Authiel was a tiny little thing, but her heart was large and full.  The sight of the dead elf brought her to noiseless tears.  She had no choice but to find a way to give this elf a proper burial.  Not for the first time Authiel wished she were a priestess instead of a destructive mage, but that didn't change a thing.  She had no shovel, but she had her two hands.  Looking around, Authiel looked for a perfect spot where the grave could see both trees and sky, and then she dropped to her knees, found a rock, and began digging while tears left tracks on her pale cheeks.

Seeing Authiel begin to scratch and claw at the dirt with her bare hands, Allessandra paused for a moment, fought back tears of her own. Dropping to her knees beside Authiel, she too begin to dig, wincing at the sharp stones and twigs biting into her hands.

She has no words to console Authiel, but hopes her actions could speak for her.

Gurgun can do this... The hobgoblin says, gently taking the large shield from the priestess and using it as a shovel.

Seeing Authiel kneel down and begin to dig had a strange effect on Iodaem, one he couldn't have described for anything in the world.  But after a moment, he walked over to help her, not saying a single word.

In a daze of some sort, it barely registered with Authiel that others had come to help.  Even Gurgon digging with a shield did not come to her attention.  She just kept digging, getting her soft white hands soiled, scratched and bruised, breaking off her carefully-kept long nails while her tears rolled unchecked down her now-dirty face.

Slove as is his way is last to reach.
He looks at the body of the elf and then back at his dwarven friend as if say why.
He then walks over to body.
He looks over the body in great detail to see if he can work out what killed the elf.
He then stands up with elf bow in his hand.
"You deserve a better priest than me to bury you.  Just expect that you are part of my path to wholeness.  If I can I will stop what killed you and help restore your protection over this area."

He then picks up battleaxes and hands one to each other his friends that digging without a word.  He would join in but there is now to many digging.  Also as ranger he know someone must keep watch.

He turns to Jorn.  Keep an eye out for danger.

He then returns to body of elf and prepares it to be buried.  As he does he keep eye on both diggers and for any thing could attack the group.

OOC:
11:40, Today: Slove rolled 27 using 1d20+7. spot.
11:40, Today: Slove rolled 15 using 1d20+7. listen.
11:39, Today: Slove rolled 22 using 1d20+2. Heal.

The ground was muddy, and digging the hole without proper tools was hard, filthy work, but no one complained and resented it. Slove said a few holy words in the elven tongue, and with appropriate silence, the unnamed elven ranger was consigned to his grave. It would be a good place to lie for eternity, here in this peaceful glade in the forest that he'd loved and protected all his life.

Slove watched and listened keenly, but the forest was still and silent, perhaps unnaturally so.

With a seemingly endless supply of tears, Authiel covered the elf in his grave with the dirt she and her companions had removed.  Then, without a care for how she looked, she glanced around in the hopes of finding some flowers to plant in the freshly-tilled soil.

It's quiet here. Gurgun states, joining Slove on the watch. Where are the other masters? Surely they should know one of their numbers is missing? he speculates.
Having returned the heavy shield to the priestess, he looks ready to press on.

Jorn had watched in silence during the burial, watching with Slove in case of attack.

He shruuged at Gurgun"s comment, "I don't know how thin they're spread.  Perhaps a delay of days before their paths cross is not uncommon.

They have a reputation of vigilance and... omnipresence. The hobgoblin seem to struggle slightly with the last word.
You have travelled far with Slove?

Slove looks at Gurgun.
"The truth is I know little of how the masters work in this land.  I come from different place.  A different forest.  Even there I have not walked for many years.  May be longer than your life time.  I have walked the plans of another land.  An exile."
Something in his words tell of long and sad tail.
"We have only just arrived in this land and not to our choosing. I would say he would be missed very soon if they follow ways of most of my people."
He looks around.
"However if this set of stones and the horn are what I feel they maybe I do not think we should expect any help from the master.  I would say it up to us to help them."

Slove descend back to gloom he knows however it clear his word speak from deep understand of his own people and land around.

Jorn listened and nodded as Slove spoke, then added, "Farther than I like to think about, and much of that in a single step. We came from the Shaar, and I've only lately learned how far that truly is.

Allessandra kneels at the foot of the elf's grave, whispers the Morninglord's prayer for the dead, asking that all benevolent gods watch over this warriors grave.

She stands, looks around and finds most of the party packed and ready to move on. She slings her pack back onto her horse and wonders how much farther down the road they will have to travel today.

You speak in riddles, or at least that is what Gurgun hears. I do not know the Shaar or where that land lays. My home is in Deepingdale; us Seekers have a monastery there. Gurgun says as he mounts his large horse.

Jorn grinned. He liked the big Seeker. He was almost as direct as Slove. "I may speak in riddles, my friend, but I fear that the joke is on me... and on Slove here." Then Jorn too mounted up and made ready to travel.

When the elf was completely buried and flowers had been planted within the soil that rested over him, Authiel stood up and whispered the words of a beautiful elven prayer, and then she softly sang something she had often heard throughout her lifetime when a brave elf had died in battle.  Finally, the last to be ready, she rejoined the others with a sorrowful bent to her shoulders and the last of her tears sliding down her pale cheeks.

Now that they'd shared both danger, victory and tragedy, the adventurers had begun to open up a little bit more and talked as they made the long journey through the forest.

But they were on the alert for danger, and Slove's eagle eyes stayed sharp. But he hardly needed to have bothered, he reflected. No dangerous animals or monsters appeared to threaten them; for all the hazards there were and were promised, it seemed that they'd all fled as well. The Yuirwood was silent and still, bar the gentle forest murmurs and whispers. At times, it sounded like furtive voices, but imaginations were surely playing tricks.

The ranger had kept his eyes peeled on the road ahead, too, and reported no prints that might have belonged to the Cult of the Dragon agents that they'd met back in Furthinghome. Either they had taken a different route, had concealed their passage somehow, or maybe they have been tardy and were on the road behind.

The day dragged on, night fell, and the party made camp under the forest canopy. Birds hooted and tweetered throughout the night, an annoying presence, but they were the only company. Anxious watchers reported no disturbances or lurking beasts. It was a quiet night.

Deep In The Yuirwood
18 Marpenoth 1375

They awoke early the next morning, and made a good start on their journey. Tulin's map lead the way with accurately, and Slove knew his way around a forest, even if it wasn't this forest. They turned off the road at the right spot, and penetrated the thick and wild forest itself.

There was no road or path here, but the path of Tulin's caravan was easily noticed - two wheel ruts running through the leaf mulch, a trail of churned earth and crushed plants. Just how desperate had the merchant been to try such a mad idea, in his efforts to be rid of the cursed dragon's horn?

And still there was nothing to bother them, no travellers, no rangers, no animals larger than a hare, and certainly no monsters or dragon cultists. If it weren't for the presence of each other, the crushing loneliness of the place could have become unbearable.

Finally, at last, they were there. The trees parted to reveal a small clearing, and rising from the tangled greenery was the stone circle that they'd been looking for. Huge menhirs supported stone slab arches, forming a circle of dolmens. There were seven in all, fifteen feet high and towering over the travellers. Inside the ring, in a clearing thirty feet wide, the grasses grew barely an inch high, though they rose to a foot outside.



The stones were matted in places with mosses and lichen and vines, but mostly they were bare, and much more than they rightly should be. Well-worn carvings appeared on each one, strange symbols and peculiar, half-recognisable shapes.

What eldritch rituals and feral dances might have once occurred at this ancient place they could not say, but they could still feel a timeless power that a gave a subtle majesty to these pitted, lichen-encrusted stones and brought a hush over the forest in their vicinity.


OOC: You've probably all healed to maximum, after rest and healing spells of the day before.

Gurgun leaps off the back of his horse, quite pleased with being on foot. He approaches the stone circle warily, wanting to examine the carvings more closely. Pulling out his notebook he sets about sketching them down, trying to find in his memory any recollection of what they might mean.

20:58, Today: Gurgun Nightwhisper rolled 20 using 1d20+4. Know: religion.

OOC: Not a lot. :)

Try Knowledge (Arcana) and Decipher Script. Let me know if you speak Elven as well when you make the checks.

The journey had worn on Authiel's nerves as well as her body.  She was tired inside and out, and she still grieved for the loss of her distant kin.  Not only was it heartbreaking in its own right, but she had begun to reflect on the death of her dearest sister as a result.  The elven mage had become more withdrawn, leaning more and more on Iodaem just to get through the little parts of each day.  It wasn't until there was something useful for her to do that Authiel snapped out of it a little bit.  She was melancholy when she slipped off her horse and slowly moved around the stone circle, examining the carvings carefully and thoroughly.

I know Elven, of course.
21:24, Today: Authiel Hannasiel rolled 22 using 1d20+10. Know: Arcana.
21:24, Today: Authiel Hannasiel rolled 11 using 1d20+3. Decipher.

Jorn looked at the circle for a moment, then slipped his hand into a pouch for a small bottle of elixir.  Drinking it, he slithered from his pony and circled the menhirs in the opposite direction from Authiel.  When he got back to the starting place, he stopped to discuss with the pretty elf maid before sharing whatever they'd found with the others, deferring to her if she preferred to tell what they'd learned.

OOC: Potion of Comprehend Languages... he now reads Elven. :-)

04:56, Today: Jorn Brightcaller rolled 10 using 1d20+6. KS: Arcana.
04:56, Today: Jorn Brightcaller rolled 18 using 1d20+10. Decipher Script.

Iodaem stayed close to Authiel, keeping on alert.  He didn't like the looks of this place - if someone had bothered to put up a circle of stones like this in the middle of the wild forest, and marking it with strange inscriptions, he would bet every gold coin he'd ever make on it being magical, and not the good kind, either. . .


OOC:  I've got no skills of any sort to contribute here, sorry.  :p

OOC: Come to think of it, also make Knowledge (The Planes) checks if you like. And the Elven language thing is not essential, you can just ask a speaker of Elven to translate for you. So you can save your potion, Jorn.

I'll update with results tomorrow, hopefully.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:07, Sun 18 May 2008.

Allessandra is grateful to finally be able to stop spending quite so much time in the saddle. She hasn't ever traveled quite so much in a very long time. She gracefully dismounts, landing in the tall grass and approaches the stone circle, her hands palm down as the grass tickles her hands. She first takes a circuit around the entire structure, eying it from top to bottom, just to see the entire impressive structure, listening to the translations by one of her party members. Its almost like a museum tour led by a docent, how exciting she thought to herself. After her first examination, she begins a second circuit, this time examining each upright stone.


08:27, Today: Allessandra rolled 61 using 7d20+1 with rolls of 3,2,7,13,19,5,11. search rolls for pillars. (not quite what was intended... the sum is those numbers + 1. 6,5,10,16,22,8,14

08:28, Today: Allessandra rolled 81 using 7d20+3 with rolls of 20,11,12,3,17,7,8. spot rolls for pillars. same thing here... haha, 23,14,15,6,20,10,11.

08:22, Today: Allessandra rolled 22 using 1d20+7. knowledge religion.
08:22, Today: Allessandra rolled 17 using 1d20+7. knowledge planes.