I come in, ready to leave and sit down at the table where the gnome and the halfling are sitting. "Good morning. Are you ready? Have you seen the others?"
When Harlon storms off I look at Dalzig and ask "What's the matter with him?" before standing up and walking after him at a brisk pace. When I catch up I say "What's the problem, Master Happytoes? If I offended you in some manner I apologize, it was unintentional. It'll hardly due to lose a valuable member of our group so early on in our expedition. Your skills would be sorely missed. I'd offer to buy you a warm breakfast but judging from what I heard coming from the kitchen last night I'd hardly consider that an extension of friendship. What say you, Master Happytoes? Will you continue to aid our group?"
"Hey, little man, watch where you point that thing!" Rend says as he nearly impales his man-parts on the halfling's spear. "Aren't we meeting in here anyway? Where ya off to in such a hurry?" Seeing Dalzig and Shamus in the corner, he continues, "Looks like we've got a table over there. Let's go over. I have to ask Shamus something."With that, he leaves the shocked halfling in his wake as he strides to the others and gets a frowning Shamus to read out a few random words scrawled on small pieces of parchment. Once he's satisfied, he motions for the stunned Harlon to join them and pulls up a chair, wondering aloud when breakfast will be served.
"Where's the dwarf? I hope he remembered his weapon today!"
For a moment, Harlon stands in a state of shock in the middle of the doorway, unsure what to do. To hell with them... to hell with... The halfling stares at his toes as the towering half-orc side steps him. He takes a deep breath, then looks over his shoulder to see Rend waving him over. The rage subsides as quickly as it set in. That's awfully nice of him to invite me back... He seems to care... He's not as dumb and mean as he seems. No, quite the contrary, beneath that rough exterior, there's a sweet and gentle prince... Give them one more chance, Harlon... For Rend's sake... You can't let Rend get killed in that cave of whispers... who will protect him, if not you?
Shaking his still-hooded head in confusion, Harlon makes his way to the table, just as Shamus approaches him. "Nothing's wrong," he mumbles irritably at the warrior, "really, it's nothing. Sorry. Yes, I'm coming."
The halfling then looks up at the half-orc, his face shrouded in shadow. "Sorry, Rend," he states bashfully. "About the spear... and your jewels, I mean..." Then, with sudden and unexplained enthusiasm: "it's a fine morning, isn't it? Well, kind of grey, I guess..."
He hops into a chair next to Rend and, for a moment, says nothing at all. Eventually, as if in afterthought, he mumbles a half-hearted greeting to Dalzig while gazing at his own feet. "Wish I could eat with you guys," he mumbles on, "but I'm not hungry. Rats or no rats..." A violent sneeze escapes him.
"What say you, Master Happytoes? Will you continue to aid our group?"
The halfling's voice has now become strangely frigid, far colder than yesterday, even when he was doubting the wisdom of exploring the cairns or of trying to spare Diamond Lake from some mysterious doom. His mood swings are unsettling. "I've been wondering, Shamus... in what way do you think I can help the group? What do you see in me that would make a valuable contribution to the exploration of the cairns... or, dare I say, to Master Thunderrune's mission to save the world? Everyone else seems to have a well defined part to play... the warriors... the priest... the scholar..." "What can a mere halfling do for you? Shall I shine your boots, carry your gear and loot, and look after camp meals? Hmmm?"
As you gather together at the Feral Dog, the town is almost exploding with activity. Miners (almost half the population of the city) are heading off in every direction to go to work. Carts full of equipment and supplies crowd the street and threaten to crush pedestrians at every turn. New arrivals -- refugees, merchant caravans, supply trains, messengers, and other odd assortments of people -- add to the chaotic press. The occasional mine boss walks down the street casting haughty looks at those they consider beneath them (which is almost everybody).
As you make your way west out of town, militiamen bustle around the top of the garrison hill to your right. To your left, the ancient observatory stands atop its own hill. The standing stone circle on the next hilltop after that competes with the observatory for Creepiest Location in Town.
Bumbling through the door of the inn, Kharid draws up short and lets out a loud wheeze that sends his moustache flapping. Eyeing the others he hurries over while simultaneously trying to stuff his slightly umkempt hair under his dark green baret and adjusting a sturdy leather backpack with all sorts of tools hanging from it.
"I... my apologies for being tardy, I was just... erm, studying this interesting treatise on natural rock formations in undergrou... erm, I'm sure it's of no interest to ye all anyway," he finishes with a sligthly embarrassed chuckle.
"Splendid, we're all here I see!"
After a quick round of shaking everyone's hands he stands in front of the whole group again, possibly beaming with what seems like a mix of pride and almost childish joy.
"Splendid indeed!"
"No. I don't see you shining boots or anything like that. I think that in adittion to being a carpenter, which could be useful enough inside possibly failing tunnels, there's something else you can do isn't there? Something you've not told us about." I say, looking at Harlon with a peircing manner, thinking "There's something he's not telling us. I wonder if it'll be useful or dangerous when we find out about it?"
"I'll be honest with you; I don't buy the "visions of a coming darkness" thing. I see going to this Whispering Cairn as an opportunity, nothing more. I'm a refugee and I need to make some gold, and lost treasures of an ancient Cairn could be useful towards that goal." I walk back to the table with a slight limp and sit down, saying "Does anyone have anything that must be resolved before we leave? Shall we venture out on foot or rent horses?"
"No. I don't see you shining boots or anything like that. I think that in adittion to being a carpenter, which could be useful enough inside possibly failing tunnels, there's something else you can do isn't there? Something you've not told us about." I say, looking at Harlon with a peircing manner, thinking "There's something he's not telling us. I wonder if it'll be useful or dangerous when we find out about it?"
"I'll be honest with you; I don't buy the "visions of a coming darkness" thing. I see going to this Whispering Cairn as an opportunity, nothing more. I'm a refugee and I need to make some gold, and lost treasures of an ancient Cairn could be useful towards that goal." I walk back to the table with a slight limp and sit down, saying "As soon as Kharid arrives we should be ready to go. Does anyone have anything to do? Should we rent horses or go on foot?"
The hooded halfling tilts his head, his interest apparently piqued by something Shamus has said. "What did you say? You're a refugee? From Tynear? When did you leave the camps? What camps did you stay at? Did you...???" His questions explode in quick succession. Harlon seems tense, eager for answers, especially to the last question, which he has not yet asked.
My eyes unfocus for a moment as I think back to the invasion and a shadow of sorrow and guilt passes over my face before I regain control "Yes I came from Tynear. I didn't stay in the camps; when the army came to the city where I lived some of my friends and I fled the city. We got seperated trying to come through a range of mountains in the winter and I've not seen them since, though I expect they're dead. I wandered in a daze for a while and eventually ended up in a refugee camp. I left after a few weeks and started wandering, ending up here. Why? Are you from Tynear?" I say, surprised at myself for saying so much to an almost complete stranger.
My eyes unfocus for a moment as I think back to the invasion and a shadow of sorrow and guilt passes over my face before I regain control "Yes I came from Tynear. I didn't stay in the camps; when the army came to the city where I lived some of my friends and I fled the city. We got seperated trying to come through a range of mountains in the winter and I've not seen them since, though I expect they're dead. I wandered in a daze for a while and eventually ended up in a refugee camp. I left after a few weeks and started wandering, ending up here. Why? Are you from Tynear?" I say, surprised at myself for saying so much to an almost complete stranger.
"Yes, yes I am," responds the halfling excitedly. "From Greenfields, in the east." He hesitates for a moment, his spirits dampening. "Greenfields that is no more," he whispers to himself, shivering. "I am sorry for your losses, Shamus. You wouldn't happened to have... you wouldn't happened to have met some other Happytoes during your travels, or while in the camp? Dayla? Little Raena and Welyn?" Harlon sounds like he could once again burst with hope. His emotional roller coaster is unsettling.
"I was taken seriously ill right before I came here, so I don't remember much of that camp and before that I was in something of a daze so my memory isn't the clearest on that time. I ran into a lot of people, some halflings included but I don't remember anyone by that name right off. What do they look like? The name Welyn sounds kind of familiar. I never went to Greenfields, always sounded nice though. There was a halfling woman named Merla who worked in the same guild as I and she talked a lot about where she was from, Greenfields. I'm sorry for your loss too. I lost some friends while fleeing as well; the people with whom I escaped with got seperated when we were crossing a river and I haven't seen them or heard word of them since. I don't suppose you've run into anyone named Merrius? Or Coris or Thavius?" I say hopefully, without my usual mask of indifference or calculating self interest, thinking "He's a likeable enough fellow. It's been a while since I've talked to any fellow refugee who isn't crazy or drunk inot oblivion."
"I was taken seriously ill right before I came here, so I don't remember much of that camp and before that I was in something of a daze so my memory isn't the clearest on that time. I ran into a lot of people, some halflings included but I don't remember anyone by that name right off. What do they look like? The name Welyn sounds kind of familiar. I never went to Greenfields, always sounded nice though. There was a halfling woman named Merla who worked in the same guild as I and she talked a lot about where she was from, Greenfields. I'm sorry for your loss too. I lost some friends while fleeing as well; the people with whom I escaped with got seperated when we were crossing a river and I haven't seen them or heard word of them since. I don't suppose you've run into anyone named Merrius? Or Coris or Thavius?" I say hopefully, without my usual mask of indifference or calculating self interest, thinking "He's a likeable enough fellow. It's been a while since I've talked to any fellow refugee who isn't crazy or drunk inot oblivion."
"Well, my siblings and I all have the broad Happytoes nose. Raena and Welyn are a few years younger than I, 17 and 14 summers to be exact. They took after Pa more in the sense that they were a little bigger boned, but cute as buttons. Welyn had long brown tresses the last time I saw her, and Raena a thick strawberry blonde braid... but I guess that might have changed. Raena and Welyn are a few inches shorter than me, an' Ma is about my height, with glowing green eyes and a beautiful singing voice... she always used to sing to us..." Harlon's voice breaks, but then he restrains himself from carrying on with the descriptions. After a long pause, the halfling addresses Shamus again, this time in a more level tone. "That doesn't help you remember where you might have heard the name Welyn, does it? I guess Welyn is a common name among my folk..." He sighs wearily.
"But Merla joined a guild in a human town, you say? What kind of guild... wow, the thought of her joining any kind of guild is amazing. I didn'tknow her very well, but I knew her. I wonder if she knows where Ma, Welyn and Raena are... maybe she'll help them find a place in the guild?" It seems that Harlon has not yet clued into the kind of guild that Shamus is talking about.
"Who would have guessed we had so much in common, eh Shamus? But no, I'm sorry, I have not heard of these people that you were separated from. I sincerely hope that you will find them. And I now understand your reason for going on this quest to the cairns, and I too shall do so for the same reasons. I guess I never responded to your initial assessment of my skills... Yes, I'm glad you think that my skills as a carpenter will be beneficial, and I'm sure they will be. As to whether we can do anything else... I mean, whether I can do anything else... well, I hope so... this adventuring stuff is all new to me, but I want to do it... I want out of this stinking hole, and with your help, that could be my ticket. You'll see, you won't regret taking me along!
"Only thing is, I might need some help carrying some of my gear, if you insist that I bring my carpenters' tools (and if I have to buy some rations)... my load is starting to feel a little heavy and cumbersome, and I'm not used to carrying much... or perhaps I can leave my lantern behind, if someone else is carrying one?"
At this point, Harlon seems to have run out of breath. "Wow, I feel much better, all of a sudden." Turning his hooded-face up towards Rend, he asks in a concerned voice: "Rend... did I cut you off?"
"What say you, Master Happytoes? Will you continue to aid our group?"The halfling's voice has now become strangely frigid, far colder than yesterday, even when he was doubting the wisdom of exploring the cairns or of trying to spare Diamond Lake from some mysterious doom. His mood swings are unsettling. "I've been wondering, Shamus... in what way do you think I can help the group? What do you see in me that would make a valuable contribution to the exploration of the cairns... or, dare I say, to Master Thunderrune's mission to save the world? Everyone else seems to have a well defined part to play... the warriors... the priest... the scholar..." "What can a mere halfling do for you? Shall I shine your boots, carry your gear and loot, and look after camp meals? Hmmm?"
Rend's head tilts to the side as he eyes the halfling after this most recent outburst. Orcs in his previous raiding parties never questioned their role. It was always to kill as many goblins as possible. I wonder if Harlon could kill a goblin, he thinks to himself. He doesn't voice his doubts.
After Shamus' reply, he adds, "I don't know how you can help, Harlon, but I have a strong feeling that you should join this group, for both our sake and yours. I've only felt this strongly once before, and..." he pauses, thinking of the time his tribe turned on him, "it is the only reason I am alive today. I can't say why, but I think you will be an important member of this party. Perhaps the most important..."
At that point, Kharid walks in and Rend frowns, seeing that the dwarf, once again, forgot his weapon. He catches himself as he's about to voice his displeasure, not wanting another to second-guess his participation.
After sitting in quiet contemplation for awhile, Rend's eyes perk up when Shamus asks how the group will travel. "Horse!" he exclaims, grinning proudly, "H-O-R-S-E!" His wide grin slowly subsides as he realizes that everyone is staring at him in bewilderment. "Um, ya. I don't ride 'em. Just know how to write 'em. I'll go on foot."
After Shamus' reply, he adds, "I don't know how you can help, Harlon, but I have a strong feeling that you should join this group, for both our sake and yours. I've only felt this strongly once before, and..." he pauses, thinking of the time his tribe turned on him, "it is the only reason I am alive today. I can't say why, but I think you will be an important member of this party. Perhaps the most important..."At that point, Kharid walks in and Rend frowns, seeing that the dwarf, once again, forgot his weapon. He catches himself as he's about to voice his displeasure, not wanting another to second-guess his participation.
After sitting in quiet contemplation for awhile, Rend's eyes perk up when Shamus asks how the group will travel. "Horse!" he exclaims, grinning proudly, "H-O-R-S-E!" His wide grin slowly subsides as he realizes that...
"Wow! Really, Rend, do you truly mean that? Your faith and desire for my companionship mean so much to me... especially coming from you. There's no doubt in my mind anymore, I'm coming. But I'm glad you decided that we wouldn't go by horse... I don't think I could handle that, either. But a big, strong guy like you... would you be able to carry my tools and rations in your pack, so as to lighten my load?"
"Wow! Really, Rend, do you truly mean that? Your faith and desire for my companionship mean so much to me... especially coming from you. There's no doubt in my mind anymore, I'm coming. But I'm glad you decided that we wouldn't go by horse... I don't think I could handle that, either. But a big, strong guy like you... would you be able to carry my tools and rations in your pack, so as to lighten my load?""Sure, I guess. What do you want me to carry?"
Chapter One: Whispers in the Dark
All through the morning as you walk, the chill never leaves the air, though it is late spring. The overcast skies seem always to threaten rain, and you even hear the occasional muted rumble of far off thunder, but aside from a few scattered drops, thick and noisy as they splat, the clouds give no release. The air is heavy and still.
Not long after you leave town, you leave the main road, following a smaller, disused mining road into the hills. What little information Kharid has to go on for finding the Whispering Cairn comes from and old, hand drawn map he found in his research at Jhesail. He'd procured a more accurate surveyor's map of the area upon arrival, but the Whispering Cairn is not listed, even though it notes many others.
Still, between Kharid's map, and Harlon's best guesses from local rumor, you're all confident you're on the right track. At one point as you crest a hill, you all think you see three figures atop another hill off in the distance, in the direction of the Stirgenest Cairn. Whether it is Tirra and her companions, and whether they see you or not is impossible to determine.
Though the sun is hidden, it feels like almost midday before you crest a small rise and see an abandoned building set back from the road. Harlon's heard the local kids say the Whispering Cairn is near a "falling down house," and this is surely it. Once it was a two story building, left over perhaps from some older, failed mining venture; now empty and falling to ruin. The whole eastern side of the structure, and all of its second floor, lies in rubble, but the western end of the building still seems to have ground floor rooms with intact roofs.
A lightning bolt arcs across the sky, accompanied by a loud crack of thunder. Moments later, the clouds unleash such a deluge, you almost feel as if you're standing at the bottom of a waterfall.
Spoiler for Harlon:
Dalzig looks up at the sky and curses as rain starts to splatter on his cheeks. "R-rain? At this time of day? But my armor will rust!" He glances at the building, and as quickly as his legs will carry him heads towards the relative safety it provides.
Dalzig looks up at the sky and curses as rain starts to splatter on his cheeks. "R-rain? At this time of day? But my armor will rust!" He glances at the building, and as quickly as his legs will carry him heads towards the relative safety it provides.
"Blight of Bergol!" Rend curses, gazing upwards, "This is no weather for cleaving goblins!"
With that, he charges past Dalzig (speed = 40 ft) towards the somewhat intact western side of the decrepit building. He heads towards whatever might be construed as the main entrance and, convinced that the place is uninhabitable, barges in without bothering to draw his sword or check for traps. Armed or unarmed, however, a priest of Kord is always ready for danger...
Spoiler for Harlon:
** spoiler omitted **
"Sure, I guess. What do you want me to carry?"
Harlon hustles to join Dalzig and Rend at the entrance of the derelict structure, his pack bouncing on his back. "Who knew this was out here?" he says in awe. "With a bit of work, it could become a decent home again... a bit far from Diamond Lake, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. It's location in the heart of cairn country might actually be perfect for explorers like ourselves... Maybe we should keep that in mind on our way back?" This new self-identification as an explorer seems to elevate the unpredictable halfling's spirits... for the moment, anyway.
The halfling peers up at the ruined ceiling, and then outside again. "In the meantime, let's hope it can keep us dry enough from the rain!"
"Sure, I guess. What do you want me to carry?"
"Oh no, my maps!" Kharid yelps as the downpour tears through the air.
"Hurry, hurry everyone!" he yells over the sudden noise of the rain and starts running towards the abandoned house.
Hitching his thick cloak around his shoulders he nevertheless slows down a bit to allow Dalzig to keep up with him.
Memorized: (3+1/2+1/1/0/0/0/0/0/0/; base DC = 14 + spell level (+1 for divination spells))
0th- * Detect Magic, * Read Magic, Mending, Dancing Lights
1st- * Comprehend Languages, Mage Armor, Sleep
2nd- * Locate Object
Spells marked with an asterisk (*) is a divination spell.
A low stone wall surrounds the building, though it too is crumbled and falling apart. Weeds and brush choke the yard, almost obscuring the small path that leads to the front doorway.
As you step through the ruins of what was once a porch, and cross the threashold into the building proper, it seems that the building is not as ruined as it seemed upon initial viewing.
The main room of the house is a large living area, perhaps sixty feet across from the front door to a set of closed double doors in the wall on the other side. To the right, a swollen and rotted wooden door lies crookedly across its doorway, leading to a slightly smaller room on the western side of the building that, judging by the shelves of corroded books, was once a library. To the left, the smaller hearth room that sticks out from the main structure lies completely destroyed, save for the actual hearth itself. Everything else around the hearth -- its chimney, the stone walls, and most of the eastern wall of the main structure, is heaped in a pile of jumbled stone around it. Above, a gaping hole through the floor timbers of the second level continues straight through the timbers and thatch of the roof, allowing the deluge to drench the room as easily as if it were the front yard. The large main room is strewn with destroyed timbers and furniture (including some that surely once resided in the room above), and is currently doing a passable impersonation of a lake.
However, at least for the front side of the building, with the exception of the eastern wall, all of the external and internal walls look intact and sturdy, and while dripping with half a hundred leaks the library to the west does seem to offer true respite from the rain.
Shamus coughs and draws his collar around his face against the rain.
"I've stayed in worse," he says, and steps gingerly over the crooked door into the relative shelter of the library.
Shamus coughs and draws his collar around his face against the rain.
"I've stayed in worse," he says, and steps gingerly over the crooked door into the relative shelter of the library.
"So have I," mutters Harlon, "so have I. This is heaven compared to some of the refugee camps. Still, let's hope the rain doesn't last too long... the sooner we're done with our errand, the better, I say..."
"So have I," mutters Harlon, "so have I. This is heaven compared to some of the refugee camps. Still, let's hope the rain doesn't last too long... the sooner we're done with our errand, the better, I say..."Shamus coughs and draws his collar around his face against the rain.
"I've stayed in worse," he says, and steps gingerly over the crooked door into the relative shelter of the library.
"No use staying in here," Rend remarks as he wades through the ruined living room towards the library. "I suppose there's not much to do but wait this one out. Kharid, are we almost at the cairn? I feel an excitement growing inside me. We must be close."
"No use staying in here," Rend remarks as he wades through the ruined living room towards the library. "I suppose there's not much to do but wait this one out. Kharid, are we almost at the cairn? I feel an excitement growing inside me. We must be close."
Kharid runs his hands over the walls, prods a beam here and there and finally nods with satisfaction. "This should hold up nicely for now, although we could have used a large tarp to seal off the library from the rain, wouldn't ye agree Master Happytoes?"
Gently taking out the maps again and wiping off any water that might have accumulated on them, Kharid studies them for a moment and then points to a spot. "As far as I can tell, this building should be located right around here, which means that the cairn is not far off at all."Looking out through the now missing door he continues, "Although I'd suggest we wait a while here and hopefully the rain will... NO! Don't kick that beam Rend! It's a supporting beam and I'm not sure how much abuse it can take!"
Being one of the last ones in the door, Dalzig hurriedly pushes through to the relative safety of the library. Finding himself dripping water, a condition he most definetly does not favor while wearing armor, he sets about taking it off the armor with some quite audible clanks. Once the armor is strewn across the floor in a haphazard manner he sits on his haunches and shivers. "This might not be the worst place you've been to, but it is most definitely the worst place I've stayed in. Let's get a fire going." Dalzig glances at everyone else expectantly, making no move himself to get one started.
DAMN! I'm on a roll here (pardon the pun)... which probably means that when I get to some really important rolls they're going to suck, hahaha.
Actually, the timber looks pretty sturdy, now that you really look at it. In fact, aside from the missing roof and flooring, and the eastern wall, the building is surprisingly sound, structually. It could easily be made livable again with a lot of work, and a little cash, mostly for new timbers and fresh thatching. There's more than enough stone rubble to rebuild the collapsed wall, though that would take more work than anything else.
Being one of the last ones in the door, Dalzig hurriedly pushes through to the relative safety of the library. Finding himself dripping water, a condition he most definetly does not favor while wearing armor, he sets about taking it off the armor with some quite audible clanks. Once the armor is strewn across the floor in a haphazard manner he sits on his haunches and shivers. "This might not be the worst place you've been to, but it is most definitely the worst place I've stayed in. Let's get a fire going." Dalzig glances at everyone else expectantly, making no move himself to get one started.
There is little to start a fire with. The wood is all soaked, from just the last few minutes of rain, and the books that once lined the shelves have dissolved into mush over the years, little colonies of pale book-boring worms swim delightedly through the soggy paste.
It takes a minute or two for Dalzig to get out of his armor, and shortly after that, the pouring rain outside slows to a mild drizzle.
Hearing the sound of the rain slow, Dalzig looks out the wall to see the downpour turn to a drizzle. He throws his hands in the air with a shout of "Bizrip!" He sits down on the floor and crosses his arms and starts loudly mumbling to himself. "Nothing works my way. I'd be better living under a rock. But even the rock would hate me then!"
After a minute of pouting, he gets back up, slightly drier, and beings putting his armor back on.
Hearing the sound of the rain slow, Dalzig looks out the wall to see the downpour turn to a drizzle. He throws his hands in the air with a shout of "Bizrip!" He sits down on the floor and crosses his arms and starts loudly mumbling to himself. "Nothing works my way. I'd be better living under a rock. But even the rock would hate me then!"
After a minute of pouting, he gets back up, slightly drier, and beings putting his armor back on.
"I'll help you with that," Rend says as he effortlessly lifts Dalzig's scale armor off the floor and helps him pull it over his shoulders. At least someone came prepared for battle, he thinks to himself, eyeing Kharid accusingly.
Once Dalzig is ready to go, Rend begins to pace impatiently about the room. "The rain's pretty much stopped. Why don't we find the cairn before it starts up again?"
[Kharid runs his hands over the walls, prods a beam here and there and finally nods with satisfaction. "This should hold up nicely for now, although we could have used a large tarp to seal off the library from the rain, wouldn't ye agree Master Happytoes?"
Gently taking out the maps again and wiping off any water that might have accumulated on them, Kharid studies them for a moment and then points to a spot. "As far as I can tell, this building should be located right around here, which means that the cairn is not far off at all."
Looking out through the now missing door he continues, "Although I'd suggest we wait a while here and hopefully the rain will... NO! Don't kick that beam Rend! It's a supporting beam and I'm not sure how much abuse it can take!"
"Yes, yes," agrees Harlon absent-mindedly. "The basic structure is remarkably solid, despite the long period of neglect. Perhaps we should seriously consider putting it back into shape, if we should come back laden with riches from the cairn. Make it a temporary home, as it were..." And who knows, perhaps one day it will make a suitable home for Ma and the bipkis... Harlon sneezes loudly from the depths of his hood.
Hearing Rend suggest that they resume their journey, the halfling replies: "this might be a good opportunity to sit down for a bite to eat. What's the rush? No one else will be going to the cairn in this weather, and once inside, darkness is darkness, regardless of the time of day we enter... although, I guess that whatever dwells in the darkness, if indeed anything lives down there, might be more active at night..." The halfling's last words become a barely audible whisper.
"I'd hate to die on an empty stomach. Food sounds like a pretty good idea. Maybe the rain will stop by the time we're done."
"I'd hate to die on an empty stomach. Food sounds like a pretty good idea. Maybe the rain will stop by the time we're done."
Rend grumbles a bit about wasting time when adventure! is so near, but is otherwise amenable to the plan of eating first.
"I'm not sure why we would need a permanent place to live out here, but I suppose this would make a good staging point for forays into the cairn. It's close by and provides some form of shelter. Shall we claim it as our first conquest?"
"Yes, it would make a good base of operations. Let's stake our claim to it." I say as I rummage through my backpack for my rations.
Your light lunch passes amiably, and by the time you've finished, the drizzle has even slowed to naught but a few random drops and sprinkles.
Out on the rocky hills, the pale bits of crumbled stone from civilizations long gone litter the landscape. Moisture glistens on every surface, and sparkles to life as the sun peeks out briefly from behind the clouds.
Your light lunch passes amiably, and by the time you've finished, the drizzle has even slowed to naught but a few random drops and sprinkles.
Out on the rocky hills, the pale bits of crumbled stone from civilizations long gone litter the landscape. Moisture glistens on every surface, and sparkles to life as the sun peeks out briefly from behind the clouds.
Rend finishing eating quickly and starts pacing back and forth. "Are you done, yet? Can we go? Adventure awaits!"
Dalzig finishes putting on his armor, assisted by Rend. He gives a nod of thanks to Rend as he starts a brisk shaking, making sure it is seated properly. Satisfied, he picks up his morningstar.
"Adventure! Let's go! Let's go!"
Dalzig lights up like a candle, almost as if he had forgotten what they were doing. He starts to slowly trudge his way outside, heedless of where he's going.
"Yes, let us be on our way." I say, shouldering my pack and stepping out the door and beggining back on our path.
The sun is warm for the brief moment it peeks out from behind the clouds, but it soon disappears again, the unseasonable chill in the air returning with the overcast gloom.
As you all step out of the crumbling structure and start walking over the hilltops again, you look back and notice that a large raven is perched on Harlon's shoulder.
Harlon:
Harlon notices everyone staring at him.
"It's just a friend of mine. Nothing to be staring about," he mumbles.
With that, the raven takes to the air and begins circling the area in a wide, slow gyre.
"I think he'll be able to help us. We might get a better view from the air." As he finishes speaking, Harlon seems to be concentrating and something else unseen by the rest of the party. "Yes, that must be it. There's quite a bit of brush in the way. We'd likely never have seen it from the ground. Over that way," he points. "that second hillside."
Sure enough, the second hill to the west has a large clump of brush growing out of its flank. Above it, the raven is now flying it a tight circle, directly above the flank with the clump of trees.
It is about a ten minute walk to the stand of brush. As you arrive, the raven alights on nearby chunk of rubble and gives a loud caw. The brush and rubble in front of the entrance could likely be cleared in about ten minutes, but otherwise it is difficult terrain to cross, and your movement is halved.
Dalzig hums tonelessly as the group walks to the cairn. His armor chinks and creaks and squeaks a little as his short legs pump to try to keep up. Seeing the pile of brush, he states, "There's no way I could get through that! Wait, this is the place, isn't it?"
"If this is the place than I suggest that we only clear away a small portion of the brush, just enough for a path, and then keep the brush nearby so that we can cover the entrance to the Cairn when we leave." I say, looking appraisingly at the brush.
"If this is the place than I suggest that we only clear away a small portion of the brush, just enough for a path, and then keep the brush nearby so that we can cover the entrance to the Cairn when we leave." I say, looking appraisingly at the brush.
Still not sure what a cairn is, Rend grasps that whatever they're looking for lies beyond the curtain of foliage. "Good plan, Shamus," he remarks as he draws his greatsword and begins to cut a swath through the underbrush. At least the first part, he muses silently, as he makes no effort to cover his tracks.