"And sick bakers toss thy cookies," the quiet foxman added as he uncomfortably slid from his horse.  If Kora was big and uncomfortable, the much smaller Talrand seemed as greatly uncomfortable, and even less graceful, despite delicate form to Kora's power and size.  As Talrand had ridden, he had done so with an expression of... guilt?

Silver-white furred hands removed a pair of saddlebags that he hadn't touched on the trip, nor loaded with anything - not too dissimilar from the lack of needing to use the fine quality composite shortbow or its quiver of arrows.

"If thy mount is over-burdened, Kora, please, share onto mine.  This fine fellow deserves more than to be troubled by mine attempts at the riding."  He set the traces loosely around a tree limb that permitted the equine to tuck into more rich grasses while he brushed away marks of the day's travel, then stowed the sundaries.

Soft, careful steps brought him to join the others around the fire, adjusting his dark leathers as he tucked his cloak beneath his bottom for cushion to sit upon the rocks.  Firelight caught his deep, forest green eyes as he attempted to settle without finding a suitable position.

Moonflute appears reasonably relaxed while riding despite the additions of saddle and other oddities. She spends the bulk of her time taking in the scenery despite the apparent blandness of the season, and listens for any sign of wildlife that are active.

Moonflute is an athletically-built Kagonesti elf with long, brown hair and hazel eyes. Around her neck is a Medallion of Habbakuk. She wears a suit of plain, leather armour as her only visible protection, and carries a gnarly old club on her hip. She has a shortbow slung over her shoulder, and a quiver of arrows. Moonflute has dozens of red sigils and marks on her body, either tattooed or in red paints and clays. Some are in primitive shape of birds, others undecipherable. On her forehead, she wears a circlet with a centre stone that shines a deep red.

The elf listens passively to the conversation and banter but keeps to herself for the most part.

Kora turns in his saddle to Talrand "I think not. All I carry is a few days of feed along with my normal kit. Given that these are bred to carry knights and their own barding, I may be a lighter load than it normally has. As for you, Caitlin, know that I ofttimes face the most dread of undead, but what fame I may lay claim to is due to my skill in the healing arts."

The frank talk between folk, being straight in sharing abilities, openly carrying their faith and bearing symbols of faith - Habbakuk, Majere, the horn of Kiri-Jolith - and a sorceress open about her different path of Art riding beside an elven white robe... that honesty bespoke much of the group.

"Mine path follows the natural world, guided by instinct of the earth in mighty Chislev, and heeding this wisdom of words and wind granted in understanding by his consort Zivilyn," the foxman spoke in his light, but serious, carefully-controlled speech.  He gave up on finding a comfortable position, and rose, stepping over his fallen log seat, and giving himself a bit more distance from the fire.

His back arched, and his silvery-white fur darkened to midnight black as he reached upwards toward the night sky...

... And doubled, quadrupled in size, shifting from a moderately-sized arctic foxkin into a towering equine body, over six feet high at the withers of Percheron-styled body – very solid and broad, but refined and sculpted muscle that spoke of fine breeding and powerful work –with a swarthy human torso extending another three feet to something just short of ten feet tall.  The face of the "man" portion was dark, bearded, but still sporting the rainbow hues of scarf that the foxkin form had sported.

With his true form released, it seemed mirth was the default expression, and his deep forest-green irises measured the world, absorbing what it had to share.  The centaur’s equine body was thick and broad, with solid legs to carry his weight, although he did not move with the restriction of one bound by muscle - rather fluid and graceful as water around rocks in the stream.  His hair and tail were dark black, fading into his equine body, although, as noted, currently in scarves of bright colour from the day.  The centaur likely massed close to a couple thousand pounds.

The shortbow and quiver of arrows still girded his back, tho now were saddlebags atop a harness over his equine back provided carriage.  A simple wooden lance sported a colourful pennant, but lacking any form of symbol - simply colour.  None of his clothing or equipment appeared exceptional value, simply serviceable.

"Ah, but that freeth the soul as well as the hooves," the powerful voice boomed down.  He reached around to pull forth a very old-looking tome, and tilted the fallen log up to serve as a reading table.  He held up a powerful hand, palm out, and continued in apology.  "It is so confining to be as thou art normally - but please taketh not offence.  When one is used to racing the wind upon one's own hooves, the limits of two feet are significant.  But mine honesty permits - they are much in preference for traversing towns and low lintels, ho ho!"

As the arctic fox spoke Caitlin listened, however, when the creature changed its form she immediately became suspicious, lowering her spear in a defensive stance the mercenary was ready to strike if whatever it was to become, proved hostile. Fortunately that did not happen and Talrand explained himself. With a deep frown Caitlin accepted his explanation, her mouth slightly open in surprise. She hated surprises. For a while she was at a loss for words. Eventually she turned to her horse, which was peacefully drinking from a puddle, "I hope you are not turning into a dragon when I'm not looking." she told her mount, patting it on the neck.

https://i.ibb.co/nnLXZJZ/Caitlin-Forest01.jpg
This message was last edited by the player at 11:49, Sun 15 Oct 2023.

Kora rumbles "that's a surprise. Someone once tried to tell me of an outer planes humanoid with multiple limbs called a githyanki, I think it was. As I recall, we were amid a storm at the time, and it was hard to hear. She tried to warn me about looking a gith horse in the mouth. Do centaurs have notoriously bad breath?"

"Oh ho! Most a-moo-sing, mine friend," the centaur chuckled back in his booming manner.  "Mine answers perhaps only when we eat minotaurs in our attempts to seek more cowbell?"  Talrand chuckled at his own jest, his green eyes twinkling at the fireside mirth.

His hooves shifted position in an absent-minded habit as he carefully turned pages -no flipping here- into the start of his tome. Although a fairly large book, his great size seemed to recenter and balance perspective... if one did not think overly about it.  One thumb slowly rotated an onyx-black ring upon the middle finger of its hand, but there bore little else in finery upon the equine-human.

Woodland hued travel clothing peeked out from Keliantharas's white overgarments like a forest shrugging off the snows.  Silver and ivory beads hung mixed in with Keliantharas's tidy if mismatched braids bound together with a simple tie to keep them out of his face.  A single string of amber had escaped knot, and Keliantharas had casually tucked it behind one ear.  Silver braces gleamed on his wrists, catching the light on finely worked edgework and worked runes with each slight movement of the elf's arms.  With but his staff and a small crystalline knife, the wizard looked woefully unprepared for a night in the wilderness, let alone in the inclement weather.  That is, until one realized that wizards tended to finger-wave such problems away.

While not especially trained for horseback, the wizard had spent his fair share of time riding and managed to roll his weight gracefully along with the beast's lumbering stride.  With his natural grace, Keliantharas even had the gall to make it look easy.  Hands casually entwined with the reins were far more involved with steading Keliantharas's reading material than instructing the horse.  The elf didn't seem particularly engrossed in ride, chatter, or reading material, his expression serene on the side of bored across the pun-heavy banter.  He would dutifully throw out a thoughtful sound, a 'I suppose some wizards go for that sort of thing,' and then slide his book closed and exchange it for a different tome.  Based on the cover alone, Keliantharas might have been somehow carrying dozens of tomes, or just two.  Even when the day's ride came to a close, Keliantharas seemed to have more reading to brush up on.

The only act that gave the wizard pause was the fox-folk's sudden and drastic transformation.  The tome slid shit as the wizard's stormy gaze passed over Talrand, a slight rise in one of the elf's eyebrows.  With that peak of interest, alert vigor seemed to spread through the silvanesti.

"I suppose the fox form is far more practical within the confines of town."  Keliantharas mused aloud, his own voice more the hollow sound of a chorus of disturbed spirits.  Spirits for whom the common tongue was still foreign and new.  "Why a foxkin, specifically?"

Kora is confused. "What is a cowbell? I thought it a type of flower?"

"Thy question beith a fair one, friend," the centaur's deep tones rolled out thoughtfully.  "The form needed to be smaller than mine own, and of two legs to manage the many steps and doorways of town.  Shape-changing is not mine naturally, so options were limited by the magics granted me.  The... the forms I can manage are only so far from mine true form.  The foxkin folk I met were kindly, and a stronger natural world bond than most two-legs... that connection was sufficient for me to ... reach their form through the granted magic.  Humans and elves...even most minotaur forms - they are simply a step too far away from what natural world I can reach presently.  Perhaps such will change in the future, or perhaps it is the limits of magic available to me.

"Either way, it is not a subject of complaints, but appreciations in having a more mannerly path through the storms of the world.  The last few years would have indeed been of greatest adversity without the ability to transmorph myself into a form able to more easily pass within human towns."

Caitlin was still a bit shocked from witnessing Talrand's transformation. Not that she had never seen a shapechanger, but the feeling of having been deceived lingered in the back of her mind. Rather than commenting further on the situation, the sorceress busied herself checking the straps of saddle and made sure bit and bridle were fitting well to avoid unnecessary discomfort to her steed. The mercenary reached into the saddlebags her horse was carrying and pulled out an apple, red and ripe looking. Deftly she split it in two and fed one half to the animal "There you go." she cooed, attempting to convince him to trust her. For a heartbeat she considered reaching out to the centaur, offering him the other half but she figured that would feel awkward. Instead Caitlin leaned against her horse, biting into the apple and continued being amused about the two monstrous humanoids' banter.

As they were talking, they heard a tree falling in the opposite direction. As their eyes were drawn to the noise, they were also drawn to the ruins beyond the trees.


[OOC: In the game map, I have photo of what you see. Or at least sort of what you see, as this is winter and the photo was taken in spring/summer.]

The elf gave a thoughtful chuckled.  "I can appreciate the sentiment.  The first non-elves I encountered will always have a special place in my heart.  Though funny how one becomes so clumsy with one's belongings when traveling with kender.  Perhaps you will allow me sometime to observe your transformation under more isolated circumstances."  The last statement came out with an intonation that may or may not have made it a question.

The sound of destruction caused Keliantharas to turn, his staff moving from casual grip to fighting ready.  At least, what wizards thought of as a fighting staff with a weapon - the elf kept one hand free and poised to fling a spell.  Or, to those who knew him better, several at once.

"We should investigate."  He announced, when no foe immediately presented itself.  However, he made no move towards the noise until at least one other of the party did so.

Caitlin looked quite relaxed while she munched on the fruit and listened to Kel making an offer to the centaur. She frowned when she heard the noise and noticed the ruins that had escaped their notice earlier. Quickly she gave a sharp whistle, letting her feathered companion know that she should come back as quickly as possible. "Guess that means we are going to take a look." the mercenary stated in a matter of fact manner, then offered the remainder of the apple to her horse, which gobbled it up greedily. The sorceress was quick to get back into the saddle "Are you coming?" she asked the others as if she was daring them to object.

Talrand looked to the sound, then the others, taking their measure visually as Caitlin had verbally.  "Perhaps so, companion Keliatharas, and agreed.  Hmm.  Are thine eyes able to see the temple lying in same direction?  Investigation indeed seems prudent."

A long centaur arm reached down to gather a leaf, putting it as page marker within his tome before he closed and returned it to the satchel upon his back... which must have been near empty, for it did not noticeably expand.  The turned-over section of fallen tree was likewise returned down to its previous position, and Talrand's hooves carried him casually across the clearing as the others roused.

The centaur's mighty size was silently remarkable again as his equine portion showed a good couple feet higher at the withers than the party horses, and his human torso raised above that.

"It is unseemly thou wouldst ride unaccompanied.  In courtesy, I will moderate mine speed to maintain with thee."  The latter comment was perhaps a jest?, for his draft horse-sized frame would be unlikely to match swiftness of fast riding horses, but the tone did sound supported by intent to be courteous, and he did not simply dart into the woods towards or away from the loud sound.

Tavion sat comfortably atop his horse, enjoying the journey after being in Flotsam for so long. The camaraderie was a fun change of pace as well, and though Tavion remained mostly silent, his keen eyes and perceptive nature took it all in.

As the distant thud of a falling tree reverberated through the air, Tavion visibly tensed, his grip tightening on the reins. He opened to mouth to suggest they investigate, but was too slow, so he simply followed the others.

Kora starts, then observes "the chances of a tree simply falling when we pass by is extremely low. But something getting spooked by us and knocking it down is more likely. Shall we take a look?" He inexpertly turns his horse towards the ruins and starts in that direction, senses alert.



12:42, Today: Kora rolled 21 using 1d20+16.  Perception.


This message was last edited by the player at 19:42, Fri 20 Oct 2023.

Moonflute nods and heads with the others to inspect first the fallen tree.

Tavion tightened his grip on the reins, his eyes scanning for any potential threats. "Kora, not many beings—aside from one as formidably built as you—could fell a tree so effortlessly," he said cautiously.

Because of the vegetation, they couldn't go straight to the ruins past the fallen tree, so they rode around and came to the ruin from a different direction.

[OOC: You enter the photographed area from the left, between the two walls. And the part of the ruins that you saw before is behind the camera.]

Soft-falling hoofbeats tracked Caitlin and her mount alongside Talrand's entry; the crisping vegetation was a comforting sound in the blanket of stillness.  He looked about, listening, feeling the air.

He made no motion to draw bow or spear or other weapons, instead proceeding with a relaxed, attentive manner, and testing footing(hoofing?) as the others gathered.

"A goodly age.  Any of thee have sight of tracks or aught explanation of the cause of the tree falling or actor?"

---

OOC: explore ahead, keeping pace with the others
DM, are we snow/clear ground/leaves/etc?

[No snow or leaves on the ground.]

Tavion dismounted and knelt down, his eyes scanning the ground for tracks, or anything else which might have disturbed the area.


21:03, Today: Tavion rolled 24 using 1d20+13.  survival check for tracks. (22 for anything that's not tracks)
This message was last edited by the player at 12:46, Mon 23 Oct 2023.

The sorceress frowned briefly, wondering if they wanted to encounter anything that would be able to fell a tree in what seemed to be one blow, but then again it was odd that they could not see such a creature immediately.

She saw Tavion getting off his horse and checking for tracks, hoping that the frozen ground would not make the task impossible. Checking this way and that she was holding out for possible threats.