The next two and a half days are spent travelling fast through insanely inhospitable territory, it's only thanks to the Condor Braves and Saxaul's help that they make it through without any serious mishap. Game, fodder and water are scarce and it's a hungry party that begins to make the arduous decent to sea level.

First one set of cliffs and then another, each hundreds of metres high, the way down a tortuous winding path, where a moment of indecision or distraction might end in a fall to certain death.

It's on the morning of Wildday...Raven's holy day....That the Rangers come out of a set of dusty gullies leading to the last cliff, still a half days travel away, when they all spy in the distance a vast expanse of shimmering greeny blue, stretching as far as the eye can see.

It must be the Sea.

No one has prepared them for it's vastness, nor the salty tang carried on the first cooling breeze they've felt for weeks. It spurs them on to tackle the last cliff, it's trail depositing them on the edge of mangrove covered mudflats. The valley floor and indeed to some extent the plateau above had consisted of dwarf pines and flood resistant hardwood forest, choked with tinder dry scrub, thorns and low brush. Open areas can be seen:  mixed grassland, chaparral, and bogs. The grasses look chest high and untouched, since few nomads venture down into the valley during Sea and Fire Season, preferring to keep to the upland pastures instead.

As they descend the braves can see the silvery sparkle of the Zola Fel shining through the expanse of dense vegetation filling the extremely wide valley floor, where it quickly separates into hundreds of channels winding their way to the Sea. Flocks of colourful birds fill the sky and here and there plumes of smoke drift up from the undergrowth, each marking possible villages and camps.

The largest collection of smoke: a greasy looking smudge some 15-20km away to the South West, looks to be a large community, perhaps the rumoured new settlement that had worried their elders back at the Bison Khan Grasslands. A Farsee charm brings the mangroves into sharp focus, showing there to be a collection of high sided rock islands dotting the groves. It's hard to tell thanks to the smudge of smoke and heat haze, but it looks like there's a village on one of them.

Despite the breeze it is still disgustingly hot and every time the wind drops the air fills with clouds of annoying, biting flies and midges. A wind now filled with the stink of rotting vegetation and fish, no doubt coming from the sun cracked mudflats that spread out along the coast.

Looking immediately West the Rangers spy several plumes of smoke, closer than the others, where the river first begins to split, perhaps 8-10km through the daunting tangle of brush, thorns, dwarf pines and tangled hardwoods. The rest rise from deep within the delta, which by the looks of it will need boats or rafts to navigate.

Decision time.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:09, Wed 22 Oct 2014.

Ohhh, the good old Zola Fel. He breathes deeply in the breeze, savouring the hint of moisture in the air, as surprised as the next brave by the tang of salt and the sheer vastness of the watery prospect to the south. Think there might even be a boat out there. Too far out to be sure, though. Dormal-traders, I imagine.

Anyway, our brief was to scout so let's check things out. Can't say I'm keen on seeing those dirty buildings here. Lapsing suddenly into Trade after a long break from it, he adds If you are chaining the land, do it right like Pavis and not this sloppy work.

He looks round nervously, realising that any building here is not a welcome idea in present company. Trying to cover the lapse from another part of his life, he adds quickly: Unless we wipe them out, we'll just have them sending for reinforcements if we attack. Don't want Lunar trouble when scouting. At least I assume we're taking a look-see?

Still, first things first, and that means food. Anyone find anything dead and rotting, let me know. Unless Taya nabs it, I might just be able to use it to dredge up some wildlife from a creek if I'm lucky. Want a creek anyway: need a wash if I'm to look respectable enough to talk to anyone passing along here.

"Lets just scout and re-supply. Our work is too important for it to be ruined by a raid gone wrong." Tarnessh suggested

As they reach the bottom of the final cliff and then fan out looking for trails Ohanzee easily discovers one heading West though by the looks of it it is a trail that hasn't been used for at least a season. Still, cutting young growth is easier than cutting old growth.

When they all gather again he tells of the trail he's found and then in answer to Hoskar he says dubiously "I don't like the sound of feeding on carrion eaters dredged up from some river, with luck we'll come across some game before nightfall."

Then to the question of what to do next "Why don't we press on and find somewhere to settle for the night?"

"Do these people stay in one place all the time or would those further out this way visit the bigger settlement at all? If they do we can take slaves from a small settlement with little risk and find out about the larger settlement from them."

"But then we'll have to feed and take care of them." Tarnessh whined.

In reply to Hoskar Feather (msg # 2):

"If I help you find some, whats it worth?" comes her sleepy answer.

At least down here we can find something to hunt, even if it isn't like the game up on the plains. Maybe best to capture lunars to question them about these settlements before we ride in and run into big trouble. Yes, lets find somewhere to camp and hunt from before long.

When he first see's and smells the sea he is momentarily speechless, though he is snapped out of his daze by the swarm of insects buzzing around him. He covers his mouth with his hand, "These bugs are everywhere. We should camp on a rise so there is a breeze to keep them away." He gets a very reluctant Stinky to follow the group down to the bottom of the cliff, "We should press on looking for food and somewhere to camp, then tomorrow raid and get information"

Amara nodded "I agree with Melock. Rest up today and tonight and have a look around and raid the place tomorrow. It will let them know that this is our land and they are not welcome. We will recover things to take home and get information from those that follow the red moon." Amara seems quite bemused by the sea and the boats.

When he hears Amara agree with him he almost falls off his bison in shock, but manages to hang on and tries to make it look like he was trying to swat all the little bugs flying around him.

Tarnessh nodded. "Amara's plan is good. Lets do that." He said simply. "Perhaps we could take some time to scout around the area while we look for a campsite as well."

Shaking his head rather sadly, he hears his friends thinking of raids and glory. Funny way to scout unobtrusively - maybe it's something else I need to re-learn about outside-the-wall.

I still say we're here to look, but if you want to get raiding I reckon I'm in. Just let's not cause too big a mess: if these folks have been planted here, something too deadly will just bring soldiers down the river and put more trouble in the tribe's way when they try and pass through: moon people or their sunny boy allies.

If it is raiding time, I think Amara has nailed it for the plan: need to know exactly where we are and get ourselves fed if we're going to be a dose of trouble for the locals.

Wonder if I can find any food. Coming, Four Paws? Want to bring your friend? Maybe it'll work if you start something from the undergrowth and I bring it down.

Slipping off his noisy hauberk if I wear that, I'll only catch deaf game and horny snakes, he makes to start a sweep for food and trails.

A quick scout about the immediate area turns up several available routes into the deep bush. Ohanzee, Hoskar, Tarnessh and Amara find small individual trails, old but ones that shouldn't be too hard to clear. It's as they investigate and consider these that Salen finds another...

Partially hidden by an old stand of particularly gnarly Cypress, the Condor brave has discovered a fresh trail through the brush. It's huge, with dwarf pines pushed out of the way and the ground churned by the passage of something of enormous size.

A dinosaur or even several, their deep footprints leading off into the mudflats. Scanning the expanse of stinking ooze the braves are thankfully unable to see the creatures, so hopefully they have moved off somewhere else.

Like the other four smaller trails it heads westward into the brush, towards the far off river and plumes of smoke.
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:46, Thu 23 Oct 2014.