always follow the path to see where that wagon went. Or, y'know, not," Ciri yawns. "Wagons are more interesting than blackberries. Unless you're really hungry. Unless you're a cannibal, that is. Whatver. We keep going or follow the wagon? They might be in trouble and willing to pay a reward for help. It's been a while since it passed, though."
Ciri looks unusually sad at the thought that it might be too late to be mercenary.
"Do you or Mr. Bubbles see anything interesting, little one? Ripe blackberries?" Roswitha unconsciously hangs on to Arielle so the girl can lean and look without falling from the saddle.
"Well, if we're not looking for somebody in or with a wagon, I guess we can keep moving along."
"No opinion? Man, you're a dull bunch. Fine. I'll flip a coin. Heads, wagon. Tails, we keep moving as we were." Ciri pulls a tiny copper piece from her belt pouch, launches it into the air with the tip of her thumbnail, catches the flashing, spinning disc in her palm, and slaps it onto her wrist. She peeks at it, careful not to let it slide from her slender forearm.
"Sweet! Let's see where the wagon went. Maybe they ran into trouble and we can salvage what's left." She tugs her horse's reins, aligning it down the center of the faint wagon tracks, and kicks it into motion.
Roswitha follows, tugging Stem behind, since they are now going in the direction that Arielle was peering.
"Wagon? Well what'd they be doing drivin' thro' a blackberry patch?" Ali wonders, as Ciri makes a decision. "Yep best be off after them." The youth follows behind rushing.
Glen moves to follow the others going after the wagon. "Indeed best follow the tracks, there's no way to ascertain what's happened to the wagon otherwise."
The little goblin examines the wagon tracks briefly then shrugs his shoulders "The tracks are fairly overgrown, it has likely been quite some time since they were made. It's unlikely there will still be anyone in need of assistance, but perhaps we can find something interesting as Ms. Ciri said."
Ali looks around sheepishly having not seen tracks, or any evidence of a cart or wagon just a few bushes. "Good work, Glen. So time to see where they were heading? Maybe there's a bandit hideout, or a secret cache, or a ancient shrine...."
Ali is soon lost in thought of other weird and wonderful places, that a wagon may visit in the middle of nowhere.
"Or perhaps the wagon just continued on, having met no resistance or end, and to this very day it is still just rolling along on its path," comments Miyari, tone light. "But given that it is our job to explore the area, I suppose there are worse things to do than following an aimless wagon."
As the expedition alters its trajectory to follow the wagon tracks, one can't help but notice the fine spring day the morning has become. A light breeze blows from the east falling from the tops of the tall forest trees seen far away on the horizon. The sun is overhead exhuding a warmth which begins dispelling the chill which had set in after the experience with the eerie circle of hill giant sculptures.
The tracks continue on and soon the solar star has begun its trek towards the forest still distant across the plains. As strange as it seems, the tracks almost seem to be merging into a more worn and visible path. After a while, the tracks fade away in favor of what might almost be a road. On either side, one would almost think the land appears...worked. Traces of what might be humanoid activity seem evident but could simply be coincidental. In the distance...what could that be?
Ali pushes their cloak off their shoulders as the sun burns away the remnants of the sharp weather; "This looks promising, seems their might be a homestead at least out this way, or a really old settlement. I ain't no farmer but seems someone's using the fields, what do you think?" Ali throws the question out there as the continue down the 'road'.
"Indeed, it seems as though this area is a fair bit more well-travelled at least," says Miyari, sniffing the air lightly. "Though I suppose it could also be some kind of herd of animals that act in some way we don't know! I hope it's a person out here, though. A friendly person!"
Ciri sighs heavily. "Civilization. Boring. I was hoping to find something valu--- interesting."
"Maybe there's an inn with hot baths?" Roswitha ventures hopefully.
The troupe continues along the well-worn path as the sun continues to drop towards the distant trees. The breeze seems to gain a decidedly chillier edge as the light takes on the orange tones of pre-sunset.
"Hoy there!" says a gruff voice from behind. A grizzled man rides a cart full of stock pulled by a barrel chested draft horse. "Hoy! Good day to ya. Are you heading to Windhorn Estate, by chance?"
"The Windhorn Estate? I suppose, if that is the direction that we're going," says Miyari while she turns around to look towards the man. "Someone has an estate out here? Seems a little far out."
The man shrugs. "Not as far as some, I'd say," he says without elaboration.
"The name's Ianto Gruffley," the gruff man says gruffly. "I have a delivery of groceries and sundries that needs to get to Windhorn Estate, but I'm running a bit behind schedule. If I could skip this leg, it would get me back on track.
Ianto looks over the party, his eye lingering on Arielle. He nods to himself seeming to reach a conclusion.
"[b]You all look like decent folk. I can't imagine you're troublemakers on account of having a child with you."
He gestures in the direction of some of the goods in cart. "I'll sell you the delivery for half what they're supposed to pay. You can keep the full payment they give you when you get there, if you're interested."
He cocks his head.
"Forty gold coins covers the cost of the goods and delivery. You give me twenty, and you can keep the rest from Windhorn. What do you say?"
Moving from behind the animals, glad that Miyari has taken the lead and talked to the man. Ali looks towards the merchant, trying to assess if he's a decent sort or a flim-flam artist; "Sounds like a bargain, mister. Who'd we hafta deliver the goods to? A butler or the like? And how far away is the Windhorn estate, we're not the most local group."
Ali leans over to Glen and whispers; "I've got like 5 gold, but not much more."
Miyari also is careful to examine the man for a moment before considering the offer.
"That seems like it would be good for us to do," says Miyari with a bit of hesitation as she starts through her own pockets to turn up absolutely nothing. It turns out that an aspiring writer far from civilization does not make for rich living.
Roswitha blushes as she tries not to think about the 39 gold sovereigns hidden in her gear. "We have no cart in which to haul the goods, sir, just this poor mule who - alas! - is rather burdened with my goods. Unless we could lash it somehow onto the horses and walk ourselves." She looks dubiously at the size of the cart.