Martin nods slowly, "Bandits, eh?  Hunted a few of them in my time.  For all that the Tradeway's patrolled by knights from Reme, Bard's Gate, Derindin and Freegate, there's still a few of them that're prepared to try their luck."

Colwyn shrugs, looking from Ozzy to Eilieen, "Maybe's a map, or a letter from some rich bugger's ol' mum.  An' maybe's summat what'll kill a cove what looks at it." a quick smile as Erista works her spell, "Jus' what I were waitin' fer."

He motions to the silvered dagger, "Maybe's fer killin' evil.  Or maybe's it jus' belongs ter the same rich bugger what got the letter from 'is dear ol' mum, an' 'e's got more coin than sense."

Corian clears his throat, "Should we spend the evening here, do you think?  Or should we travel to Grimwood overnight.  Time could well be of the essence in recovering the relic."
This message was last edited by the player at 10:22, Thu 12 July 2012.

Ozzy considers the two alternatives. He stands a long moment, rubbing his shoulder and trying to turn it full circle, wincing each time. Then his hand goes to his belly, which has neglected for most of the day and is now growling in protest. He lets out a big yawn at the thought of a late night hike at this hour and shakes his head, blinking sleepily. " I'm in no hurry to go for a moonlit walk in a haunted forest." he says, casting his vote for a night of rest. " I know travelling in the morning may well kill the 'atmosphere' of the Grimwood, but wouldn't it be safer?" He stretches, and again the small pain in his shoulder protests any further activity.

Fergus subsides somewhat.  If Shandril believes the thief may be hiding in the Grimwood, that's good enough for Fergus.

Since he isn't interested in stolen property (there being no real prospect of returning it) Fergus concentrates on sharpening his scythe and tidying up the rest of his kit.

"If we're going to have to fight, I could use a rest first.  No offence to Aarnr and Eilieen but I'm still feeling sore."

"If you set out now, it'll likely be about sunrise when you reach Grimwood." Martin opines, "It's a long walk, over rough ground.  Unless you go through the village and take the old track to the wizard's place.  Then the going's easier, but you'll be taken a bit out of your way, so it probably won't be much quicker."

"If you leave at dawn, you could probably be there at about noon, or a bit after."

Erista continues staring at the scroll case, whispering quietly. 

Colwyn, meanwhile, picks up the silver bladed dagger.  "I's 'avin' one o' these already.  Anyone wantin' this'un?"  If there's a reason he already carries a silver blade, he doesn't offer it.  Perhaps he's one of those rich people with more coin than sense that he mentioned earlier.

Aarnr was halfway to his feet, before the chorus of voices voting for a more circumspect approach to the problem saw him slump back down again.  With little reluctance, if truth be told, as despite Eilieen's best efforts, he's still a lot the worse for wear after the encounter with the owl-bear, and it'll be some hours before he's up to yelling at Bowbe to heal him properly.

The priest shakes his head at the offer of the silvered dagger, thinking the blade too soft for serious use, and won't hold an edge worth a damn ... and in any event a good deal less effective than the great big sword he habitually wields.

"I'd rather be able to see what I'm froggin' slayin'!" he agrees with Ozzy.  And he's suspicious of trees at the best of times.

Aarnr is unperturbed by Erista's mutterings over the parchment scroll.  He can't read a word himself, but most of those few in his tribe who can read also have to sound out the words on the page.

"No offense taken, Fergus, of course.  We shall see about wiping away the last of the pain tomorrow.  And thank you for the wonderful advice, Martin.  Oh, I think in sunlight would be best," Eilieen agrees.  "Better to be traipsing through a malicious forest in brilliance than darkness."  She glances at the dagger for a moment, the shakes her head in turn.  "If none wish for it, I will take it and hope never to use it," she notes.  While Eilieen has no compunctions about killing that which threatens good people, she carries a spear for a reason.

It keeps the goop and ichor at a distance.

"Erista, what of the scroll?"  Now that, she finds interesting.

Colwyn nods and hands the dagger, hilt first, to Eilieen.  "Good balance." he comments as she takes the silver-bladed weapon.  Without another word he empties the purse out into the box and starts to count the coins, his nimble fingers dividing them quickly into groups.

One he picks up, peering at it.  Then he bites it, looks at it again, and tosses it into the fire.

Erista continues to mutter as she stares at the scroll case... 

Corian nods as the votes come in, "I will admit that I'd rather wait for daylight before setting out again.  Who knows, perhaps a new day will bring better weather?"

Martin laughs, "Doubt it.  I've got a gammy elbow that tells me it's likely going to stay wet for a bit longer."

"Well, it's nothing too exciting," Erista says.  "Aura's not very strong, but it's shifty...illusions, or...no, transmutation."  She nods to herself, and then shrugs, sitting back.  "Corian could maybe tell us more," she finishes.

Aramil spends his time quietly tending to the food, but has his ears open to the conversation. As the box opens he turns, intrigues to know what it contains. With the knowledge of the box's contents he returns to the food, sure that too many people are already working on the contents. He nods agreement with Ozzy after the halfing suggests waiting till dawn before travelling. Though able to see better than some, the half-elf prefers the darkened backstreets of towns rather than the wilds of nature.

As others join in their opinions, he turns to Martin and asks "You obviously know a lot about the area here. Are there anything we should look out for as we travel along? And what do you know about the tower? Any more information would be handy. "

"I shall ask you to teach me to throw it then, Colwyn," Eilieen muses, accepting the dagger.  "My thanks."  The priestess fumbles with the weapon for a moment, struggling to find a place for it on her belt.  Must buy some new clothing, she considers, settling the knife in place.  Stronger than this, but well-made.  Perhaps with some lace about the wrists and throat.

Tomorrow, it seems, will be the time they travel.  A good thing.  Eilieen settles back against her rock, desperately pretending it is the comfortable back of a padded chair, and shuts her lips against potential complaints when Martin informs them the rain will continue.

"Corian?" she inquires.  "Any thoughts upon the scroll?"

"I've not been to the tower itself, but I have hunted around the fringe of Grimwood." Martin replies to Aramil, "Nothing really lives there... most animals avoid the place, and the local farmersmake sure they stay away from it, and tell their kids to do the same, as he'll tell you." he indicates Fergus.

"The big danger is when something from up in the mountains makes its way there.  Grimwood seems to attract them.  Some fell beast wanders close to Fairhill, and the first thing they do is make a beeline for Grimwood.  Won't settle, mind, they'll hang about for a week or three, maybe a couple of months, making a nuisance of themselves, attacking cattle and the like.  Then they wander off again, unless the local farmers send for me, or someone like me."

"I admit though, I'm dreading the day some dragon decides to roost in Grimwood for a bit."

The hunter lays down, leaning on one elbow (presumably not his gammy one), "Most of the other animals around here are the sort of things you'll see anywhere.  Wolves, foxes, maybe a bear.  Nothing too dangerous, though I've heard rumours there might be trolls somewhere about."

"The land between here and Grimwood isn't too bad.  Pretty much the same as round here, hills and valleys all the way, with patches of woodland here and there, and some marsh.  But you can avoid a lot of that if you go back to Fairhill and take the old track to the tower."

Colwyn passes the scroll case to Corian, who opens it and unrolls the contents.  "Beth mae'n ei ddweud!" he pronounces, staring at the document, before quickly putting it back into the case, out of the weather.  "It appears to be a spell for making a creature stronger, or at least that's what I believe it to be.  It is perhaps an older form, but it does bear some resemblance to more modern versions that I have seen.  The handwriting was abysmal, and the diagrams almost childish, which did not help my understanding of the it."

He sets the scroll aside and nods towards the fire, "I think dinner may be about ready."

Dinner is, indeed, about ready.

Rabbit stew, with a few vegetables and dry bread to soak up the gravy for most; with fruit, vegetables and more bread for Eilieen.  Not exactly the best meal any of them have ever eaten, but filling, and on an evening like this one, it's as good as any feast.

Martin and Hanne take their leave after dinner, Martin pleading things to do, and a need to be in a particular place by dawn to do them.  He sets off down the hill towards the southwest, headed away from Fairhill, towards the Tradeway.

Shelter is scarce on the hilltop.  The best the group can do is huddle against the broken walls of the ancient cottage, wrapped in blankets in an effort to gain what protection they can from the intermittent rain.  Watches are assigned, and the night passes peacefully.  Perhaps the weather is keeping the less pleasant occupants of the area inside whatever passes for a home for each.

Dawn comes up, finally, bringing subdued birdsong, and the sun rises amid bands of black cloud in a vemillion sky.  Not a good omen for the day's weather.  Except, of course, to Aarnr.


OOC: Time to top up those spells everybody.

Dragons and trolls !  Aarnr is liking the sound of this Grimwood all the more, as if the forbidding name wasn't reason enough to go there.

Indeed, the priest is more than sorry to see Martin and his dog take their leave, and though it goes against the grain, thanks the hunter warmly for the ointment.

While the night isn't all that comfortable (especially if anyone tries to huddle too close, as Aarnr is against that sort of thing), much to his surprise dawn brings the promise of a thoroughly miserable day, the sort he likes best.

Still feeling a bit stiff, the priest's first duty on waking is to loudly and colorfully remonstrate with his god (technically 'prayer' as it applies to those who worship Bowbe, though the expletives and threats that are less thinly-veiled and more completely disrobed further subdue the bird-song and nigh on darken the sun).

Honour satisfied, the priest heals himself (makings of a good proverb there, though he knows it not), before turning his attention to breakfast (assuming one of his somewhat bedraggled companions has stirred their lazy bones to cook something).

"Gleepin' good day for it, thou tardy-gaited gudgeons !" Aarnr encourages those companions cheerily.

Colwyn grins at Aarnr, glad to see the man in a brighter mood this morning.  "Yer di'n't die in the night, then?  Good.  I'd've 'ad ter count out this bloody coin again if'n yer did."

He opens the lid on the box from the bandits' hideout, which has lain close to him all night, picking out a stack of mixed gold and silver coins, which he offers to Aarnr.  "I 'ad ter juggle things 'round a bit, but everybody ended up with 24 silvers, but not all in silver, mind, and there's three left over.  Not a lot, but at least none of us 'ad ter die ter get it."


OOC: Added 24 sp (or equivalent in gold and silver) to character sheets.

It's a scant dinner and a miserable night for Eilieen.  Not only does it rain, but her stomach growls like a bear.  Plus, mid-way through the night she had half-consciously crawled closer to one of the group for warmth.  That had resulted in her blinking awake outside the shelter, victim of a ferocious shove.

Now she eyes her companions over the top of her teacup, wondering which it might have been.  Not that she can complain, having done far worse to acolytes crawling into her bed in the middle of the night.  But here, she had been innocent of lewd thoughts!

Bother it, anyway.

With her watch being at the end of the night, she has had plenty of time for prayer.  Now she makes breakfast for the group, wrinkling her nose at the leftover stew heating on the coals.  "And a fine morning to you as well, Aarnr, sky and rain despite."  Studying his hands, she notes their size and rubs one shoulder.  Could it be...no, no.

"Oh, my thanks Colwyn," the priestess continues.  "Another few like that, and I shall afford to clothe myself properly again."  Properly and proper, both.  None of that lacy, half-transluscent stuff they prefered at the temple.  It's a wonder anyone showed any interest in Eilieen at all back home, given her preference for dresses done up to the neck.  "Breakfast, then?"

"Oh, and when Fergus awakens, I'll see to his injuries."  A smile brightens her pale features despite the grim weather and poor sleep; healing her friends is the best possible activity start to the day.  "Better yet...why have him awaken with aching wounds?"

Moving over to Fergus, she lays a light hand on his shoulder.  "Wake easy, enfolded in the loving arms of Zadastha," the priestess whispers, and silvery light sparkles about her fingers.

Cure light wounds, domain spell.  Let's see how I do...not horribly.  ^_^  Fergus heals 6 points, plus whatever he gains for resting a night.  If more is needed, I'll continue with either CMW or CLW, depending if he only has one or two HP left to heal, or 4+.

"I thought I heard a bear in the night !" Aarnr continues in both cheery and encouraging fashion.  "Perhaps he's still hanging around," he adds, hopefully.

Indeed, his own wounds are now at least partly closed and no longer losing too much blood, so he feels ready for anything.

"I didn't kill any of those ripe-bellied haggards," the priest explains to Colwyn, holding his hand up to refuse the coin.  "Be a froggin sin to accept it ... and I'm not going to fight ye for it, mind."

Fergus, for his part, had unrolled his swag beneath the cart.  He tethered the oxen close by where the sleeping beasts could act as a serviceable windbreak.  The air downwind may not have been quite as fresh, but it was warmer.  After dinner Fergus crawled under the cart and seemed ready to go to sleep.  Until he realised that some of the ladies were planning to sleep curled in the shelter of the wall, at which point he promptly crawled back out, pulling his swag after him.  He insisted, as much as his nature allowed, that Eilieen, Erista and the Monk (and anybody else who could comfortably fit) should take advantage of the better shelter.

In the morning, Fergus wakes to the smell of breakfast and a light touch on his shoulder.  He stirs, anyway.  "Mm.  Hmm.  Quit it, that tickles."  Fergus then comes fully awake and sits up abruptly, as though startled.  For some reason his face has flushed bright red.  "Oh, it's you.  I mean...sorry Miss.  Um, good morning?"

Colwyn shrugs and drops Aarnr's share of the money, pitifully little though it is, back into the box.  "Suit yerself.  I'll jus' keep any spare coin in 'ere, an when we's got enough we can divvy it out.  Or if'n we needs ter buy summat big, maybe as we's 'avin' enough in 'ere ter buy it 'twixt us."

Then he hands the box to Corian, "Reckon yer's rich enough that a little coin won't be temptin' yer too much, so folks'll trust yer more'n they trust me.  Yer can sit on this fer all of us."

Corian accepts the box, his expression serious.  "I can assure you that this will be safe in my hands."  Then he changes the subject, "I believe we should set out as soon as we have finished breakfast.  Martin's directions indicated that it is quite some way to Grimwood.  Since we have the cart, we should probably take the road, which runs through the village.  It would mean going a little out of our way, but would likely be easier and faster than going across country by the more direct route."

"A bear, Aarnr!?"  Eilieen rocks back and forth as the power flows through Fergus, sealing and healing.  "I was pushed out of...never mind."  She could have been eaten!  But now is not the time for such considerations.

Fergus, at least, had been kindly enough to offer rest beneath the wagon.  Eilieen had demurred, leaving it to Erista and the Nameless Monk; while she has no personal problem with spiders, she didn't wish for them to nest in her hair, and there are a couple of fairly large ones under the wagon.

And the idea of squishing them just so she can get a single night's sleep under cover, well...that goes against the grain.

"Good morning, Fergus!" Eilieen chirps cheerfully, despite dishevelled hair and dilapidated dress.  Tickles?  Such a curious observation; she'll have to test that herself the next time she requires healing of her own.  "Your pardon, I only meant to relieve you of wounds' bites, not to..."  Her voice trails off and she studies his glowing face.  One silvery eyebrow cocks.  "Is there something the matter?" she inquires, nervously touching her bedraggled hair.  "Breakfast is cooking."

Zadastha's Smile, she must look horrid if he's so shocked and hesitant.  How embarassing for him.

"Where ?!" heeding Eilieen's warning, Aarnr is all ready to have at this bear but look around as he might, he sees no sign of the creature.  "I think you frightened it off," he sighs in disappointment.

The suggestion that they take the cart through the large metropolis that is the village does not sit well with the priest.  Fair enough if you're there to pillage the place, but he doubts his companions would be up for that.

"Thought we were avoiding the place on account of Fergus ?" he asks Corin hopefully, looking around to garner support.  "Perhaps we could leave the oxen free to wander around here and then pick them up when we come back ?" spoken as one whose only contact with cattle is on a roasting spit.

Unlikely he's going to be allowed to drive the cart, and if he's going to be walking anyway ...

Ozzy had slept well past breakfast, even through all the talk of bears. Finally, as the sun rises high enough in the morning sky that it finally breaks through the canopy and hits the little bard right in the face. He winces, recoiling from the brief moment of sun before it is once eclipsed by the building clouds. Ozzy lays under his blanket for awhile longer, taking his time in waking from the vivid dreams the night before. Lions, Tigers and Bears, oh my. A rabbit from a tophat...

For whatever reason, he now had a greater insight and understanding into the use of arcane force to bandage wounds, open small containers, find secret doors, even understand linguistics or pull a rabbit from a hat - all with a few key notes and combining them with the fluidity of his hands and the proper intonation of a few odd constanants and vowels. The last vestige of the dream slips away and he peeks out from under the blanket, his hair shooting off in all random directions and his puffy eyes blinking slowly. It takes him a little longer to pull on his boots and find his comb, but eventually even the late sleeping Bard loses patience. " Can we go yet?" he whines. He continues to bundle up his bedroll and pack, making sure everything is in place and properly stowed for a long walk through a spooky forest.

Corian eyes Fergus critically, "I don't believe we have anything that would fit you and serve as a disguise.  A pity, if anybody else could drive the cart, Fergus could lay down in the back and keep out of sight as we passed through the village."

"Travelling with the cart would certainly be faster, and would make it easier to remove anything useful from Eralion's manse."

Colwyn's head snaps around, his eyes seeming to grow larger as Corian continues, sighing, "I suppose we will just have to trek across the wilderness instead."

"'ere, Fergus?  'ow 'ard'd it be ter learn me ter drive that there wagon?  I mean it don't 'ave ter be good enough as I could get a job doin' it.  Just enough fer me ter get it round the edge of the village." the rogue explains.  "Way I sees it, yer could drive it near ter Fair'ill, then I takes over while you gets out of sight, an' I drives it 'til yer reckon we're past the village.  'ow' that be?"
This message was last edited by the player at 09:43, Sun 29 July 2012.

In the fens, a cart would rapidly become less a moving target and more a set feature in the landscape, while the oxen would make a very good meal ... but even so, Aarnr is still mightily tempted to take over the reins.

On the other hand, he's observed Fergus' skillful handling of the beasts for long enough to realise that in all likelihood with him holding those reins, the ride through the town would be a wild one indeed, and likely accompanied by much destruction of property ...

"I don't mind having a go !" the priest offers, though not quite swiftly enough, grimacing as Colwyn beats him to it.

Eilieen realizes that mentioning any bears she sees would immediately have them thumped over the head by Aarnr, poor things, and decides against so doing in the future.  She stifles a giggle at the sight of poor Oswald, dishevelled as he is; it would not only be rude, she ruefully reminisces, but hypocritical given her own situation.  Gods!  Why can they not find some useful arcane artifacts, like one capable of cleaning clothing?

Perhaps inquiring of Erista might bear fruit; the little mage might have knowledge of a cantrip of cleansing.

"Not to worry, Oswald," she cheerfully chirps.  "I am certain that once our gentlemen have decided on who shall be the drover, we will be off.  In comfort."  A pause for thought.  "Of sorts.  In the meantime, your breakfast?"  A bowl of warmed leftovers is passed to the bard.

At that precise moment, the rain chooses to come back, after a brief respite.  It sweeps in over the hillside, fine drizzle, more like an exceptionally wet fog than anything else, and unusually cold for the time of year.

Colwyn looks up at the sky and curses, "Nadgers!  Maybes we can learn as we's goin' along?  The sooner we's gettin' out of this the better."

"That is possibly the best idea I've heard this morning." Corian replies. "Anywhere has to be better than this gods-forsaken hillside."

"Yeah, even if we doesn't take the cart the whole bleedin' way, we can leave it on the road outside the village fer some bugger ter find.  Got ter be better 'an leavin' the oxen ter wander 'round 'ere on theys lonesome, with only owlbears an' things fer company."