With the watches sorted and everyone's roles clearly established, you settle in for the night. Hopefully, tomorrow will be much less eventful than today...
It isn't long after Zenebe sets the first watch that everyone else in the party is able to settle in for the night. Whether ill-at-ease with the events of the day or willing to accept whatever hand the fates have dealt you, it's becoming abundantly clear to all of you the world that you once knew is gone, reclaimed in some way by the forces of the earth itself.
While the majority of you make attempts at fitful sleep, Zenebe peers into the darkness...
If it had been anyone else on first watch, they likely wouldn't have noticed the strangely deeper darkness clinging to the bases of the towering trees around your campsite. Between the chirps of insects in the branches overhead and the disgruntled croaks of the toads in the underbrush, you catch little movements here and there that seem... off.
You're not alone in these woods, and it's definitely not another grotmag paying you a visit.
Zenebe, what do you do?
After a moment of watching the odd shadow patterns, the bard could doubt his eyes no longer; he drew his rapier and cast light upon it.
"Show yourself if you mean us no ill will!"
The flash of light rips through the darkness surrounding the encampment, putting the dying embers of your meager campfire to shame. As the shadows of the night are cast away, you can clearly see the forms of nearly a dozen humanoids watching you from the treeline, and when you begin shouting, those armed with bows quickly draw and sight in on you.
From behind one of the trees, you hear a deep voice call out, "That depends on your intentions, half-elf! Why have you come to our lands? Are you servants of the Rift? Speak true, or face the wrath of our skilled hunters!"
"I am a servant of Penotas Umbranse, Upholder of Shadow and Lord of the Dark." says Deepshadow with a regal-looking bow.
"Perhaps we can speak like civilized beings? While it is likely that you'll kill us, it won't be before we kill half of you or more, so hostilities do not favor either side right now. Come down here and let us speak as equals."
"We are no damned servants of The Rift!" The dwarf scion spat. "I'd like nothing better than to see Rift creature head's on pikes!"
Uarach calls out in Galshan, ”A bheil thu Galshan? Ma tha, tha sinn càirdeach, clann eile an fhiadhaich.”
Are you Galshan? If so, we are kin, fellow children of the wild.
Tel rouses from his sleep to see this scene playing out in front of him. a moment of worry flickers across his face, but it is immediately replaced with a gentle smile.
"My companions speak true. We have just come from what should have been a great battle between us and the creatures of the rift. Unfortunately, we are all that is left of the army that was gathered to go up against the rift. We were following a trail we suspected might lead us to other survivors, but it vanished, so we made camp. I hope this is an acceptable explanation. Are there any further questions for us before you step from the shadows?"
Between the faint pops of the meager logs on the fire and the incessant chirps of nocturnal insects, each of you can pick out traces of hushed speech. This persists for the better part of a minute until, at long last, a few of the figures step forward. Most of the ones you can see, including those hanging back with bows drawn, appear to be little more than farmers, their dirt-stained clothing simple and unadorned.
The one you could reasonably call their leader carefully moves to the front and raises an arm to keep the rest at bay for the time being. "You were the soldiers who crossed to the south some days ago, then? I remember your passing." He stands at least a head taller than the rest of his group, his muscles thick and knotted from years of manual labor. "I am Cardiff," he continues, "and these survivors are in my care."
He takes a moment to incline his head toward Uarach, a sure sign of respect. "I know not how to speak the tongue of your people, but I recognize it. My hearth is yours, outlander."
Another gesture, and the bowmen let their strings go slack, taking their sights off the party. "So, what do you call yourselves?"
"Soldiers, as you have spoken." Zenebe gave a simple response to a simple question to buy time for the others. Without knowing his background, it might not be wise to disclose our bellicose purpose.
"You are a fortunate one, Cardiff, for we have little mastery of these surroundings. Our travel is one of happenstance, and we wonder as to the well-being of many people we'd expect to find in these parts. The survivors are in your care, but are you not one of the survivors yourself?"
"Also, do you know if there are any other survivors from the army that we marched with?"
Uarach smiles and returns with the traditional response, ”Then I will fight in its defence.” He pauses for a moment before saying, ”I am Uarach, of the southern Galshan. Well met, Cardiff.”
Another gesture, and the bowmen let their strings go slack, taking their sights off the party. "So, what do you call yourselves?"
"We have no name, herr woodsman", answered the dwarf with a nod, "But my name is Thurmoud Lighthammer of Clan Lighthammer."
"A matter of phrasing, but that is true," Cardiff replies to Zenebe. "Many of us come from farmland to the east. Our dwellings were ruined by the Riftspawn, so we made a new home for ourselves in this forest. Then the blast... well, you know the rest."
He turns to Deepshadow and shakes his head, his features falling into a frown. "None have crossed our path. Our hosts only alerted us to your presence, and no others'."
As greetings are exchanged, a gasp is heard from the trees. A young half-dwarf emerges into the light with a mace on his hip, his face glowing with awe... or maybe it's just the campfire. "Clan Lighthammer?! Reamatu's ashen apron, I never thought I'd meet one of you in person! My father told me all about you!"
Cardiff just sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Forgive Estvic there. He can be... excitable."
"Tellian Liffern. You can call me Tel though. It's a pleasure to meet you, despite the current circumstances."
Thurmoud walks up to the half-dwarf and shakes the adolescent's hand with his signet ring hand. "Greetings, Estvic. It is good to see another dwarf after all the devastation we've seen. How long have you been on the surface? Are there any more dwarves among your number?"
Perhpas we should have a name, thought Zenebe. These people seem nice enough, but with the strangeness recently, one cannot be too cautious.
He waited for the dwarves to finish their exchange.
"That blast you mentioned - exactly how far did it reach, and how deep does its damage go? I confess my ignorance in the matter, and we've been eking-out the time since."
Estvic positively beams at being addressed by someone who is clearly a hero of his. "Ever since I was a child, we've called the surface our home. My father is here, and I believe he would be thrilled to make your acquaintance! ...well, not 'here', but back at our... temporary home. I have yet to meet any more rufalg, but I heard that few venture up to the surface lands in these times."
Meanwhile, Cardiff says to Zenebe, "We believe it covered the entire region, from the forest all the way to the Enscorn Plains to the north. It is exceptionally strange, but the effects have been... well, inconsistent. Certain areas are completely untouched, while others were devastated beyond repair - mostly our dwellings and structures, things made by hand. Some of our number disappeared into the light, and we cannot help but fear for their safety." He lowers his voice before adding, "Hearing that your company suffered a similar fate does not bode well. I am loathe to think of how the others will react."
Finally, he surveys your weary faces and seems to arrive at a conclusion. "We have kept you up late enough. To verify our safety and yours, we will keep our own watch some distance away so that you have some privacy. Let us speak more of these matters in the morning."
Tellian takes a deep bow, "Thank you for your kindness. I look forward to a more complete conversation in the morning. If you will excuse me, I'll take my leave." Tel then returns to his bedroll to try to get as much rest as he can before his watch.
Estvic positively beams at being addressed by someone who is clearly a hero of his. "Ever since I was a child, we've called the surface our home. My father is here, and I believe he would be thrilled to make your acquaintance! ...well, not 'here', but back at our... temporary home. I have yet to meet any more rufalg, but I heard that few venture up to the surface lands in these times."
"We have kept you up late enough. To verify our safety and yours, we will keep our own watch some distance away so that you have some privacy. Let us speak more of these matters in the morning."
"I look forward to meeting your father, Estvic", Thurmoud said in an even manner, in hopes of calming the lad down. "As I have much to tell you. But get some rest, lad. We shall need our strength for the road ahead."
Zenebe bowed in kind as Cardiff left them.
Giving the others a look, the bard summarized his thoughts. "I don't think they mean us any harm, but for them to also be in the dark on this is troubling. We must find what's caused this shakeup - and see if it might happen again." He raised an eyebrow at Thurmoud. "Your people would do quite well if worked structures seem to be unscathed mots of the time. Perhaps it is the make of the building that offers sanctuary from this blight?"
Uarach shrugs, ”Let’s leave the metaphysical discussion for the morning, or at least I will. I’m going back to sleep, wake me up for my watch.”