What's all this now?!
Proffering Kreed's writ, Kairon shoulders his way into the room. Kreed wanted us to check in with you to make sure you knew we'd be heading into the woods. We're trying to track down some rare ingredients we need for a cure for the Blackscour. You'll find he made it clear that we can call upon you for aid, so long as we don't endanger you or the lumberjacks. That in mind, we'd like to speak with Milon Roddham as quick as we can.
Kreed's foreman takes the writ, and like everyone else looks it over, then hands it back. He looks Kairon up and down, and Lunarinus, still in the doorway, as well. I'm going to go ahead and guess you're not heading into the woods tonight. Not sure exactly what Kreed meant by aid, he tends to be a tight-pocketed boss. I've had more than a few of my Jacks that went into town on their regular leave not able to come back to work 'cause they picked up this illness, so far, thankfully, he says and looks up to the ceiling, thank the gods, it hasn't made it's way out here to the camps. He pauses a moment again, and both Kairon and Lunarinus feel scrutinized. If you want you can grab a meal out of the mess hall. He says and jerks a thumb pointing to his left, apparently indicating another of the buildings. Most men eat out by their tent fires, he again jerks a thumb pointing to his left. I wouldn't exect too much camaraderie from 'em. They're usually drunk or tired or both, and 'less they know you it wouldn't do much good trying to fire up a conversation. If you get my meaning. At this point Jarlben's look changes, subtly, but still. As for Milon, he pauses, well there I've got to be the bearer of bad news. He hasn't come back from his ranging for two days now. It's not unheard of, man loves the outdoors and that hawk of his more than people I think. There're other rangers here you could question, Ardan or Curren. I think I saw them stroll in this afternoon. They won't know near as much as Milon, but they might be able to answer whatever question's you've got about the woods. Jarlben stands up from his desk chair then, and begins to stroke the fur of a stuffed fox that rests on his desk. Seeing him pet the dead fox opens your eyes to the fact that his office is stuffed with stuffed animals. Taxidermy creatures are present everywhere, birds, rodents, even some strange creature with a shell-like hide and a long snout. He pets the long-eared fox from its crown to its tri-colored tail. If there's more I can do, let me know. I want this disease cured as much as any Valer. I've got relatives in town. He says, letting that explain everything.
Lunarinus looks out from the doorway at the group and says. Trookshavits is offering us all a meal from the mess hall. That's a yes, right? He smiles, very pleased that Jarlben seems to be a very reasonable man who is genuinely willing to help. Milon's not in though, we might need to seek out another ranger. He turns to Jarlben then and asks, These other rangers, Ardan and Curren, how will we know who they are?
Ah, good question. Curren is a dwarf, short, even for a dwarf, dark of complexion with oil-slicked jet black hair he usually keeps in a tail bound by a silver ring. Ardan's a tall older chap, gray hair, gray beard, muscular, seen a lot, was a ranger in the Arthfell for a good stretch o' years, but came up here at the beginning of the summer. They'll both be wearing leather armor, and be pretty well armed. That's one way to tell 'em apart from the Jacks. Jacks'll have an axe or a hatchet at most, and none of 'em'll be wearing armor. Trookshavits says, then sits back down in his chair and begins looking at the page of the book he was examining when the door opened.
If there's nothing more, I'd like to try and finish my bookkeeping for the day so I can get a meal myself. You can set up tents anywhere in the grass east of here. You'll see some out there already on the other side of the buildings.
Lunarinus nods in thanks to the lumber foreman's generosity. You have my gratitude. We'll get our meal, set up camp and then look for these other rangers. Again, thank you. He steps out waiting for Kairon and then moves in the direction Jarlben indicated the mess hall would be. I'm sure everybody is hungry after that jog. Plus I doubt with Dolok around we'll have trouble getting a fire started in the dark. He says, smiling at the fiery-haired, fiery-tempered youth.
Dolok grins at Lunarinus, "Certainly, starting a fire won't be an issue! Now, a shorter than most, armored, well armed Dwarf & a human who is also wearing leather armor & well armed eh? Shouldn't be too hard to find. Let's keep an eye out for those two as we go get some grub. I'm starving! I do hope Milon's ok."
Baradim walks with the rest of them, staying quiet for most of this with Kanga staying by his side. He listens to Dolok's description of the men and gives a nod, scanning the crowd for anyone who seems to match the description of being armored and carrying blades, a man and a dwarf.
"I too could enjoy a meal myself..." Baradim will murmur as he walks in the direction of the mess hall, on the lookout though.
Chillel seems subdued and thoughtful when replying to Dolok:-
Food is past due. Perhaps if we find Curren, Arden or both we can get some idea where Milon went.
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As if on command, Illiam's stomach growls. Well, I don't see anyone matching that description around here. Did somebody mention food? He looks around, trying to guess which building is the mess hall (having not seen Jarlben gesture toward it).
Then, sniffing the air, Illiam wanders toward the center of the camp, then follows his nose through the double doors of the mess hall.
Dolok does not see either of the men they are looking for either. "Don't seem them out here. Might as well head in & get some grub. Those fellas may even be inside there."
Illiam's nose leads him, and the rest of the party, directly to the building adjacent to the office. The chimney on the eastern side of the building is currently pouring out smoke and the smell of food. Finding a set of double doors on the northwestern corner of the building Illiam enters to see two tables, the first is empty the second has a few loaves of hard-crusted bread, and wooden bowls. A plump, light-skinned man turns around from his place in front of the fire stirring the contents of a large black cauldron over the fire. When he sees Illiam his thin eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Well there's a new one, halfling lumberjacks? He says and stops his stirring to turn around. Watching the rest of the group filter in he realizes something out of the ordinary is afoot. Well, what in the name of Erastil is this all about? He says, and grabs a huge butcher knife off of a cutting board from the table in front of him.
"It is ok good sir! Greetings! Mister Trookshavits has sent us over here to get a hot meal. We have been sent by The Gavel himself to try to obtain a cure for the sickness that is plaguing Falcon's Hollow. You may rest assured that we mean you no harm. My name is Dolok Pickering, perhaps you have heard of me? I am the apprentice to the blacksmith, Master Figeuroa. This is the Lady Chillel, whom the Gavel has asked her to help us in the search for the cure. This gentleman is Sir Lunarinus, Sir Kairon and Sir Goruck, who have all been sent as an envoy from a church in Almas to try to find this cure, and these are the good men Illiam and Baradim who are also along to assist in this search for the cure. And now, good sir, could I get you to put down that knife - as you are making some of us a bit nervous with your intentions - and please give us your good name sir?" Dolok will wave his arm in the direction of each of these persons as he introduces them as they come walking in.
Chillel, tired and hungry, is entering the building when the man raises the knife. She stops still to avoid provoking anyone, while getting ready to use the slumber hex to put him to sleep if he actually tries to stab anyone. She nods approvingly at Dolok's attempt to smooth things over, waiting to see the result.
Moving in front of Scipio, Goruck rests one hand on his blade as he nods to Dolok's words.
Dolok's words don't really impress the pudgy cook, but the menacing size and manner of the half-orc Shogun Samurai makes him rethink his butcher knife. He slowly puts the knife back down on the butcher block. Listen, there's no need for things to get violent. You say the Gavel sent ya, and Jarlben knows yer here, that's fine enough for me at the moment. I'll have to check with the boss, but I don't see any reason to keep ya from a hot meal. Worst thing that happens is you hafta pay us back. He says, and then turns and grabs a large stack of deep wooden bowls off of a shelf next to the hearth. Step right up and grab some hare stew! Without even looking, the chubby chef begins slinging savory ladles of stew into the bowls and setting them on the table. A close inspection of the stew shows it to be comprised of some kind of dark meat and various root vegetables and potatoes.
Baradim stayed outside of the mess hall when there seemed to be an issue, the half-orc carefully watching to ensure that they aren't bothered in case of a scuffle. Things seem to be patched over though, as the cook announces for them to come in and grab some food to eat. With a quick command, he called Kanga in as well behind him and the feline stays close to him. There was a slight concern from the hunter, the jacks were jumpy folks and his companion could potentially cause some issues.
Grabbing a bowl of meat and vegetables, Baradim would give a quick nod of thanks before settling at whatever table the group seemed to be congregating at. He eats heartily and hungrily, taking a few pieces of meat and dropping them down to Kanga who voraciously consumes them.
Chillel takes a bowl with a word of thanks to the cook then sits with the others. She sniffs the bowl cautiously, then as the aroma of food takes effect starts eating more quickly than she usually would, delicate appearance taking a back seat to hunger for the present.
Saying a word of thanks to the cook, Dolok sniffs at the bowl & then starts to eat hungrily. After getting his initial hunger settled, Dolok turns towards the cook, "Thanks! I appreciate that hot stew! I wonder if I may ask you, we are looking for some rangers by the names of Curren & Ardan? Or Milon as well. Would you happen to know where any of them are? And can you tell me if any of them have been in to have supper this evening or not?"
The cook laughs at Dolok's question. Ummm, yeah, they've been here. There wouldn't be any meat in that stew without 'em. He chuckles and when he does his ample belly shakes vigorously. I'm sure they're out among the Jacks mingling and drinking whatever grog the boys located for this evening. Though, he pauses for just a second and scratches at the stubble on his double chin, I'd look for Ardan first, if it were me. He's just a bit easier to talk to, and less likely to distrust. Curren thinks there's a dark elf conspiracy hidin' round every tree.
Beggin' your pardon, sir, but I'd like to call on the Everlight's blessings for a few moments, just to check if the disease has spread past the town. I hope you understand -- just tryin' to look out for everybody.
Kairon uses his blessing of divine magic to check and see if the stew that some members of the party have already started consuming is free of disease. Thankfully, his magic senses pick up no trace of any diseases.
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Seeing that there is not a lot of room to move through the room and that the whole group won't fit at one table, Illiam the maneuverability granted by his small size to reach the bowls first. He looks at the man askance when he tries to give Illiam a portion that seems to befit his size, until the man gives in and fills the bowl. Only then does Illiam step aside to let the others through.
Thinking about which table to choose, Illiam realizes that there might be an awkward conversation if he ends up at the same table as Kairon and Scipio (Goruck, on the other hand, is quiet enough not to be such a concern, though he'll probably sit with them anyway). Illiam begins eating his meal while standing, feigning even greater hunger than he feels, while he waits to see which table the original envoy takes, so that he can sit as far away as possible in the small room.
After firing down his stew, Lunarinus thanks the cook kindly and heads out towards the camp. I appreciate the meal, but we really need to try and pick one of these rangers' brains so we know where we're heading in the morning.
Dolok follows after Lunarinus quickly, not wishing to miss out on anything! "Thanks again Cook!"
Going to the first group of 2 or more that he sees (on ground level, not in the guard tower) he will approach them cautiously but openly so as not to startle them. "Good evening good sirs! How fare you on this fine evening? ... I'm hoping you might be willing to help me and my companions. We are looking for the rangers Ardan or even Curren, any idea where they might be currently if you please?"
Chillel finishes her meal and licks her fingers clean and rises to follow Lunarinus, saying:-
I will help you look. Besides I don't want to face Hildana if I let you come to harm.
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Illiam notices the Lunarinus starting to walk out and others getting up to follow him. He swallows the last few tiny mouthfuls of stew and hands the empty bowl back to the cook, saying Thanks. through a full mouth before hurrying to catch up with the others. As they head for the camp, he looks around, trying to spot any of the rangers that were described to them (not just Ardan).
After refreshing with some hare stew and a short rest, the group follows Lunarinus out of the small bundle of buildings, east, through patchy grass, growing saplings, and sparse bushes to a small gathering of about a dozen tents and half as many fires. The swiftly setting sun and the flickering fire light create some difficulty for those without darkvision to make out faces among the Jacks, which makes for a bit of awkwardness as the group goes from fire to fire scrutinizing faces looking for either the dwarf Curren or the man Ardan. Surrounding each fire are small groups of men and a few burly women each with a hatchet at their side, or an axe strapped to their back. Many are drinking from wineskins or stone jugs, and each group gives the party curious looks and more than a few grumbles. Thankfully the awkwardness of looking for one of the rangers is quickly relieved as a loud voice comes from a fire just south of the tree line. I'm guessing you're looking for me, says a strong, deep voice. As the party moves in that direction, careful to avoid the tie lines for tents, the fire light shifts and dances across the features of a tall man. Grey-blonde hair and beard hang long with occasional small braids, and the silvery lines of a few scars mark his face. Ardan sits on the ground, his back against the thick, dead trunk of a cut tree. Against the tree trunk rests a thick, darkwood composite longbow, and a full quiver of arrows fetched with owl feathers. He wears well-used leather armor in shades of brown and green, and several daggers sit in a bandolier across his chest. He sits, running a whetstone along the edge of an also well-used Elven Curve Blade. It strikes some of the group right away that Ardan's fire has no Jacks sharing it, he seems alone. However, immediately upon nearing the circle of firelight Kanga begins a low purring growl, and Baradim sees the source of her angst, a brown bear sleeps comfortably in the shadows at Ardan's side. The bear lifts its head for a moment, surmises the cat, and drops its head back down on its forepaws and almost immediately begins snoring again.
'Tis a nice cat. Ardan says, pointing at Baradim's companion. Come... He continues, motioning to the ground around the ring of stones that protect his fire, Sit. I believe I know why you're here. Which at first seems rather absurd, but when Ardan continues the group is no less surprised to hear his words. Your looking for a cure for the Blackscour ailment, 'm'I right? He pauses for a short moment as the group all find sitting positions around his fire on one of the various segments of tree trunk that make a sitting ring around the fire. I figured somebody would be about it sooner or later. It's not natural, the disease; I could tell that just from how quickly it started spreading. He stops running the whetstone along the edge of his curved sword for a moment, pulls a short-stemmed pipe from a pouch at his belt, and fills it full of sticky tobacco, then grabs a small stick from the fire and lights it. After blowing out a few smoke rings into the fire, he finally introduces himself formally. I'm Ardan Bonsimund, formerly of the Fangwatch, and now a scout for the Lumber Consortium. I am at your service. I'm sure you have many questions. I will do my best to answer them. He lifts his tobacco pouch out then, and raises it in question. Smoke, anyone?
Thanks for the invite, Mr. Bonsimund. Unfortunately, I have no pipe.
Kairon unshoulders his pack and sets in on the ground about a quarter of the way around the firepit from Ardan, on the side opposite the ranger's "pet" bear, and settles into a cross-legged seating position, leaning against his pack. His shield still hangs over his left shoulder, and his longspear rests to his right upon the ground, in easy reach.
Dolok will sit on a side where he can keep the bear in sight. Upon seeing Ardan preparing his pipe, Dolok would naturally step over & offer to light it for him. "Excuse me Mr. Bonsimund, my name is Dolok Pickering, a Valer myself. I'm the apprentice to Mr. Figueroa the blacksmith. I see you getting your pipe ready. If it does not offend you I would be pleased to show you one of my 'skills' & light that pipe for you if I may?"
Then when he offers the smoke to the rest of the group Dolok will extend the same offer to all of them.
"Now, as to introductions, since I barely know most of these people I shall let them introduce themselves as they please. As to questions, yes, we have a few. We are looking for 3 ingredients. Elderwood moss, which as you may or may not know, is a moss that only grows on the eldest tree in a forest. So we are now looking for the oldest tree in the woods. We are also needing to get some Ironbloom mushrooms, which I understand grow on rusty iron. We have been told the ruins of the Dwarven monastery would be the place to go. We also need pickled rat-tail root. For this we've been told to try seeing the 'witch' Ulizmilla. Now, if you have any clues as to where to find any of these items or this Ulizmilla person, we would be most appreciative!
Well, there's an enthusiastic youth, and no doubt. Straight to it then, and no idle chit chat, eh? Ardan smiles and accepts Dolok's kindly offer to light his pipe with a bit of magic. As the light of Dolok's arcane fire lights up Ardan's weathered face, he smiles a welcoming smile and gives the young man a wink. Thank ye kindly Dolok. Give your master my best. I only know him by reputation, but his reputation is next to none with all the Valers about. He pauses for a long moment and takes a few more long draws off of his pipe, and turns to blow some smoke at his bear companion, reaching a hand over to scratch her ample brown rump. Milly's had a long day, so don't mind her snoring. Traipsing through the woods is a dangerous business, which you're like to know soon enough if you're headed in looking for that list of things. Ardan takes a look around the fire at all the companions; there is no judgement in his gaze, but there is an appraisal. You've got fair chances with this group I'd say. He points at Goruck and Lunarinus and says, You'll need those weapons without a doubt, so keep 'em to hand. He looks at Baradim and his large cat and says, I'm sure the two of you know your way around a forest, but these woods is tricky, the path you thought you were on, might not be the path you're on, if you catch my meaning? After looking at Illiam Ardan says, I learned a long time ago never to judge the power of a man by the size of his body, or the strength of his arm. I'm betting you've got a right few tricks up yer sleeves, what'll help in a tight pinch, or my name's not Ardan Bonsimund! That goes for a woman too. He says, nodding to Chillel, and smiling. Finally he looks at Kairon, and a knowing look comes across his face and he nods. Healer, 'm'i'right? Here, he says and reaches behind his back pulling a long thin piece of metal out from his belt. He tosses it across the fire to Kairon. I reckon you'll be needing that sooner than I will anyway, plus it's only got a handful of charges left on it. 'Bout time I requisitioned a new one.
Ardan takes a couple more drags off of his pipe pondering the list of ingredients. In the silence a howling of wolves whines out of the trees, closer than many are comfortable with. Then, those howls are echoed from some distant pack far away to the west.
They know you're here. Ardan says, as if that cryptic doesn't invoke more questions than it does peace and comfort.
Chillel responds to the offered tobacco:-
Not for me thank you, I don't smoke. I am called Chillel. My friend Dolok has covered most of it. We understand the ranger Milon has gone into the woods and not returned. Has he been gone long enough to be of concern? And do you have any idea where he was going?
Then, hearing the wolves and Ardan's cryptic remark, then normally unflappable Chillel looks puzzled and concerned, adding:-
The wolves know we are here? Those are natural wolves, or no?
"Wolves know we are here? What kind of wolves we talking about here? And how do you know that 'they' know? What are you talking about Ardan?" As you all see flames appearing in Dolok's hands ..."Are we in danger Ardan?"
Baradim carefully makes his way over with the others, looking along the tents of lumberjacks for one of the two rangers outside of Milon. The irritable looks from the Jacks as the envoy perused through the encampment was growing tiresome and the half-orc welcome the man alerting them of where he was. The half-orc approached, catching sight of the fine weaponry, armor, and companion that all laid beside the man known as Arden.
"Tis a nice bear." Baradim says with a small grin, running a hand through Kanga's fur and helping ease the tension of his beast. He rests down upon his haunches, enjoying the fire's warmth that emanates from the campfire. The smell of firewood, the tobacco, and the cool air coming from the Crag and through the forest seem to relax the half-orc more as he nods towards the man. "Hail Ardan. I am Baradim and this is Kanga." Baradim sits nearby the bear with Kanga on the opposite side, unafraid of the massive beast's potential deadliness. No bear would come to the summons of a ranger unless he was skilled enough to match its spirit. The admiration that Baradim felt for the man had grown in just those few moments. With the pipe offered, Baradim will take it and pull upon it slowly. The burning embers light up the hunter's face for a moment, before a torrent of smoke slowly escapes his mouth like the smokey breath of ancient dragons.
Baradim listens carefully as the experienced ranger gives an appraisal of the others that are there and the half-orc takes the time to truly look at his companions. They were skilled in both arms, magic, and talent, and there was suddenly a surge of confidence in him despite fatigue that wore so heavily upon his frame now. Looking towards Ardan, he gives a small nod and looks back out towards the woods properly. "There are tricks and deceit in those woods, mysteries older than any of us can imagine. Kanga and I will keep our eyes sharp and trust in our instincts. The Archdruid will lead us true, if we deserve it."
The howls of the wolves get both Baradim and Kanga's attention as they stare off into the darkness, the answering howls bringing a smile to his face. "A new pack has arrived..." He murmurs underneath his breath, taking the pipe once more if offered as Chillel asks about the wolves that dwell within the woods.
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As if in response to Ardan's comment about him, Illiam ceases his unsuccessful attempts to climb one of the large, teetering logs, turns around. Then, looking like he's about to take a seat on the ground in front of the log, Illiam instead teleports into place on top of it. He then simply nods to the ranger in acknowledgement.
Then in response to the man's previous comment about the woods (apparently not catching his meaning), Illiam asks, I've heard that before about the woods. Tell me, are the woods simply that difficult to navigate, even for an experienced ranger like yourself, or is there perhaps some magic at play? Remembering Chillel's earlier comments about Sharvaros Vade's history, Illiam adds Do you have any reason to believe that the Fey may be involved?
Murmuring a quiet sound of agreement, Goruck quickly eats his meal before following the rest of the party. Upon coming across the bear Goruck nearly snorts. These Valers seem to enjoy having wild beasts as compannions. Surprised they haven't tried to tame the woods yet.
Given the opportunity, Goruck grants the man respect worthy of a survivor. "I am Goruck of the Stone, and I'm afraid I must decline your offer. Unpleasant memories."
Lowering his hand to his blade, the swordsman pops the blade barely free of the scabbard, the tiny sliver of steel reflecting the fire's light. Do not under estimate any foe, or history shall repeat itself. Turning to Baradim, he asks, "Mans biedrs, ko tu domā ar jaunu iepakojumu?"
Baradim leans in towards Goruck, gesturing out to the woods that lay beyond the fire.
"Mēs esam jauns iepakojums, draugs. Mums ir svaigi, nepārbaudīta, bet spēcīgs." There is a cunning smile upon Baradim's face as he stare out into the darkness, listening to the conversation the others continue with Arden in case something new arises or there is a point that Baradim could help make. The ranger seems to have things handled though and is far wiser than he is in the wood's ways.
"Man mācīja, ka mežs bija vairāk nekā dzīvs. Tas ir bijis viens. Tā bija viena vienība. Tā atzīst mūs apsveic mūs, un tas būs izaicinājums mums." Baradim says in his guttural tongue, nodding once more to the forest. It was hard to read the expression on the hunter's face thanks to the darkness outside of the warm fire. A mixture of fear, excitement, and respect shined within those golden eyes.
Chillel, looking intently into the darkness, apparently entirely casually replies:-
Možno, možno nie môj priateľ.
"Įrašyti ir išvalyti!" You see Dolok waving his hands around ... As the fire in Dolok's hands intensifies ...
There is a momentary looks of surprise from Baradim as Chillel speaks his and Goruck's tongue, his tusks growing more apparent as he laughs and leans back against Kanga's laying form.
"Godīgi. Varbūt viņi vienkārši ļaujot mums zināt, kur viņi ir, lai mēs varētu saņemt svaigu gaļu. Vai tie ir vilkačiem, un mēs esam ļoti, ļoti nelaimīgs." He then quiets down, looking towards Illiam and giving a slight nod.
"Could be, if we're unlucky. The Fey fought hard against the settling of Falcon's Hollow and continue to obstruct us when they can. They don't appreciate their home being cut down and carried away."
Dolok rises up and with his shouting, Kanga gets up as well with a growl. This causes Baradim's head to meet the hard ground with an oomph as the half-orc mumbles for a moment in irritation before rising his head.
"Calm down Dolok. We were merely being polite of Arden and not trying to have too many of the same tongues go at once. No one is attacking right now, I have Kanga watching."
The massive cat stretches with a yawn before sitting against Baradim's back, watching the darkness. Baradim's hand trails through the thick fur but this time, there is power behind it as Kanga's senses tighten and focus.
Ardan blinks as Illiam magically appears on top of the log. See, I knew you had some tricks. He hands his pipe to Baradim and listens to his surmising of the situation. Tu runā gudrus vārdus Baradim. Ardan says, taking the pipe back from the half-orc hunter, and taking a few puffs on it before addressing everyone’s comments and questions. Baradim’s experience has explained much already. He is right, both that the woods are alive, living, as though one creature. Yet they are separate as well, it is in their rule that the woods live and act in unity. They are ruled by Syntira, queen of the wood. Which is an answer to your question as well little one, Ardan says nodding to Illiam. One could rightfully name this wood a Fey wood, for Syntira is a nymph, the wood is hers, and there are many fey creatures that serve her loyally. As Ardan pauses in his speech, another round of howling comes from deep within the forest, echoed again by some far off pack. Baradim is also right that the wolves of the wood have sensed a new pack, you seven. There is a reason these hills, he points generally south and east, are called the wolfrun hills. They’re crawling with wolves, all of them one pack, they are led by a king and queen themselves, winter wolves who offer fealty to Syntira. So to answer your question Dolok, are you in danger? Yes, but not tonight. The Consortium has reached a tentative stalemate with the queen of the wood. She tolerates their presence, and they don’t provoke her ire. You would be wise to not provoke it either, but by entering her wood, running deep in it, you will provoke a test, my guess is the wolves have asked for the joy of being your test. Will they attack tonight? No, not by my guess, but be on your guard tomorrow, for they know the woods like their own den, and they will test your strength. He stops his lengthy speech for a moment and takes some slow deliberate puffs on his pipe. Now to get to the real why for coming to see me: a list of rare ingredients. You need to know where to start your search. At this he reaches into the shadows next to his big brown bear, perhaps into a pack that rests there in the shadows, and pulls out a piece of parchment and charcoal stick. He draws a quick sketch of the woods marking several locations. Here’s us. He says and make sure everyone gets a good look to orient themselves to the map. This here is the monastery, and I can tell you with certainty there are a host of ironbloom mushrooms there, spiders too, and something else that wouldn’t come down off the ceiling to give me a good look at it. This here, he says pointing at a mark near the top, is the oldest growth in the forest, and it’s also the hardest part of the forest to penetrate. It’s said the gate to Syntira’s sanctuary is there, so don’t expect a welcoming party if you are able to get past the tricks of the trees. If you’re looking for elderwood moss, it’ll be there. The oldest tree in these woods is thousands of years old, and she’ll probably have a trunk as wide around as the Arcaneum’s tower in Absalom. I’ve never seen it myself, but it’s got to be there. He pauses for a moment before making his last mark. This here is the last place I personally saw Ulizmilla’s hut. I’ve had a couple encounters with the witch. You see her, just keep your wits about you, she’ll charm your sword right out of its sheathe and then tell you to stab your own mom with it. And the damndest thing is, you’ll want to. Girl’s got a lot of weird ingredients hanging out in that hut of hers, but if she ain’t home, I wouldn’t go in uninvited, she’s got ways of dealing with unwanted intruders. Ardan holds the map out waiting for someone to take it. I wish you luck and the blessings of whatever gods or goddesses you worship. You’re going to need it. He says, and then sits back against his log, scratches Milly’s rump, and puffs away on his pipe, seemingly satisfied that he’s done as much as he can do.
Suddenly remembering he did not address the questions about Milon, Ardan speaks up once more. Forgot to mention Milon. I'll tell ye honestly that I'm worried for him. Was with the Fangwatch for twenty-three years, and never saw a better ranger than Milon Rhoddam. Sometimes it seems like he can see right out of the eyes of that hawk he's with. It's not the first time he's been gone so long, but there seems to be an angry energy in the woods of late. Like it's waiting for something, or about to start something. He looks at Baradim as he says it, and then adds, bīstamas
From the first post: You speak wise words
This post: Threatening.
Baradim listens carefully and intently to the ranger's words, looking over the makeshift map that Arden creates and studying the directions with it. With the little tricks that he has learned, he is certain that he can guide them faithfully to and from. It will require skill though to keep them safe from the greatest dangers of the woods but there is a cautioned confidence within him.
It was the last word that made Baradim's smile fade a little, a more serious look upon the half-orc's face as he gave a small nod. "We'll be careful and we shall move quickly. Show Syntira the respect she deserves and get out with what we need. Arden, if it would not be too much trouble, would you mind if we share your fire for the night? Morning comes always too quickly..."
Chillel listens attentively, saying in response:-
Wolves, spiders, nymphs and witches of unknown power, other unidentified hazards, we have a perilous journey ahead. However, your knowledge and advice must give us a better chance of success. You have my heartfelt thanks. If we encounter Milon we will try to bring him back safely.
Just our luck! Falcon's Hollow could just as well have an outbreak of an illness for which the remedy is rest and chicken soup.
And we don't even know if this cure will work. I mean, it sounds more like a formulae to summon some fiend from the pits of hell than anything medicinal. And who ever heard of pickled rat-tail root? I am no healer, but even I know that a rat is an animal and vegetables are the things with roots. Whatever the stupid thing is, it does not sound therapeutic!
Perhaps the author of this "remedy" was a simpleton or deranged. And why can't they keep their medicines where they ply their trade, rather than spread all over the most hazardous and inaccessible locations in the continent.
I suspect this is all an elaborate prank. If we do manage to put the damn concoction together I suspect it will turn out not to cure blackscour but incontinence in minor celestial beings.
As the fire disappears from Dolok's hands, "Well, I would threaten the woods with burning them all to pelenų but then I would probably be at war with the Consortium as well. That combination may be a little more than I can handle at this time."