"No magic," Eilieen muses. She slowly turns in a circle, feeling out the area - why waste the prayer?  "Curious features.  Not entirely un-appealing, though the likeness could do with some positivity in life."

Her lips purse.  "Assuming he's still alive."

"I can manage the cooking," she hastily puts in before Aarnr volunteers.  He hasn't, yet, but might at some point and the idea gives her shivers.  "My thanks, Arkan.  I shall take the last watch, being the cook now."

It'll give her time to get ready in the morning.

"Mind, Erista has a point.  Statues are normally where they are for a reason, so I find myself somewhat concerned...but it's dark, we have water, and perhaps this area is a sanctuary.  So long as we keep watch, shouldn't everything proceed well?"

Silly question, of course.

"Do ye think we could get the bat-fowlin', churlish mumble-news in the cart ?" Aarnr asks, not sure either that his companions are up to the task of lifting their end, nor that their transportation will take the weight.

"I heard Dwarves turn to stone when they die," the priest informs Erista of this important fact, though he'd be the first to admit that this statue is not a Dwarf, unless it was a very tall specimen.

Cooking is fairly easy, just requiring the application of fire to whatever it is you just killed, but even so Aarnr is happy for someone else to do that.  He's gathered enough wood today too, for Ozzie's funeral pyre, so he doesn't want to do that either, but in any event he's got to feed and water the oxen as he promised Fergus that he'd look after the beasts.  As luck would have it these two seem rather good at drinking from the stream and cropping at the grass, but it's easier for them if they're not dragging the cart around with them, besides which someone has to tether them and tie the rope to something solid, be it tree or statue.

Colwyn laughs out loud.  "They's callin' me a thief in some places, but I wasn't never thinkin' of stealin' no bloody monnerment.  Yer bein' my kind of cove Aarnr.  Yer's thinkin' big."

He considers for a moment, "Some ol' king from that there Tarkanen place maybe." he suggests, then, "No... 'e aint wearin' no crown."

Bilfro, who had been suspiciously quiet since declaring it a statue, harrumphs where he sits on a fallen log - having carefully checked it out for crawly things.

Another harrumph and the alto singing commence, soft and sombre.

    In days of yore I walked this land
    that you may call your home
    I strode forth valiantly as
    a giant amongst men

        They put up statues of my guise
        so I’d remembered be

    I ruled the land I was its king
    my name was known to all
    But now it is since long all gone
    And all forgotten is

        It is the way of life and death
        It is the way things are

    I lived I died and I once knew
    the paths on which you walk
    I ruled the land I was its king
    a giant amongst men

        But never shall I see again
        the land I once did love
 

Silence then embraces the figure on the log, the gaze lost in the flames.

(https://soundcloud.com/ittybit...known-statue/s-N2I3x)

The priest is somewhat confused as to how Colwyn might consider taking this obviously abandoned statue as stealing, but as a subscriber to the "have what you can hold" philosophical school, isn't against taking and keeping ... and in any event is pleased to be complimented.

Bilfro's song, on the other hand, is a cautionary tale, showing the importance of living your life so the goat-faced, tickle-brained huggermuggers couldn't forget you if they tried.

Both men's remarks do rather beg the question, though ...

"This ruttin' pud," he nods at the statue for clarification, "must've been someone froggin' important or froggin' rich if he's got a statue of him.  If not a gorbellied king then who do ye think it be ?"

Musing over Bilfro's song, Arkan kept his eyes on the statue until he hears Aarnr speak. Turning to glance at the warpriest he says, "I don't recall seeing anything like this particular statue before, but if I had to hazard a guess I would say it is hundreds of years old."

Raising a gloved hand to scratch his chin he adds, "And for some reason it reminds me of ogres...though whether its the shape or just the size I am not sure."

"A statue of a fobbin' ogre ?"  Aarnr looks up at the stone creature with gruding respect.  "It must've made quite an impression on the puttocks round here, then."

Colwyn squints and scratches his cheek, "Size'd be right, but 'e ain't quite lookin' like none of them ogres what we were seein' afore.  Fer one thing, 'e's 'avin' britches."

He waves the torch in the general direction of the statue.  "See where 'e's bein' standin'.  'e's on one of those there stone blocks. only most of it's bein' 'id in the grass an' maybe as it's bein' sunk in the groun' a bit.  I's wagerin' as if someone was goin' over that there stream, they'd maybe be findin' some writin' as'd be tellin' us who the bloody 'ells 'e's bein'."

"Then we can all be 'avin' a bite ter eat, an a bit of a kip."

Eilieen, after a moment's fascinated staring at Bilfro, draws herself up.  "Well, ogres or not, I shall see if there is any writing."  Studying the stream with some annoyance, she finally shrugs.  "My boots need a wash, in any case."

She's going to mend everything tonight, anyway.

With that, the priestess sets out across the stream to have a look at the statue's base.

splash splash splash

OOC - If something eats me, I shall be briefly disappointed.   

Eilieen wades across the stream and discovers that the water level only rises above the top of her boot at one point, when she steps into a depression hidden by the swirls and eddies of the turbulent current.

A quick survey of the surrounding area reveals no dangerous animals lurking in the long grass and wild growth (at least none that are clearly visible in the gloom, so she approaches the statue.

The plinth stands about a foot above ground level, but may extend below the surface.  Pushing the grass and weeds aside, the priestess bends closer to examine the block of grey stone...

"Ugh, ugh," the priestess mutters as she sloshes ashore, one boot made vastly more uncomfortable by the watery intrusion.  Limping to the statue whilst murmuring words under her breath - none that any would believe could fall from her lips - Eilieen leans over, squinting, and runs her fingers over the stone.

"Certainly there are markings," she calls out over her shoulder.  "But I lack the light to see.  Might someone bring a torch this way?"

Erista looks doubtfully at the river, and then takes out her sling and one of its stones.  With a quickly stated, "光," the stone begins to glow, and a brief whirl and toss sends it flying towards the priestess with none of their usual deadly force, but rather a gentle arc in hopes she might even be able to catch it without having to dig it out of the taller grasses.

Reading is a vastly overrated talent, and Aarnr is of the firm opinion that it's better to have minstrels sing your praises than note them down in dusty tomes the likes of which any mean clerk or magistrate might scratch in.

Though he will admit it seems unlikely that there's anyone lurking in the thick undergrowth poised to leap out and provide an impromptu rendition of the life and achievements of the ugly statue.

Erista's trick with the illuminated stone is a good one ... and something he'll bear in mind in future.  It'd certainly be funny, if rather unsporting, to send a few arrow shafts towards any opponent whose attention is drawn to a glowing pebble lobbed in their direction !

The priest strains to hear what Eilieen is muttering under her breath, happy to be amused.

Arkan watches Eileen enter the water and wade forth investigate the plinth and the markings thereupon. Flexing a gloved hand he stares at the water with narrowed eyes in case something nasty decides to surface for a meal.

"Nice move," he says to Erista as she launches the glamoured pebble. "Is that enough for you to read by Eileen?" he calls out to the priestess, ready to use a spell of his own in case she is still unable to make out the markings.

The priestess of Zadastha responds in the affirmative to Arkan's question.The luminescent pebble is certainly sufficient to illuminate the markings.

"Thanks," Erista replies, blushing just a little.  "I'd have taken it over, but..."  She gestures at the water.  "You know.  Calf-deep for you guys is waist high to me."

"Thank you, Erista!" Eilieen lobs back across the water, after a momentary start at the appearance of a glowing pebble next to her.  Squinting, she tries to work through the glyphs.  "I cannot translate these!" she cries back to the group.  "Perhaps another might - they seem to be more runic.  Aarnr, what of your people's runes?  Does anyone else possess a facility with language?"

"I speak all sorts of languages!" does Bilfro squeaketh.

"Although, runes are rarely spoken, except in the company of fellows named Rune-eh...  Or any other such combination, such as Rune-eh-the-Prune, although that was more of a nickname for a fellow in the village next over from the neighbouring village where I briefly stayed for a couple of semi-quarter half decades to research how fungus interacted with fire under water during a thunderstorm, which I must admit was rather underwhelming as far as dramatic and epic events are concerned and yet, yet had this tantalising quality of making you wonder what could, nay, would happen if you use more or less of any of the elements involved, except for Rune-the-Prune, of course, because he was quite a few straws short of a hat, if you know what I mean, and by a few I mean a whole brim and a half," he elaborates, tapping the tip of his nose knowingly.

A brief pause to inhale and a confused look.

"What was the question?"

Erista pats Bilfro on the hand that isn't tapping his nose.  "It's a lucky thing you have your whole hat," she says.  "Eilieen was hoping you could go over there and read her a story.  Apparently there's one carved onto the statue."

Colwyn successfully makes a laugh sound like a cough, and all too clearly doesn't look at Bilfro.  Instead he moves to the edge of the stream and calls out, "Eilieen!  Don't be touchin' nothin', in case there's bein' traps!  I's goin' ter be comin' over fer a look-see!"

Eventually.

After Eilieen has had a chance to trigger any traps that might be over there.

Blinking, Eilieen considers both Bilfro's offering - or whatever it might have been - and Colwyn's warning.  "I shall certainly avoid touching this filthy statue," she reassures the man.  Although...glancing around, the priestess grimaces.  Had there been traps in the area, it's fairly certain she would have set them off.

Well, she'll wait anyway.  Colwyn can still ensure the statue itself is safe, and perhaps Bilfro will get it together enough to peruse the writings, though what information he'll receive (and the group will receive from him) she has no idea.

Oh."

A vigorous shaking of the lump at the top end of the neck ensues.

"Never said I can read runes, merely stating they are not actually spoken."

A brief pause.

"I can't read runes," comes the clarification, in case it was unclear.

What might be a sweet smile spread across Bilfro's visage like fleas on a mutt, only much, much faster.

Resisting the urge to smile at Bilfro's admission, Arkan merely sighs as he keeps an eye on the waters around Eileen in case anything nasty lurks therein.

"I don't think there are any traps Colwyn, perhaps you should take a look see and try to decipher the runes. We don't want our healer catching a chill," he advises Colwyn.

It was a pity he hadn't looked over a certain spell he had that may have aided in this situation, at least if the runes were of a magical nature.

Once he's had time to give some thought to the situation (and for Eilieen to not unleash terrible doom upon herself just by being too close to the statue) Colwyn walks away from the stream a short distance...

Then a bit further...

And a little further still.

Then he runs, flat out, towards the water.  At the last moment he throws himself into a  long. low, leap... and lands with a splash about two feet short of the distance.  He falls and ends up prone in the long grass at the water's edge.

"Bloody boots is bein' filled with water now!" he growls, before crawling forward to look at the statue.

Aarnr looks around in puzzlement.  It might be dark, but he was fairly certain his night vision was no worse than anyone else's so it's rather annoying that he can't make out what everyone else seems to see so clearly.

"What froggin' ruins ?" he asks, at length, watching as Colwyn jumps in the stream and noting he nearly missed it.  Undoubtedly something to do with the decadent tradition of bathing.