"Is there a restore eyebrows spell?" Nedyr smiles. "Let me know what shift you folks want me to take." Nedyr says liking the camp location just fine.
Markov lets out a sigh as he hears Jhod's cry of alarm. "Careful Jhod, we must have forgot. When we traveled through this area, there was two pranksters. One being a faerie dragon named Perlivash, and a grig named Tyg-Titter-Tut." He will go assist Jhod with preparing the campfire and making sure the general layout of the campsite is secure.
Looking up once the camp is set, he nods. "Most likely the same as before." He looks at them. "Um... Since you are both able to use magic, is there a time you want to keep watch? I got a feeling Nedyr and I will have to do a two hour shift each in the middle of the night."
He then turns back to Nedyr. "Hey, I have an idea. Lets do that Rock-Paper-Shears thing to decide who takes watch after the first one."
"Why not?" *He makes a gesture once twice three times and comes up with...*
Markov grumbles a bit, then resigned himself to the fate. "Well, you won. Which shift do you want?"
Orrik says, "I will take either the first or last watch, whichever is darker. I see well in the dark, thanks to my heritage as a race that came up from the Darklands."
"I'll take middle then, give you and Orrik the book ends." He grins.
Nedyr stretches in the morning, and smiles the next day at the ease of the travel, "Mmm, rockier ground, we might be going into goat herding country."
"Blasted Rocks." Markov exclaimed. Hearing Nedyr's remark, he nods in agreement. Yeah. I agree with you on that! This place is rough on my rear riding Snow. And I can't help but to feel that it is rough on her as well."
Following where Nedyr is looking, Markov can't help but the notice the mound. "Hey... Nedyr, you see that? Looks like it is some sort of old Homestead?... No, it looks more like a cairn site." He dismounts and looks around. "Yeah... I think that is what it is. A unmarked grave. Maybe he was buried with something interesting?" He smirks.
"Hmmm, interesting observations, gentlemen," Mahdrig says as she also dismounts and studies the area, plucking some berries and placing them in a pocket.
"Do you think Svetly would like some berries to craft a jam, or better yet a wine?"
The druid turns to Markov, nodding at his and Nedyr's observations.
"Could be. I'd be interested to see what secrets lie behind this berry patch. Any of you more familiar than I with this neck of the woods? I've not ventured this far into the grasslands before."
"I'll check out and uhm, pay my respects," He says, and lowers off his horse to check out the cairn carefully.
"Just a cairn, want me to upturn some rocks? Mixed feeling about disturbing the dead. On one hand, its not my culture and might have some goodies, on the other... well, Ancient barbarian burial grounds sound like a ghost story waiting to happen." He asks the others
Walking over next to the cairn to get a better look at it. He sighs as he Nedyr's remark. "Ghost stories are of Ustalav. And we are clearly not in those haunted lands, thankfully. If ya want, I'll stick my nose into it first." He looks around the cairn, trying to see if it is just a simple rock burial, or something else.
Orrik ponders, wondering what he knows about this area of the woods. He also looks closely at the burial mound to see if there's any indication as to the faith tradition of the person who built it. He doesn't believe that likely, but he looks anyway.
Orrik says, "Barbarians often bury their dead with items. Although I do hesitate to disturb the cairn, eventually somebody else will if we do not. I suggest that we take a look, and see what's there."
"I suppose if you put it that way," he has to agree with the logic of Orrik, and starts to remove stones along side Markov, "But if some undead horror lunges out and bites my nose off I get to tell you 'I told you so'"
"Interesting," Orrik says. "I wonder if this is some noble house's sigil? I don't recognize it."
He will cast detect magic to see if the ring is magic, taking 10 on Spellcraft for a result of 19.
"Odd that a ring of wood could survive without deterioration," Nedyr mutters.
"It's a nice looking ring though." Markov says, not knowing the properties of the ring yet.
"It has survived because it's magic," Orrik says. "It has an enchantment on it that will bolster your skill with climbing, jumping, and swimming. This seems rather a nice item; one of us should wear it as we explore the forest and rivers around here. I am probably not the one who would benefit most. Or, rather, I probably would benefit most, as I am not terribly skilled in those sorts of things. However, when it comes to these sorts of athletic feats, we will be calling on one of the others of you to perform them, and so the ring might be better used by somebody other than myself."
"Mmm, well, I do have these boots already, I don't want to seem a greedy grabber " He winks.
"You keep the ring, good scholar. We can't have you drowning or falling from a tree, think of the Elven ruins you'd miss with such an untimely demise!" Mahdrig says, barely able to suppress a giggle, her eyes reflecting her off-center sense of humor.
She regards the remains of the barbarian. "Yes, let this warrior return to Nature. His soul has been given to the gods, yes, yes. But let us not turn over every pile of rocks we find, unless they are crowned by berries. This warrior must have had a blessed life, to give us berries so sweet!"
She whistles a low and sweet tune as she gathers as many berries as she can into various pouches and containers, pauses and mutters a low prayer at the barbarian's corpse.
"Let's make a note of this in the maps and like." Nedyr suggests
"Wait, tiger lord markings and the like... The Rostlanders forced them back to the ease... long ago I think, but once... yes, I suppose they would have been in this area."
"Have we explored the south?"
The half elf looks around as they travel, taking it all in
Markov keeps his eyes open, but he happens to scrunch his face when his mount Snow farts. "Ah... Damn it Snow. Try doing that down wind!"