"My friends, accept my apolgies for my tardyness" growled Ddraig, as he approached his comrades. "As I made my way here, I saw a young lady being accosted by a ruffian. It would seem that he went looking for trouble, and was surprised when I found him! I must say, her boundless gratitude surprised me!"
"I have read the proclamation outside, and have heard much from the townsfolk. It would appear that we may be pressed into service again. Why must my contemplation be interrupted so?"
"Aye. Boar hunt, seemingly our Ddraig."
There is some murmuring at the appearance of Ddraig. Obviously, he is an unusual sight in these parts.
"Well, if ye're set on it," Breen says, "I can show ye the trail."
"Reckon so."
Healaugh shoulders his hurdy-gurdy.
Breen directs you to the trail, which winds through the trees in a gloomy twilight; the leaves of the beechwoods are peculiarly dark and shady. Little sunlight reaches the forest floor. There are few birds or animals in evidence save one or two watchful crows that flap away noisily to the north as you pass below.
Ghadmyr looks at his surroundings intently.
Ghadmyr does not know the reason for the darkness of the trees and wood. It may be something sinister, or it may be just a particular type of beechtree native to the island.
He does however notice, when the group reaches the clearing (created by the toppling of a great tree, which now lies on its sidein the centre of the clearing).
The elf notes that at least a week has gone by since the fight that took place here, as some plants are crushed or broken but others have sprung up in their place. The signs are confused, but large boar prints exit the clearing to the northeast, crossing the brook before being lost. Ponies hoofprints come and go from the trail back to the lands of man, while larger horses entered at a gallop from the west and left at a walking pace, around the fallen tree trunk, and across the stream to the northwest.
"Grugach following boar, dost reckon, Ghadmyr?"
"On the contrary - it appears they left in different directions. The boar that way, to the northeast, and the grugach that way, to the northwest. It's as if they abandoned their hunt at this point.
"Since attempting to follow the trail that the boar has taken over the last week would be a fool's errand, perhaps we should find out what the elves in these parts know."
As if on cue, a hooded figure emerges from the trees where it had been concealed. He has an arrow notched on his bow, ready to fire. The figure addresses you in a gruff, low tone:
Elven
Macmorr idly scratches the back of his neck, coincidentally putting his hand near to where he can swiftly draw his axe on the charge.
"You understand what he just said?"
Ghadmyr appears unconcerned by the notched arrow.
Elven
"The white boar seen in this clearing is causing quite a stir among the humans. The youth it slew on this spot was the son of one of their chieftains. We would like to learn what you and yours know of the beast. I fear that the promise of a reward will bring the worst sort of humans here in large numbers in a short time, and they may not honor your lands or your people as we here do. I would like to avoid that confrontation and keep the peace in these lands.
"With your leave, may we enter your lands peacefully to learn the nature of the beast and to learn of the events that transpired here? And may we speak with whatsoever of your people as may know more of this white boar?"
Healaugh bows politely to the elf and listens attentively, following the intonation if not the words.
"Yeah, don't mind us - I'm sure you and your friend here are having a good old natter."
Healaugh stamps on Macmorr's huge foot. Discreetly.
The elf narrows his eyes, and further speech is forthcoming. His voice continues to be dark and low.
Elven
Macmoor
Macmoor realises that there are 5 other elves watching them from cover. Two more with the elf talking in a line of dense bushes to the north, and three others hiding behind the fallen beech in undergrowth.
Elven
<quietly>
"There's five more of them in the woods over there."
Without taking his eyes off of the elf with whom he has been speaking, Ghadmyr nods slightly to acknowledge Macmorr.
The elf nods slowly.
Elven
He and his fellows disappear into the woods.
Healaugh looks after the retreating figures and asks quietly, "Owt useful?"
Ghadmyr turns back to his companions and addresses them in the common tongue. "They are going to allow us entry, and are going to return with what I expect would be an escort. They are wary of strangers, however, so we must be mindful... And alert."
"Reet. Watchful tactful-like then. Happen I can remember grugach song to smooth way."
"Friend Healaugh, I believe that the sound of your hurdy-gurdy, though melodious, may disturb the forest and its inhabitants, with unfortunate consequences" whispered Ddraig.
"Perhaps silence is advantageous until such time as we have established a suitable rapport with our Elven brethren."
"And I hate the sound of hurdy-gurdy."
"Own loss that is and sad hearing."
"I am sure that your music will be appreciated at an opportune moment, friend Healaugh."
At the suggestion of the hurdy-gurdy, Ynyr opens his mouth to speak. But closes it gratefully when Ddraig does the work for him.
Ghadmyr looks around the site carefully examining trampled plants, the felled tree, and various tracks to look for any new clues as to the events that transpired here.
Ignoring the aspersions (spoken and unspoken) on his musical skills, Healaugh moves quietly about the area wondering if any magic has been at work here.
"Reckon summat's been breached here, Ghadmyr," he murmurs quietly to the druid.
Neither Ghadmyr nor Healaugh can ascertain anything more than has already been found about the site. Healaugh is as sure as sure can be that there is absolutely nothing magical here.
After about 20 minutes, the elves return.
In broken Common, the leader (who previously spoke with Ghadmyr) says to you all, "You - wear these." and proffers blindfolds. It is not a request.
He turns to Ghadmyr:
Elven
Elves stand by each of you, expectantly.
Ghadmyr turns to his companions. "They wish to take us to their leader, an elf by the name of Gain. They want us blindfolded and unarmed, however." Ghadmyr looks over his companions, wondering if there is going to be trouble.
"Secretive like. Fair doings. Be wanting weapons back mind."
Carefully Healaugh lays down his javelin and wand and puts on the proffered blindfold.
"Well, if they wanted to attack us, they'd have done it by now." Macmorr unstraps his axe and hands it over. "Careful - it's sharp."
Ghadmyr stows away his totem and lays his spear and bow on the ground, accepting the offered blindfold as well.
"I will gladly acquiesce to your gracious request, but would ask that you treat my longsword with care, as I would not wish for you to be injured by it," said Ddraig, handing over his sword and javelins, before reaching up and blindfolding himself.
The group give up their weapons and don their blindfolds willingly. They are then led through the woods, through water several times, spun around and generally confused and disoriented.
After bumping and tripping your way through the woods several times for half an hour, you are brought to a halt.
The elf in charge says to you:
Elven
Ghadmyr removes his blindfold before addressing the others in Common. "We can take the blindfolds off."
Healaugh does so and looks around with interest and some caution on his face.
Ddraig gently removed his blindfold, and surveyed the scene around him.
"Thank you for your patience, and for allowing us to enter your land."
"Well, this is nice. Where are we?"
Ddraig gently removed his blindfold, and surveyed the scene around him.
"Thank you for your patience, and for allowing us to enter your land."
Having taken off their blindfolds, the group can now see that another stream lies before them, and behind them a trail heads off southwest into the forest.
Your escort motions for you to cross the stream.
Several grugach tents made from coarse fabric are pitched on a level place across the stream. Elves come and go with deadwood for the cooking fires or carry braces of fowl or meat into the camp. Many are armed like your escort party. Overhead, crows perch on branches, cawing noisily at the activity below. Occasionally, an elf feeds a tidbit to a bird perched on his shoulder, or sends it off winging away on some errand into the forest.
A tall elf stands outside one of the larger tents in the southeast of the camp, speaking to what seems to be a giant tree shaped like a person! They are speaking together in a slow, sonorous manner. They both turn to regard you as you approach. Kraf (the leader of your escort) bows to the other elf and to the tree-giant before making his report (in Elven).
Nature check on chatty tree (1d20+9=23)
Muttered quietly to Ddraig and Ynyr
"Eee. Hopes that's no relation to singing tree of unpleasantness we met back a space." Bad memories of the last ambulant, audible tree he met come flooding back.
Healaugh
