Maeve meanwhile is delighted to find a bend in the river that forms a pool ideal for washing and swimming. The water is not only just about the perfect temperature but it is also deliciously refreshing.  As she soaks happily, fireflies emerge to create a lovely tableau.  Because of course.

A rustling from some nearby bushes heralds the arrival of a placid doe.  Moments later, an adorable fawn wobbles after its mother.

Oh, you have got to be kidding.

"I've changed my mind," Maeve calls back to the P.A.R.T.Y.  "Let's forget Baldwin's quest and just stay here forever."

Lyriel watches as Maeve happily splashes about in the pool in perhaps the most picturesque setting she had ever seen. OH MY GOSH! Is that a baby deer! Lyriel squees with joy and leaps off of Stony. Before running over to fawn over the furry woodland creatures she takes a moment to turn towards Boreas  still astride Stony, and gives him a very polite yet cheeky grin.

Say Boreas, it might be good for you to take a leaf out of Maeve's book and go for a swim; I even have some soap you can borrow should you desire, and I strongly recommend it. She flashes him another brilliant smile before skipping off to coo over the frolicking forest beasts.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 15:36, Wed 06 Aug 2014.

Boreas chuckles under his breath as the woodland creatures scurry away from an onrushing Lyriel, muttering under their respective breaths about the "stench of sandalwood on that one."

Hopping out of the saddle, Zuriel wanders over to the riverbank while Shahara splashes happily in the shallows, taking deep gulps from the crystal water. He rummages around in his saddlebags from some soap of his own and then heads upriver a short ways to find a place to bathe.

On the way he passes a distraught Lyriel looking after a fleeing fawn.

This place feels so...alive!

Despite Lyriel's laughable attempt at tact, the water does look inviting.  Boreas joins the others for a dip.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 43):

As expected, Keef's ears perk up at the mention of 'polymorph'.

Oh yes, ghere's LOTS of animals that could get everyone up there... a dragon... no, would scare the horses... a chimera?  It's LIKE a lion so horses should like it...

Zuriel calls back from slightly upstream. "Oooh, can I be a Chimera? It looked like fun. How many do you think we'll need to carry everybody? Would two be enough, do you think?"

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 45):

I suppose it just matters how many trips we want to take.  Being a Chimera is REALLY.... we'll you'll like it.  If it's cargo capacity we're after, we could go with a Roc...

Without further ado, Keef begins to encant.

(OOC: self into Roc, Zuriel into Chimera)

In reply to Keef (msg # 46):

After washing and scrubbing in the rushing river's only relatively calm section prior to its tumble over the falls, the P.A.R.T.Y. finds itself almost out of sunlight. This doesn't stop Keef and Zuriel from transforming into large flying creatures intent upon transporting the P.A.R.T.Y. down the steep cliffs that surround the waterfall and onto the sandy banks where the river resumes below.

It takes a couple trips and all of the day's remaining light, but by the time the spell wears off, the P.A.R.T.Y. finds itself at the bottom of the cascading waterfall, resting on the northern bank of an ever-widening river the flows westward from the waterfall. The island you saw from the top isn't even visible from down here, perhaps due to the change in elevation, but you're sure it's somewhere to the west.

The sandy bank isn't particularly wide, providing perhaps 15 feet of space before bumping into the cliffs that surround the valley, but it does look to extend to the west for miles and miles. The more you look at the river at this point, in fact, the more convinced you become that it eventually leads to a much larger body of water -- making this a bay.

Though the sun has vanished, you can see quite well by the illumination of a silver winter moon, full in its splendor, which causes diamonds of light to sparkle off the clear waters. The sound of nocturnal creatures fills the air around you, from the splashing of fish and the hooting of owls to the thrum of various insects.

The P.A.R.T.Y. can proceed down the riverbank to the west, scale the cliff to the north, cross the river to reach the southern bank (which is also abutted by the cliffs), or duck behind the waterfall to the east (provided there is a cave there, which is not at all clear). You may also, of course, make camp and wait until morning.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:13, Thu 07 Aug 2014.

In reply to DM (msg # 47):

Upon completion of their work, Keef dances circles in the sand around Zuriel See, see?  I TOLD you it's the best!

Zuriel returns reluctantly to his normal form, patting Shahara fondly. The charger did not enjoy being carried by Chimeriel, but accepted the situation with stoic steadfastness.

The paladin grins broadly at Keef. "That was fantastic! Flying is...pretty much the best thing ever. Maybe we can do it again tomorrow?" He yawns and stretches, looking at the expanse of the river, or bay, before him. "Perhaps we'd better call it a night, and plan on exploring the island in the morning? I'm exhausted."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:59, Thu 07 Aug 2014.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 49):

The P.A.R.T.Y. sets up camp on the riverbank (baybank?), taking care to keep their fire small and under control. Sentries are posted, though they have quite a hard time staying awake between the river (bay?)'s gentle cadence, the perfect moonlight, and the natural symphony all around them.

On Boreas's watch, two deer approach the camp from the west. How they got down from the steep cliffs to amble along the riverbank is not immediately obvious, but they watch the camp with large, soft eyes from a distance of about 50 feet. They make no move to come closer, but instead appear to be conferring with each other.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:43, Fri 08 Aug 2014.

Unable to hear more than faint mumbling, Boreas approaches the two deer, hands open, unarmed.

Good evening, friends.  How fare you tonight?

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 51):

There is a conversation, of sorts.

[Private to Boreas Highwind: "All is well in the woodlands," the doe replies. The other -- a buck with a handsome rack of horns -- bobs its head slightly in agreement. "For now."

The buck paws at the ground with a hoof for a moment, then flicks his head toward the campsite.

"You aren't treefolk, fey, or beasts," he says. "You stink of magic. Foreign magic."

The doe and buck exchange a look, then peer at Boreas intently.

"All but one. Who are you? Where did you come from? We have not seen you before."]
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:53, Fri 08 Aug 2014.

Boreas returns the buck's nod.  I come from the same place as they do, the Material Prime, another aspect of the world.  But part of me, I believe, is from here.  His eye glows.  I have come to learn more about it.  My friend here is Zuriel.  He has family here.  You say all is well for now.  Is there some coming danger that we should be aware of?

Zuriel raises his open palms slowly, not sure how one greeted a deer.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 54):

Lyriel hears a quiet stirring as Boreas heads to the edge of the forest, where two deer are standing. Raising up a bit from her bedroll Lyriel watches the conversation, a longing wistful look in her eye. She frowns, It's like the forest creatures are taunting me, perhaps I should stay here, lest my scent drives them away.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:27, Fri 08 Aug 2014.

Maeve continues to be asleep, unless someone actively comes to wake her up.  Not her watch, after all.

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 56):

The deer continue to speak with Boreas.
[Private to Boreas Highwind:
"Danger isn't coming," the buck says, looking over its shoulder briefly. "It has arrived. Fey flee the Basin of Wishes in droves, claiming it has been corrupted. The Brambles were burned, so the treefolk destroyed Du'driel and both sides are now at war. The elven champion Wildheart is powerless, his spirit flickering between this world and Gaia's embrace. In their weakness, order has fled. Lonethorn reeks of magic and men, and the centaur reavers are venturing further and further from The Strand. Even the moon-cursed have returned."

The doe shivers in the moonlight as the buck speaks.

"The Primal Voice is but a whisper... but it speaks of a glass-eyed man cloaked in strange hides and foreign smells. The Fairtheora."

They stare at Boreas.

"Are you he?"]
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:00, Fri 08 Aug 2014.

I could be.  The term is unfamiliar.  What is this man said to do?  It sounds as if everything is happening at once here.  What of the events at Lonethorn?  Have the men that overtook it... built anything?

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 58):

The deer continue to speak.

[Private to Boreas Highwind: "I'm not sure. Haven't been there myself. Men are always building things though, so I wouldn't doubt it. It's the absolute worst way to mark your territory, if you ask me."]

Yes, I suppose you have the right of it there. Boreas laughs. So what is this 'Fairtheora' prophesied to do?

Maeve is briefly awakened by the sounds of murmured conversation.  Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she sees Boreas conferring with a buck in the picturesque moonlight.

Completely unfazed by yet another unutterably lovely encounter with nature, Maeve snuggles back into her bedroll and drifts off once again.

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 61):

Snore.

In reply to Keef (msg # 62):

The deer chat a little more.

[Private to Boreas Highwind: "To keep watch for threats from beyond, and return at our darkest hour. It is said they will awaken and restore the Primal Voice... it has been waiting for you, if you are he."]
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:21, Mon 11 Aug 2014.