Marklin was still gawking at elves, He had heard of elves, but never thought to see one, let alone ones that flew around over over sized Owls. When one of the elves asked a question. Marklin responsed with a concise and appropriate answer. " Ye be Elves! Gods honest to goodness Elves!!. Look mates, Elves. And they fly." Said the Warrior, sounding like a kid that just discovered chocolate.

Eoni tried to conceal a grimace brought on by Marklin's exuberance and replied, "As you can see by my colleague's reaction, you're the first elves that we've seen.

"We've been following the Rhest trail, or at least as much as we can find of it," she swept her arm out to encompass their soggy surroundings, "and seen no sign of anyone else before this beast assaulted us.

"We'd be happy to help you search the area.  If owl and rider were attacked as one, Lanikar may be nearby."

Valthur thinks to himself that the missing elf was most likely a small snack for the greenspawn razorfiend they just defeated, but he holds his tongue. He always found elves to be a bit pretentious, but the likely demise of Lanikar called for at least a small amount of respect.

Sarah peers around whoever she's hiding behind (likely Aldara) to peek at the owl-riders.

Aldara shifts and sighs when Marklin makes his exclamation, and gives the elf a look as if to say "don't mind him".

Taerix remains silent, nodding at Eoni's offer to help the elves look for their missing comrade.

The elf grabs the jade band from the slain owl, reads it, and appears sullen. He turns away from the adventurers and spends a few moments examining the slain razorfiend. With his back to the adventurers, the elf says, "Lanikar would not have willingly left his owl behind. I suspect, as much as it pains me to admit it, he met his fate at the jaws of that beast over there..."

Turning now to face them, he introduces himself as Killiar Arrowswift of the Tiri Kitor tribe. The other elves remain quiet during the encounter and keep their distance from the adventurers, obviously ill at ease with them. These elves are wild and primal in appearance, quite unlike the elves that sometimes pass through Elsir Vale from distant lands.

Killar exchanges brief greetings with each of the adventurers and remarks, "It is quite fortuitous and suspect you have entered our lands, in dark times such as we find now. Speaker Sellyria will want your accounting of The Speaker of Eth's message and the War you claim sweeps across human lands."

The elves behind Killiar exchange startled glances between one another, a few muttering beneath their breath.

Killiar holds up a hand to silence his companions and continues, "Will you come freely?"

"Of course," Eoni agreed with a bow of her head.  "We would be honored."

Other than the loss of the horses, this was going better than expected.

Valthur clenches his teeth, eyeing the elves behind Killiar with suspicion. "Come freely?" he mutters to Marklin. "Makes it sound like they'd try bringing us there by force if they had to."

Sarah continues to hide behind her companions, moving positions as necessary to avoid interacting with the elf.  However, when the elf is focuses on another person, Sarah peers around whoever is serving as her barrier to peak, exhibiting a combination of shyness, curiosity, and fear.

If the elf finds her and talks to her, Sarah does not respond.

Assuming there are no objections from any party member, Killiar silently gestures to his five elven companions, and in unison, they dismount their owls and proceed toward the slain owl. With a brief explanation, Killiar says they need to properly see to the Liokio's final disposition. Working silently and with great efficiency, the elves prepare the funerary site--a bed of dried reeds and kindling. Then, they hoist the lifeless owl onto the makeshift pyre.

Once Liokio is atop the pyre, the elves break out into a solemn chant, the words of which are a mystery to the gathered adventurers. Despite this, the feeling evoked by the elven chants brings to mind a spiraling chain extending across the great exapnse of the heavens above, unbroken through the passage of time.

Flames leap up from the pyre, bathing the great owl in a wreath of fire, while tiny whorls of orange and scarlet are carried away with the wind. Through this, the chanting continues, and day soon blends with night.

It is near dusk when the rite is complete.

Again, Killiar gestures to his elf companions and they move back toward and remount their awaiting owls.

"It is time. We leave," Killiar says. The elf hunter gestures for the adventurers to approach the owls.

"We cannot bring the pony. Turn it loose. There is plenty for it to graze on here. It will live or die by Melora's hand."

Eoni is nonplussed about leaving the sturdy pony behind after all it's been through.  She could at least give it the best chance to survive after removing it's tack and bridle.

The Sister placed her hand upon the pony's head and intoned, "May Avandra discern our words and make us of one nature.

"[Language unknown:  Etpepo mo e ineous'reawas o Ilngha Ouseauhou. Ilro, atenc rea tiowhestr lesmi ev m arenotday illounart.  Ckest la n omday actaat ssbehint nautcataom."]

Kissing the pony on the nose, she turned it about and gave it a gentle shove in the direction they'd come from.  The saddened Sister then turned to approach the owls and their riders.

[Private to DM Pawn: You can add an animal language category in case she uses this in the future.  For now I've grabbled some gobble gobble from elsewhere.

Speak with Animals.  She can speak with horses for 60 minutes, not owls.

"Thank you for all you have done.  Unfortunately, we must leave you now to return on your own.  Go back the way we have come and find someone friendly to love you.  May Avandra watch over you."]

Aldara attempts to reassure Valthur that the Elves don't mean what he thinks.  It's probably just a matter of context, things being lost in translation, and the like!  Just like certain human idioms being lost on Halflings.

 Marklin's fascination quickly evaporated, when Valthur spoke to him. " Do ye think they mean to take us against our will? Just let em try," Growled the Warrior to Valthur.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 22:42, Wed 04 Apr 2018.

"Hah," Valthur concurs, strengthened by Marklin's bold words. His chest puffs out slightly knowing he and Marklin are on the same page.

His buoyed confidence, however, quickly fades as Killiar instructs them to approach the owls. He stands his ground and watches his companions to see what they do.

Giving the Elves an apologetic look and drifting her eyes in Valthur's general direction, Aldara approaches.  Being a little familiar with the lore of the Elves, the mage is not too alarmed by the owls, but she is nonetheless cautious.  She'd only met a small amount of Elves in her entire life, and up until very recently generally only dealt with Halflings in any appreciable capacity.  And these Elves were unlike those she'd met before...

Once she is in a spot to the Elves' liking, Aldara turns around to (nonverbally) assure her companions that everything is more than all right with the large, taloned creatures and the nigh-immortal beings!  In particular, she looks at Sarah.

[Private to GM: If you're looking for an opportunity to do something embarassingly funny, now is your chance!  ...just don't scare Sarah too much, the last time we scared her she wouldn't get down from the tree until the Fire Department offered her biscuits.  That was a long night!]

 Marklin looked at the large owls with a new light. " Ye want us ta ride those over sized pigeons? Not bloody likely,mate. I'll walk."

Sarah's curiosity prevails, and she approaches the owls as the elves indicated.

Killiar narrows his eyes, his face assuming a mask that is equal parts contempt and bewilderment. "Stay your tongue, outlander. You do not know our ways. As a guest of our realms, I grant you this trespass. But, I warn you now, future insults will not be met with such charity."

Having said his piece on the matter, Killiar adds, "Walk if you wish. It makes little difference to me. We need but one of you to deliver the Speaker of Eth's message." He turns his attention to an indistinct point on the horizon. With a bemused gesture, Killiar adds, "Our village is that way...oh, yes. Mind the lizardfolk tribes and bullywugs that will most likely be about, to speak nothing of other, more dangerous menaces you are sure to find during your walk through the marsh."

He then smiles and laughs to himself. "By my reckoning, if you survive, and if you don't get lost in the maze that is The Blackfens, you should arrive at Starsong Hill in three days..."

"Good luck..."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:36, Fri 06 Apr 2018.

The owl rotates its head sideways to regard Sarah as she approaches, but does not otherwise seem to be startled or agitated by hus approach. The wild elf already astride the magnificent animal nods reassuringly, as if to say, it will be quite alright.

 Marklin decided then and there, he did not like the smirking Elf. But be that as it may, the elf had made his point,and then some. " Fine! I changed me mind, I guess we ....fly." Gulp.

Sarah hesitates as the owl looks at her, and she tries not to look into the giant bird's eyes for fear of losing her nerve.  Emboldened by the elf's reassurance (and his seeming understanding of her hesitancy), the girl does her best to clamber aboard.

Killiar nods in recognition of Marklin's sudden change of heart. "Do not look so glum.  Not many are afforded this honor. These are strange times. Come. Let's not keep Speaker Starsinger waiting."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:35, Fri 06 Apr 2018.

Seeing Marklin agree to mount one of the owls, Valthur concedes, as well. He shrugs his shoulders and approaches, doing his best to refrain from anything that might be perceived as aggressive toward owls, although he has no idea what such an action might be.

"And to think a couple days ago I was worried about riding a horse," he mumbles to no one in particular.

Despite a few party members apprehensions and misgivings about the prospect of flying on the backs of trained great owls, eventually everyone concedes this is the best course of action given the alternatives. The wild elves are patient if not taciturn with their charges, communicating primarily through gestures, grunts, whistles and the occasional word when absolutely necessary. Save for Killiar, none of the elves appear to want very much to communicate with the adventurers and would just as soon see their task through to completion as quickly as possible.

So it is with little fanfare the wild elves alight, with outlanders astride their magnificent mounts, into a dusky orange and purple sky...