Kardin listened, and then with a sigh he got to his feet. "Aye lass, ye be right. The job must be done and there be nay point whining about it. Just a lapse from me." He looked at the tiefling with increased respect, for she had her priorities straight and was willing to see them through. He motioned towards the door. "A good idea on meeting the others. Let's see if the preparations be finished, and if nay, what else needs doing."
"Master Herrod" - Terion begins thoughtfully, taking in the old man's words and the weight of the decision before them - "I understand your confidence in Dawn's abilities, and your desire for her to gain experience is admirable. However, my concerns about her safety remain"
He pauses, turning to Boram with a nod before continuing - "But your proposal to retrieve Aunt Agnes and bring her back safely to your care is a reasonable one. Not only would it provide Dawn with a secure environment to develop her skills, but it would also serve the community by ensuring you receive the healing you need"
Terion's gaze returns to Herrod, his tone earnest - "We can undertake this task. If we succeed and bring Aunt Agnes back safely, then we can discuss the next steps regarding Dawn"
He glances at Boram and Elmo, seeking their agreement - "Do we have an agreement?"
Terion pauses for a moment to make sure Herrod understands their plan - "We'll make sure she's safe. For now, we'll focus on bringing back your healer"
He then looks at Boram and Elmo, gesturing towards the tavern - "Let's head back and get the others"
Terion gives Herrod a final nod - "We’ll be back soon. Thanks for trusting us"
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" Also, the Romantic tales of Lady Silver. That I have read 3 times cover to cover. Sadly my copy is well falling apart" she blushed a bit having spoken one of the few well know illicit works about the mysterious Lady Silver an Elf and her many lovers, be them man, woman, or somethinf else entirely.
After that she nods." Yes lets get going. I believe we can meet up and head out. I'm Eager ro see what tales of our own we can write about!" she says standing and offer her hand to Herala. Before you all depart.
As they depart towards the agreed meeting place they had made with Elmo and the others, Herala did think of a few things to ask the new addition when she met with her. She was not blind that she would turn a follower of the old ways to hers, and would not try, but she was a bit curious on her healing methods. Did they differ? She would even mutter slightly to herself about different theories of how the both magic energies would work together, or even separately. It was completely unknown to her, but there was to be some research done, at least she would think so.
" Do you think she reads books?" Was really all she did ask Freya and Jairdan as they walked.
Terion nods at Boram’s encouragement and steps forward to address the group.
"Alright everyone, here’s the plan" - he says, his voice steady and pragmatic. "We’ve agreed to help bring back Aunt Agnes, the healer, but I suggest we handle the bandits first. It makes more sense to take care of the immediate threat before fetching Agnes. We’ll get the bandits, then on our way back, we’ll bring Agnes to Hommlet"
He looks around at the group to make sure everyone is following.
"This way, we deal with the danger first and then ensure the healer’s safety without rushing things. It’s a bit more efficient, and we’re not running back and forth. Any objections or thoughts on this?"
Terion waits, ready to hear any feedback or alternative suggestions from the group.
" I thought we were going to take her with us, but... but I also have no reason to put her in danger. I am fine with her coming with us for later issues, not the current one. Let us be on our way, before the bandits take anymore people from our homes. Or adopted homes." Herala was in agreement, as Terion knew the pathing better than she did, and she had no reason to object to the better thought out plan. She did rub at her horns though, as something seemed to bother her about some old woman being alone in the woods, almost like it was some horrible image of her own future, if things went bad on this adventure and she lived. Why would no one have moved the woman in if she was so feeble?
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Elmo nods as he looks at those around.
" Ill get you to the moar house." He says as he hefts his pack and waits for a signal to go.
Freya shifts as she puts on her helmet and speaks. " Well have to wait on wether she reads or not. For know we'll have to traverse the thickets to the forest. Once there the Bandits await" she pulls her cleaver and readies for the journey.
There was a lot to check and double-check, but the most important thing for Jairdan was the notes that had been taken on the terrain and the creatures. Those were kept close in a leather satchel— not that they had not been read several times when there was a spare moment. As they were making ready to leave, the awareness of what they knew and did not know was acute, and they tried to take their cues from the more experienced individuals.
"Depending on the length, I can get up early and watch the last part. I just need 8 hours, and I can see in the dark. Remember that time you swore I was sneaking out? I was, but without needing a light you never could see me to catch me."
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Elmo sits with Terion the Hero of Hommlet. The drunk seems to fight nodding off. As he sits thier a person in thick mail and helm sit sdoen beside him and begins to unpack its satchel of food.
Another similarly dressed does the same. On anorher log by the fire. He too unpacks. It is stange, but another joins.
Terion sat with Elmo, the fire crackling between them. Noticing Elmo fighting sleep, Terion nudged him gently.
"Stay awake, Elmo. We need sharp eyes tonight," he said with a small smile. As the strangers joined them, Terion’s hand instinctively moved to his weapon and he stood up, but he kept his tone calm.
"Evening. What brings you out here?" he asked, trying to gauge whether they were friend or foe. He kept a watchful eye on their movements, ready to signal the others if needed.
Sound asleep, as it was not his watch, Kardin was blissfully unaware that their camp had been invaded by armed men. Fortunately, it did not seem that they had ill intentions in mind, as evidenced by the fact that the dwarf's throat was yet uncut.
Terion glanced at Elmo, then back at the armored figures. Their breathy voices and sudden appearance set him on edge.
"Rest and eat, sure," Terion replied cautiously, "but where did you come from?" He kept his hand close to his weapon, eyes scanning for any signs that these figures might not be what they seemed.
"Elmo, keep your axe handy," he whispered, trying to be discreet. "We might be dealing with something more than just weary travelers."
Settled into their bedroll, Jairdan had thought sleep would be impossible with everything that they were undertaking weighing on their mind. Settling in and down proved to be awkward, though the quiet scribe was very obviously taking mental notes as they made camp. The fatigue of the day proved that concern needless as they were asleep within seconds of settling in, their transition into dreaming so quickly that they would swear that they were still awake.
Terion's grip tightened on his weapon as he processed the soldier's words. The mention of Emiry Meadows, the battle, and the cult sent a shiver down his spine. He remembered hearing about the final battle between the cult and the forces of good.
"Emiry Meadows," he repeated, nodding slowly. "I've heard of it. The site of the last stand against the cult." He glanced at the translucent features of the soldier. "Are you... spirits of the soldiers who fought there?"
He kept his voice calm and steady, but his eyes darted to Elmo and then to the rest of the sleeping group. "What brings you here, to our camp? Is there something you need from us?" He hoped for a peaceful resolution but was ready for anything.
As subtly as possible, he tried to rouse Herala, nudging her with his foot.
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"Last Battle? Spirits? We Eat, then fight" It says pointing to the deeper fields. Where the Smooth Stone rests and a Hill Giant resides.
" Glory,gold,victory" it says enthusiastically as it begins to eat. The food is a tin of rotting food that just falls through the aemor, that seems made of shadow.It also seems real.
Elmo looks over." I think the armor is partially real" he says touching the mail and it resisted.
Herala was sleeping pretty deep and struggled to watch up as Terion nudged at her. She woke up a bit tired, unsure what was going on and fumbled around for her glasses, as strange shapes were around the fire and Terion and Elmo for that matter. She squints but while searching for her glasses calls out, as there was not a issue she saw, " Hello there friends, are... are we expecting you? Please give me a moment to dress, is there something we can help you with?"
Herala was not sure these were bandits given there was no combat and she had been awoken not by violence but foot nudging. After a bit she put her glasses on, but that only confused her more as Elmo was able to somewhat touch the men, but she was positive she was also looking through them. Perhaps spirits, but she knew not of any spirits that haunted the area, but that did not mean anything, outside of perhaps they were not harmful spirits.
"Can we warm your food up perhaps? Tell me a bit of what you are doing here, perhaps we can help?" She tries to appear peaceful, which outside of her dagger and underclothing, the priestess did not seem armed, unless her horns would be considered a weapon, given she had her hair down.
As the apparition is engaging with Herala, Terion rouses his remaining companions.
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About four of the apparitions grace your camp. Three are clearly soldiers, one is standing and turned away from you. This one is different. Its clothes less regimented. Ghostly hair flows to some ethereal wind.
The others all hold out tins of rotting food. At the offer of it getting heated.As they do they remove helmets showing one with a nice kept beard, another was a woman.
Herela would take their food, and would help them to heat it. She seems surprised by this behavior, but not every spirit was evil it seemed, and without them harming them, there was nothing else.to be done. And they did not seem to be troubled by her appearance either, so perhaps they were people who they could help.
After making sure their food was heated, even if it was rotten and smelled awful, Herala would return it to each one, saying ""May the Goddess bless you, and guide you back home to your family safely and securely, with much glory. Please, tell us more of your story. I was not aware of any cult or fighting around here. Do you need help?"
Blinking awake with the shake from Terion, the surroundings prevent Jairdan from saying anything, and their eyes go wide at seeing their guests. The lack of hostility breaking out prevents any panic, but the nature of their guests were no guarantee of their permanence. Sitting up, their hands go to their nearby pack, pulling out the book of lore and one of the sheets of parchment. The calligrapher's kit was within reach as they prepared to try to capture this moment on paper. "Detagé", could be heard from them as an image was cast onto the parchment, quill and ink chasing the lines of the image.
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Terion observed the scene with a mixture of wariness and curiosity. Seeing his companions handle the situation with such calmness and cooperation was reassuring. He noticed Herala heating the food and offering it back to the apparitions with respect, while Boram nervously assisted her. Jairdan was attempting to sketch the moment, albeit with some difficulty.
He took a step back, his hand still close to his weapon but not gripping it tightly. He kept a close eye on the figure standing apart, the one with the flowing hair, watching for any signs of aggression.
"Let's hear their story," he said quietly to his companions. "If they have unfinished business, maybe we can help. But stay alert." He then addressed the apparitions more directly.
"We honor your presence here," Terion said, his voice steady. "Please, tell us more about the battle you fought and the cult you faced. Is there something we can do to aid you now?"
He hoped this would reinforce Herala's approach, show respect and invite the spirits to share their story, providing both his group and the apparitions with the answers they sought.
Kardin groggily woke up and saw that they were not alone. He reached for his axe, stopping when he realized that his comrades did not seem to see the newcomers as being hostile. Still, he regarded them with distrust.
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" We March, not, fought, yet" one says.
" Give it up lass, they can never fulfil thier oaths" comes a voice from the figure on the perimeter. As he does he turns.
The apparition is a man whose head seems at any moment to fall backwords ofd his head. A deep gash at the throat is clear. His face is also holding deep furroughs leadinf to no nose, no lips, a right eye dangling from its shocket. Small fungus grows here and there. His sromach lay open and its content too seems to dangle and ooze out. Lastly his chest holds a deep cross like hole. His Tabard however clearly shows the shield of Green and Black with a Silver Stag rearinf up. This man unlike the others has seen battle.
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Terion's eyes widened as the figure turned to reveal its gruesome state. Despite the shock, he managed to keep his composure, though the sight was enough to unsettle even the bravest.
"Steady, Boram," Terion said softly, trying to offer some comfort to his companion. He turned his attention back to the apparition, his mind racing to understand the situation.
"March, but not fought yet," Terion echoed, trying to make sense of the spirit's words. He glanced at the shield emblem, recognizing the silver stag, but any further historical knowledge eluded him.
"Tell us more about your oath," Terion urged the wounded spirit. "What is it that you couldn't fulfill? Maybe we can help you find peace."
Despite the horrors before him, Terion's focus remained on uncovering the story of these spirits and finding a way to aid them. He hoped that understanding their unfinished business might guide them to a solution and help the restless spirits find their way.
Focused on their rendition of the scene in front of them, the new voice was a bit much for how wound up they were, having been trying to not react like a fool from one of the stories. A squeak came as they jumped, the quill on the parchment flicking ink all across it and thoroughtly marring it. The pout changed to a look of horror and dinner made its return, splashing across the ground at the sight of the speaker.
It was a good few seconds before they could recompose themselves with coughs, wiping their mouth shakily before making a soft noise of disgust. "Gląnna." The mess they had made was reflexively banished with another word and gesture, before remembering their company and looking to them with wide eyes.
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