A tinge of sadness crossed her face as she gave Muninn back to Valoria.  "My mother taught me a bit about the outdoors before she became ill.  I'm much better with animals than plants, or even people for that matter, but I know the basics.  I can find north, fresh water, that sort of thing.  I'd be happy to show you what I know.  I'm sure there are a few things you could teach me as well.  We could swap ideas."

"Skill is not always necessary to keep one alive. Survival instincts are always a necessity." Aris responds, tying at one of her laces that has become loose. "It is better to hold off on practice. I would hate to lose any arrows out here and one can never be too careful. " she adds, looking around with a sniff.

She pauses and sits more upright. "Come, we should all become better acquainted with one another. "

OOC: I misread your earlier statement about madness so I will momentarily edit that post. That said, I imagine Cyrus feels like he can't win here :)

"We wouldn't want to be wasteful, hopefully we won't need every arrow we carry but I would hate to reach the last one and regret target practice. I am what you might call an open book, I am glad to discuss anything. Where would you like to start?"

"Well, how about starting with where you have come from, what led you to the career you have chosen and where you learned to use those weapons you carry?" Andalon suggested. "Or as much or as little of your story as you wish to share."

"Certainly! I hail from Restov. The Ondari's fought for generations alongside the Aldori Swordlords. My great, great, great-grandfather Donovan Ondari died at the hands of assassins targeting Sirian Aldori. The sword and shield I carry were his." Cyrus paused briefly thinking fondly of his heritage, that fondness was clouded as he began again.

"Since that day, the Ondari's have faltered. Donovan's son and grandson were both warriors but lacked his discipline and commitment. Over time, the Ondari estates dwindled and with them, our voice in the court of Restov was silenced. My father has tried to regain a voice through other means... When I learned of his actions, I demanded Donovan's weapons as my inheritance and left. I will return to Restov when I have restored the honor of the Ondari name."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:17, Thu 14 Apr 2016.

Andalon bowed slightly in acknowledgement of Cyrus's tale.

"A noble quest indeed. I wish you every success," he responded.

"I've made no secret of the fact that my family are merchants in New Stetven, not too far north of here. It was always assumed I would join the family business eventually as well, but as I am the fourth son in my family there was never much chance of inheriting that business in future. My tutor was a young cleric of Abadar and, as merchants, my family has always paid strong devotion to his church, so there was no dissent from my parents when I decided that was to be my vocation. I like to think they are quite proud of me for making that choice, actually. Now Henry's quest seems to sit very well with the Abadaran mission to bring the benefits of law and civilization to the wilderness, so I am here with the church's blessing, too."

He grinned a bit sheepishly as he added, "My equipment doesn't include any family heirlooms, unfortunately. This is basically what I was issued with when I served in the city watch as part of my clerical training. I bought it as used equipment when I completed my training."

"The priesthood is a noble profession. My younger brother had made the same decision until my departure. I have heard he is now at court by my father's side in my stead... You trained with the Watch in New Stetven? I bet you have quite a few stories from those nights!"

The pause between thoughts was prolonged and clearly emotional. Though Cyrus had maintained a cordial presence throughout the end of his story, he was clearly now trying, and failing, to deflect his own attention away from thoughts of his family.

"I'm happy to be in the company of those trained to defend themselves.  My beginnings aren't as grand as yours I'm afraid."  Zorah motions to Cyrus and Andalon.  "As a child I lived in a small cabin at the edge of the forest."  She paused and then backtracked.  "Sorry, the Gronzi Forest.  Back home it's just the forest.  We could hit the Icerime Peaks in a day or so walking.  My father met my mother in the forest.  He stayed in the forest for her and made his living bringing lumber to town from the forest.  I remember my childhood being very happy.  My father always told me a great outlook will carry me a long way."

"My mother took ill a few years ago.  My father went into the forest to fetch some plants to make medicine.  My mother was quite good with that sort of thing, she taught me only a fraction of what she knew.  I'm sorry to say my father never returned.  I still have no clues as to what happened to him, but without the medicine my mother passed away."

"I found Murdock that winter and raising him from a cub kept me occupied.  I was old enough to take care of myself, but still a young girl.  When spring came my mentor found me, I suppose he raised me from a cub so to speak.  He wasn't always straightforward with his teachings or motivations.  One day he was gone and I found a few more friends, Sedgewig, Wilson, and Puck.  When I heard about this mission to the wilderness it sounded like a great opportunity for me to find some interesting creatures."  The smile never faded from her face as Zorah told her story, even through the sadness.  It's clear her positive attitude carries her along in life.

"A strong outlook indeed! Maintaining a smile amidst that kind of loss, it is no wonder these animals adore you... You mentioned a mentor, who was he? What did he teach you?"

Cyrus was impressed with the stories of his traveling companions. A 4th son committed to the faith and out to bring civilization to the wild with a wizard cousin, a young girl who raised herself to some extent, and a drow. Henry had indeed done a fine job recruiting for this mission.

"I'm not really sure who he was, just an elderly elven man.  He showed my how to connect with the animals on a deeper level.  I suppose it's similar to Muninn, but to a lesser extent.  He also showed me a small amount of magic that nature can provide to those who know how to listen to the trees and the animals.  I would guess he was a druid of the forest, but like I said, he was a mysterious man and never spoke much of himself.  I was just happy to have someone helping and teaching me at the time."

"As for my mother.  Of course it was a sad time in my life.  Dwelling on those feelings wouldn't have changed the past.  It was best for me to move past that part of my life."

"It seems to have found a family that travels with you. It must be a great comfort to you, particularly on long journeys and in times of hardship. It is clear how they trust you. A great honor, as animals are often particular in whom they favor. " Aris'ta says, crossing her feet at the ankles and leaning back on her hands. " A rare light in an otherwise dark world, as some are inclined to say. "

"I'm sorry to hear about your parents, Zorah," Andalon responded sympathetically. "That would be very traumatic at any age, let alone while you were still so young. I am glad that your connection with nature, and in particular with Murdock and these other animals, has helped you to deal with your loss. But I am curious about the magic you can draw upon. Do you meditate or pray to a particular deity or to the spirits of nature or is that magic drawn directly from the natural world around you?"
This message was last edited by the player at 06:23, Sat 16 Apr 2016.

Listening to Zorah's tale of woe, Valoria really didn't know what to say. What a terrible thing to happen...She didn't want to be rude by reading her tome at a time when Zorah was speaking of her dead parents. Instead she just sat with Muninn as the thoughts of her own lost home ran through her mind. Perhaps they would all find a new home together in this...stolen land.

Zorah nods her head as Aris'ta speaks of her animals.  "I don't think the light is as rare as we sometimes make it out to be.  We just need to learn how to spot it.  It's easier to find something you surround yourself with, makes it more familiar."  Her apprehension to the drow had begun to disappear having spent some time together.  Zorah knew there were always exceptions, as Aris'ta may be proving to be, but tradition dictated the half-elf to be wary of drow and orcs in particular.

"I suppose my magic is a mix.  I've never really thought about it.  I respect nature and spirits because that's how I was taught as a child.  I do spend time each day in meditation as well.  Where I draw the magic from is unclear.  My mentor wasn't one for prolonged explanations... or really explanations at all."

"Thank you all for your kind words.  Maybe we should hear from the others before I fill an entire book with stories of just my own." 

Next day the group move on, slowed slightly because Keston and his guards are on foot, although their gear is loaded onto the  the long suffering pony and distributed as extra load among your horses, so they march encumbered.  Tib keeps his eyes peeled and manages to bag a rabbit and pigeon along the way.

The next night is spent at an roadside camp-site,   there are signs of a recent fire,  probably from the group that travelled earlier, a small fresh stream and  bushes for firewood. The game is roughly skinned and butchered and added to a pot of water to make a very basic game soup to supplement the dried food for dinner.  Out of all of you, the birds eat best, getting to feast on the innards of both creatures.

Henry assigns a shift roster  but the night passes without incident , and after a breakfast of porridge you are on you way, expecting to make it to Oleg's at about lunchtime, or a bit later.  However, your journey is interrupted, when you see a young man, dressed in yellow and gray robes, standing atop a rock defending himself from a pack of wolves with a bastard sword.

”Is that Moto?” Henry asks rhetorically as he shades his eyes with his hand and looks towards the scene.

"What's a Moto?" Andalon asks.

OOC: How far away are the rock, the wolves and the Moto? Within bow/crossbow range?

"Moto was one of the people with the previous group."  henry responds in a puzzled voice.  "It certainly looks like him ..."

OOC -  You are 500 ft from the wolves.

"It looks like he needs help," Andalon replies. "Whatever his story is, we won't hear it from a corpse. Come on, let's see if we can reach him in time."

He is not enough of a horseman to charge to the rescue but he does his best to persuade his horse to move in the right direction.

Zorah agrees with Andalon.  Even if this isn't the man Henry thinks it is, this man needs help and he hasn't given Zorah any reason to deny him that.  She squeezes Puck with her legs to prod him forward, following behind Andalon.

Cyrus could tell this man was in danger and he too tried to push Shadow forward, but the wolves seemed to be intimidating the horse. He would only advance at a trot.

Valoria looked up at the man, this Kesten Garess as they eat. Still she tried not to judge him to poorly based on what she heard. In truth, her father had done the same and now it was herself that was in exile for knowing about it. Valoria read her tome by the light of the fire and eat the “food” that was provided.

The next day, when the wolves where seen Valoria made sure to stay behind the rest of the group. This was a most dangerous road.

Brother Bartholomew starts chanting softly, calling down the blessing of the Lady of Graves on your heads.  Then he moves towards the rear of the group with Valoria, although he readies his morning star -  just in case..

OOC -  Bless: +1 morale bonus on attack rolls and on saving throws against fear effects.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:59, Wed 20 Apr 2016.

"Come on   ...." Henry shouts, as he kicks his horse into a gallop towards the site of the attack.

Tib pauses for a moment as he considers the range, but decides against missile attack, instead he kicks at his horses sides and urges it into a a gallop behind Henry.

In the distance The figure that you all assume to be Moto, continues to slash with the large sword that he holds in both hands.  he strikes one of the wolves, but another sinks its teeth into his calf, before releasing its hold and withdrawing back out of sword range.