The wind is coming out of the south, there is a dampness to it, and the slightest hint of salt from the ocean that is miles upon miles away. There aren't any clouds in the sky right now, but if you were forced to guess you think there may be some rain sometime in the week. It's hard to say for sure, it could veer east or west of you. You will know better over the next couple of days.
While you verbally spar back and forth with Fenlin in a jovial manner you keep your eyes open for gamesign. The conversation is fun though, and takes most of your attention. You see some tracks on the road of course, but it is hard to tell how old they are without getting a closer look. You don't see any live sign of game in the area, but with the wind at your back your scent is getting to them before you do, so they are probably well hidden by the time you arrive.
The day's travel passes without incident. You make good progress thanks to the weather and the well-traveled nature of the road. You have been on the road for about 9 hours, having taken an hour for lunch and to rest the horse, when the sun begins to head down towards the horizon. You probably have about an hour of good sunlight left before it starts going into dusk, twilight, and then full night.
"There may be rain in our future, but I doubt anytime soon. The sun is starting to descend. I think we should press on as long as we can. I am not worried about the darkness too much. I will summon the light when needed."
"May I suggest that the horse will need light as he travels so as not to step in a rut or something. Make the best use of traveling until the sun sets and set camp under your conjured light?"
You travel for about another hour or so when you begin to hear the sound of flowing water. Within another 5 minutes you come across a slowly moving river traversed by a bridge at the path you are travelling.
You cross the river with no problem and as you continue on Raivin looks over his shoulder.
You imagine you won't find a better natural campsite before the sun fully sets and you begin travelling in the dark. It does not seem your fellow party members have noticed this spot behind the trees, do you want to alert them or keep traveling?
Unaware of what Raiven may have noticed, Sarrissa volunteers "we should rest here. We can fill our skins, wash up, and maybe catch a few fish if the river is willing to share. The bridge also makes a good choke point too."
"Fine by me. If we let the horse drink here, that's longer our barrels will last.
Agreed. We're gonna sleep under that rock. Cover from both ways.
Detaching the horse from the wagon and setting up camp takes a little longer than expected, by the time you are done the last sliver of the orange setting sun can just be seen bidding it's evening farewell at the horizon. Fenlin takes the horse over to the water, where he knickers slightly, letting the water lick over his ankles while he looks upstream then down. Finally he bows his head and takes what seems like a good 30 seconds or so take long, deep gulps from the stream.
He then returns with Fenlin to the campsite, allowing his guides to be lashed to a nearby tree, where he supplements his evening repast with the long prairie grass that is offered nearby.
Sarrissa scours the area near the campsite and manages to find a wild berry shrub that provides some sustenance for the evening. She also digs up the roots of some carrots she comes across near the riverside. She finds a game trace that looks somewhat recently used, and so sets a snare. With some luck there may be rabbit for breakfast.
As the evening comes to a close Aran offers to take first watch,once again borrowing Sarrissa's bow. The rest of the party beds down for an evening's rest.
Raivin lays down and rests until his shift arrives. His head is killing him and he never bathes at night anyway.
A fire might be practical, but not needed with nothing to cook. Fen was planning on sleeping under the wagon in case it rains.
Sarrissa uses her innate magic to summon light as she works. She fills her waterskin, tops off of the barrel of water and washes some of her clothes with very little modesty. She uses the carrots and berries to supplement her trail rations and shares both with the others, even offering the horse a few carrots.
When its time for her watch, she sits on the cart for a higher vantage point.
Aran, your watch passes with only one incident of note. About an hour into your watch you see a wagon traveling south on the road. It is close to full dark, but by the moonlight you are able to make out the silhouette of a tall wagon with 4 adult-sized humanoids walking around it.
They stop for a few minutes when they are about 50' away from your campsite and the fire. Those walking around the wagon seem to come together and converse, one pointing in the direction of your campsite. Then they all load into the wagon together, and with a crack of whips they attempt to rush past you, hugging the far side of the road as if to discourage engagement.
From the distance in the dark you have trouble making out any details, but a torch affixed to the front of the wagon does give some light to see by and you are able to catch a small view of the driver. He is swathed from head to toe in a loose garment, despite the relative warmth of the evening.
Unless you do something to stop them it looks like they are intent on getting past you quickly and moving on their way.
The darkness makes it difficult to see anything more in particular about this passing party. Your intuition tells you that they are more scared of you than you are of them. You do not sense any disemblement about the way they are trying to get past you, they seem to want to be left alone.
Most of the reasons you can think of that a group of travelers would risk traveling so late and not be interested in interacting with others do not seem very righteous. Without any other evidence your guess would be smugglers that have decided that it isn't worth the effort to try to confront potential witnesses and silence them. That is just a guess though, it is possible that they have altruistic motives, you just don't think it is as likely.
The remainder of your watch passes without incident, and the rest of the night is quiet as well. Everyone else's watches are uneventful.
Having received a full night's rest, anyone that was not at full hitpoints heals 2 hp. Anyone that went to sleep at full hitpoints gains 1 temporary hitpoint for having a full and restful night.
I will let you guys describe any morning oblations or preparations before you hit the road.
Fenlin spends the morning checking his pack and preparing his extracts for the day. After that is done, he leafs through well worn almanacs of different regions reviewing facts and trivia.
In the morning, Sarrissa stretches a bit before packing up her gear and loading it on the cart. "I'll be back soon. Gonna check the snare" she says as she makes her way to check the game trail. After preparing breakfast, she sits down and begins to write in her journal. She doesn't spend long writing. Instead she rises and begins to ready herself and the horse for travel.
Raivin rolls over, heads to the river to bathe after checking to make sure everything is safe.
After that he breaks his camp gear and gets ready to go.
Sarrissa encountered a wild rabbit!
The camp is broken without too much fanfare and the team sets out north again. Aran, you rejoin the road you notice the wagon ruts from the group from last night. You mentioned it to Fenlin when he relieved you from watch, but you don't know if he has told anyone else or if it is worth discussing since they were traveling in the other direction.
It is about 3 hours into your march and you are beginning to think about taking a break when you see a wagon pulled over to the side of the road ahead. A little ways away from the road you also see the smoke of a camp fire rising into the sky. Just a wisp really, probably a fire that has already dead and is well on it's way to being cold.
Sarrissa knew she had snared something before it even came into view. A hunter always knew. That moment before the arrow fled from the hand, that instant of stillness, that calm before the storm.
She approached the rabbit quickly, scooping it up and breaking it's neck with a practiced hand. She didn't enjoy killing the rabbit. She didn't enjoy killing in general. It was just a part of life, of the hunter's life. It was survival. She quickly tied the rabbit to her belt and headed back to camp.
"I did not, but I thought you said that one was travelling in the other direction, heading back toward town."
Sarrissa, while your party is still about 100 feet down the road you notice something odd. There is a dark mound off the road just in front of the wagon. As you squint to get a better look you realize it is a horse lying on it's side, the lead running up into a tree nearby where it was tied off.
You watch for a few moments. The horse is very still. It doesn't seem natural.
You guys are about 80 feet away now. At 50 feet Fenlin and Aran will notice the horse on their own. Raivin, you are not looking in that direction and will not notice it until someone calls it out to you or you are right on top of it.
You will be passing the wagon in a few moments unless you do something else.
"Their horse appears to be dead...and tied to the tree. Expect the worst. Aran, catch" she says as she tosses him her bow and begins to loosen her quiver. She tightens her grip on her spear as she calls out "ho there. Nice weather eh? Good day for traveling..."
As he draws his sword, Fenlin asks Aran,"Perhaps your friends heading South saw this last night?"
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With a sheepish smile, Aran nods at Fenlin. "Of course you're right. This is my first adventure out of the monastery so forgive my jumpiness."
"Speaking of jumpiness, you may be right Sarrissa," he says as he catches the bow. "Something doesn't seem right here. I'll stay here with the horse and cart since I can range any threats from here."
Aran readies the bow and keeps a sharp eye out for any threats.
Raivin rubs the goose egg coming out of his temple and wanders over silently, ax drawn.
Sarrissa, there is no response to your hail. No one seems to be around.
Raivin, as you get closer you see that the horse is indeed dead. Gaunt ribs show on its sides and there are flecks of froth around his nose and mouth, tinted ever so slightly green. Flies flit around the corpse, nature taking it's course.
Aran, standing a distance back you feel a moment of true zen. Your senses stretch outwards in a way that you have not felt before. The air is still, muggy. There is a slight greyness to the sky to the southeast, perhaps that storm that Sarissa spoke of yesterday is on it's way. You see a part in the hedge along the side of the road, where someone pushed through to head back towards the campfire that you assume is in the distance based on the wisp of smoke drifting into the sky. You would guess that the fire is about 100 to 150' back from the road, more than a normal traveler would set their camp. It's odd that no one is here watching the wagon.
The wagonbed is facing away from you, but from your vantage point you can see through the canvas slightly...making out what looks like a wooden crate or chest.
You all get the definite sense that something is not right here.
Sarrissa walks along Raivin as they approach the dead horse and wagon. She searches the area and looks for any tracks before looking inside the wagon.
Afterwards, she heads back to the cart before moving off towards the camp site.
Raivin stays nearer the wagon. He's not a sneaky one and doesn't want to risk alerting the possible ambushers.
Fen whispers to his companions,"We are looking for a missing person, we have to check all of this out. Perhaps he is nearby."
He then proceeds to loop around the other side, opposite Sarrissa and Raivin.
Aran, from your vantage point you can see over the hedges, to the west there are open plains lands, with a copse of trees about 60 - 75' off. The smoke is rising from within or beyond those trees. You do not see anything on the plains themselves. To the east it looks empty as well, there is a patch of granite flats a ways off, and another copse of trees, but you do not see any other travelers nearby.
Fenlin, as you approach the horse and wagon you accidentally kick a small stone lying in your path. It clatters down the trail, making a small ruckus in the still morning air, before coming to rest against the dead horse. There is no movement from within the wagon, despite the noise.
Taking a deep breath you pick up a slight fecal smell. The wind turns momentarily to out of the north, and it become stronger. It is coming from either the horse or the wagon. The wind turns back to the south and the smell subsides. Off in the distance you can hear thunder. Sarrissa may have said rain tomorrow, but you would swear that it will be by tonight at the latest.
Sarrissa nods in agreement with Aran and moves towards the hedge to investigate the camp site. Her spear gripped tightly in both hands, she moved slowly and quietly.
Raivin watches Sarissa go, ready to sprint down anything that appears to threaten her.
Fen creeps up closer to take a better look and tries to determine the cause of death.
Fenlin: As you creep closer you take a look at the horse. To your untrained eye the only thing you can say for sure is that it is dead. And...bloated. The stomach area in particular is more round that your knowledge of the natural world would tell you is normal. As far as how long the horse has been dead you couldn't say for sure. You do not see any insects buzzing around though. That normally starts pretty quickly after death, right?
Sarrissa: With a stillness and caution that comes natural to a hunter you work your way to the part in the hedge and peer through. To the west beyond the hedge is open plains lands, with a copse of trees about 60 - 75' off. The smoke is rising from within or beyond those trees. You do not see anyone between you and the trees, and there is very little cover for anyone to be hiding in.
As you sit quietly and listen for a moment a moan and cough emmenate from the back of the covered wagon that the dead horse is tied to. You were so convinced that you were alone when no one responded to Fenlin earlier, that the sudden noise startles you to alertness and you tighten the grip on your spear.
Peering deeper into the wagon, from your vantage point you can see the barrels that Aran mentioned before, as well as some kind of makeshift cot. There looks to be someone laying down in the wagon. With another groan the body shifts slightly before falling still again.
Fen moves to the 'north' end of the wagon. Holding his blade before him, he pulls back part of the canvas to take a look inside.
Fenlin: As you quietly part the canvas a beam of light shines into the interior of the wagon. You are now able to examine it more clearly. You see inside two barrels. There are no labels on them that you can see, so you would guess they contain supplies rather than trade goods.
On the deck of the wagon there is a rambled mess of dry rations, clothing, and refuse. The smell hits your nose. It is not very pleasant.
The vague shape of a small person shifts under a blanket on the cot. There is another cough. "Papa...? Papa is that you? You were gone so long. Why is your lantern so bright...?" A small child slowly sits up on the cot, quaking slightly as if the strain is to much for her overworked muscles. Her flaxen hair hangs limp and damp with the sweat of a fever. Her eyes look glazed, she does not seem to recognize that you are not the 'papa' that she is calling to.
Uh oh...this is not good, not at all.
"Shh little one. It's okay," Fenlin says as soothingly as he can. He sheathes his sword and flags the others before moving into the wagon. He places a comforting hand on her forehead, looking for sign of injury or infection.
This is exactly what I meant by cats playing chess!! What the devil is going on?