Gilrak - spurring his horse with his heels - manuevers over to the position indicated by Garryn.

Aidrin begins moving in the direction Garryn had motioned. While walking he removes a piece of leather from a pouch and mutters under his breath.

OOC: Aidrin casts Mage Armor on himself.

In reply to Garryn the Grey (msg #59):

Totmacher breaks out his Composite Longbow and tracks with Aidrin.

OOC:  Kev - is there any cover nearby (a map perhaps) in the direction of Aidrin?

Asher smiles at Garryn's choice to leave him front and center, I do love to fight 'casters he muses to himself. Then he strides a few paces up the road and assumes a "cat stance", rolling the thunderstone in his palm.

Perrato shakes himself from his reverie and reaches for some savory rations and fresh water to offer the famished girl. As he looks her over for signs of more serious injury he attempts to interpret the gestures of the pack leader and glean his intent.

As Asher stands readied and staring up the caravan trail, his mind buzzes with pre-battle adrenaline that has become so familiar since joining this group of travelers. Nothing moves in front of him but the grasses at the edge of the cart paths, waving in the breeze. Suddenly, he is reminded of his Master Yoshu's words, "grass not waving. wind not waving. mind waving."

Unnerved and agitated, Asher stands and turns on his heel, striding towards the wagon and the girl. He stops five paces short of her and speaks, "How old are you?"
This message was last edited by the player at 15:54, Tue 09 Sept 2008.

Totmacher, sensing the troubled Monk's condition, holds up the skull of his brother and calls out:  "Don't fret Monk, Vil will protect you!"

In reply to Asher Willbourne (msg #65):

The little girl slowly raises her eyes to Asher, her gaze blank and her face a tabula rasa.  Asher's deep-rooted intuition and calm empathy sense, emanating from the girl, only a profound shock and the merest grasp of her surroundings.

The party and its various mounts are on the ancient east-west caravan route of Arret, approaching the Dead Foal Steppes.  The land slopes, gently and gradually, up to a small rise, and then dips down beyond that.  Further to the east, the open steppe country can be seen to continue, rising and falling in frozen, topographical waves dotted with sagebrush, twisted oak and mesquite, and rocky spurs.  Closer at hand, a small grove of white oak surrounds what might be a small spring.  In the middle ground, the caravan trail winds through a locally dense growth of bitterbrush and creosote bush.  A bit to the south and east, a series of rock outcroppings break the thin, arid skin of the steppeland soil.

Map is here

Looking to the terrain stretched out in front of them, Gilrak nods in the way of Dryland Oak Grove - "Looks to be a good spot to me.."  With that the Dwarven Ranger looks to the rest of the party for feedback.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:19, Thu 18 Sept 2008.

Asher blinks a few times slowly as his suspicion subsides. "I...", he starts as he tries to find the words to comfort the traumatized waif... Unable to find the words, he turns again to take his position on the road.

In reply to Gilrak Kilring (msg #69):

OOC:  If the witchman and/or emptiness is about 1500 feet away that would put it just beyond the "limits of visual range."  Totmacher opts to position himself in K6 just on the edge of the "Dryland oak grove."

Is anyone in the party interested in climbing one of the trees to get a better vantage?  Maybe Caylin or Garryn?  Can Fiach provide any info on the speed of movement of the human and emptiness?  Also how much cubic feet does the emptiness consume?

Totmacher and his mount begin moving towards K6.

Gilrak moves forward - taking cover behind the tree located in L5/6

This message was deleted by the player at 14:15, Wed 21 Jan 2009.

In reply to Gilrak Kilring (msg #73):

Are you sure you wouldn't rather take cover under the tree between L-M, 5-6?

I think Kevin might be waiting for your to make another adjustment.

This message was deleted by the player at 14:15, Wed 21 Jan 2009.

This message was deleted by the player at 00:43, Wed 21 Jan 2009.

Gilrak draws the humid early evening air deep into his lungs.  Upon exhale, the Ranger cranks his neck to one side and then another - his spinal column responding in compliance with a loud cracking sound that can be heard from the road.  With a satisfied smile, the dwarf readies his bow for what lies ahead...

Various members of the party melt into the surrounding landscape, or take a stand on the ancient, dusty caravan trail.  Sitting on his shoulder, Aidrin's raven nervously preens its feathers and grumbles to the mage, and the companions wait.

Soon enough, the small figures of a man and woman crest the rise to the east, walking along the road towards the party.  The woman seems graceful and sure of her movements, but the man marches along in an uncoordinated fashion, throwing his arms out occasionally in spasmodic gestures.  As the two draw nearer, a veritable rictus of a grin can be seen plastered across the man's features.  Some 200 feet away, he calls out.

"KRIANNA, MY POPPET.  COME TO YOUR FATHER!  HA HA HA HA!  I HAVE A TREAT FOR YOU, MY DEAR, YES I DO!"

The woman stops and looks hard at the man, who--oblivious--continues to move in his herky-jerky gait.  She catches up with him.

Seen more closely, the man appears to be in his late thirties, a brown beard covering the lower half of his face, but no mustache adorning his upper lip.  He is clad in a simple brown tunic and leggings, and seems muscular in a peasant-like way.  The woman is a petite, dark haired woman--pretty, but tired-looking.

The woman looks around, then calls out, "Krianna, dearest.  Heed your father and come to us." On the wagon, the girl Krianna cowers down, whimpering.  The woman, her eyes gone steely, notes this.  The man bellows out again, idiotically, the grin still distorting his features, "HA HA HA, DEAREST.  YOU SCAMP!  PLAYING A JOKE ON US BY MISBEHAVING!  WHEN I CATCH UP WITH Y0U, YOU LITTLE IMP, I'LL TEAR YOUR FUCKING HEAD--" The man, still spastically moving towards the group, is caught up abruptly by the woman as she seizes him by the nape of the neck with a hand and arm grown grotesquely large.  She peers about.

"Adventurers!" she hisses.  Her form wavers, and the pretty, petite woman is replaced by a looming, blue-skinned woman with long, tangled hair, black and pupil-less eyes, and massive, taloned hands.  She uses one of these hands to cradle the entirety of the man's head, halting his forward progress.  "Thrice-damned piece of meat!" she hisses to the man.

Raising her voice, the thing with its taloned hand engulfing the man's head, calls out.

"The boy is mine already, the man's soul is in my hand, the woman's blood has freed me, and the girl will die a long, slow death without my intercession.  I want my heart back, and these lives will ransom it for me.  Speak with me, mortal-kin!"

Krianna, huddled in the wagon, continues to moan in a low voice.  The blink dog leader materializes beside her, gently nudging her down with his nose and licking her face.

Aidrin searches his vast stores of magical knowledge for record of this... creature... standing before the group.

14:21, Today: Aidrin ap Gynwir rolled 12 using 1d20+8. Knowledge arcana check.

Unfortunately, Aidrin's vast stores of magical knowledge do not include any specific information about the creature confronting him.

Sound like they are significantly closer - where are they currently located on the map?

The raven cocks its head and grumbles to Aidrin.

In reply to Totmacher of the Wilds (msg #82):

The thing and its man are midway between the dryland oak grove and the thickets of scrub/shrub vegetation--ranging from 180 to about 250 feet away from the various party members.