There is no response.  If Delfargo is here, he is not responding.

"Why would they have gotten out of the boat? Or where? It's got to be hard going up stream like they were."

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 156):

Heluvianal goes back outside and briefs Tol and Edrie as he sees them talking.
There is something about this place, like being back in the woods near my home.  It's the energy that flows.  I think Delfargo is Fey, not a bad one mind, some of us are really nice.  I like to consider that I'm at least part Fey.

I just get the feel that they headed up stream as though going towards my home.  Quicker by land but to get out of and away from the city, it would work but magic would need to be used.

He wasn't sure how right he was but it kind of made sense to him.

Tolantra pointed at Heluvianal when the green elf mentioned the forest. "That's why. The baron needed an unconventional escape route, because he knew that the whole town would be up in arms. Seize the boats, make it seem like they're going by water, then let them loose and take an unlikely overland route."

She turned to Heluvianal. "Can you lead us to your home? If we move quickly, we might be able to catch them."

In reply to Tol (msg # 159):

A shudder went through his body, would he be in trouble taking people to his home, would he have to answer for others?  Then realisation.

Yes, I can lead you to the place my home is in but I can not take you into the or close to the village.  There is a Dwarven settlement not far either but this is also hidden.  Leading you to the Woods would be my pleasure.  He wasn't sure if that was the right Tetiquiet (he wasn't sure how to say Etiquette but has managed once or twice before).
This message was last edited by the player at 13:59, Sat 26 Feb 2022.

This message was deleted by the player at 13:58, Sat 26 Feb 2022.

"Sorry, I mis-spoke. We don't need to go to your village. I meant the forest. I doubt the baron knows of your home, let alone would go there. But I think he's using the woods as an escape route."

She looked around at the rest of the group. "I know we were asked to investigate, but before we leave, do any of you have objections to a night chase into the forest?"

The Bladesinger grins eagerly, "Edrie and I can run and retrieve our horses from the stables.  Meet us at the Farmer's Gate.  That'll be the fastest route!"  In short order she drags the wizard along with her.

"...sure!" Edrie exclaims as she's yanked away.

The bearded priest strokes his long yellow beard and intones, "The Mother makes the sun for labor and the moon for rest. But when there are brigands in the fields, one may have many a restless night securing the fruits of honest labor. We shall do this thing."
This message was last updated by the player at 00:21, Sun 27 Feb 2022.

Let me know if you're doing anything in particular between here and the Farmer's Gate. Additionally, a marching order for the road would be helpful.

((ooc: I want to send a messenger to the Lawblade explaining what we've found and that we're chasing the baron towards the forest. Otherwise, I'm good to go.))

It's about 35 miles along the Shining Trail to reach the Laughing Hollow.  Riding you can make it in about eight hours--a little less if you're pushing it.  That should still get you there ahead of Baron Agwain and his party since they'll have to walk a ways by foot after abandoning their boats.

If you're looking for evidence and clues of their passing, you'll need to move about half-speed.

How do you wish to proceed?

Just want to get this choice made before I start putting together the narration.

In reply to Edrie Graf (msg # 164):

Edrie, we need to let the master know we'll be gone.  Thank you for volunteering.
Turning to Tol If we travel a few hours fast, I'll point in the right direction, I can transform into a mouse so there would be spaces on the horses again, after that, I'll need to guide you and we can slow to see if we can find anything around or do that first and then go fast?  Sorry, my mind is rushing at the thought of going near home.

Hooves thunder down the trail in the night as the party doubles down on their hunch. The Shining Trail is little used since the founding of the Delimbyr Route.  On the higher plains danger may be seen from far off.  Here the trail is thinly carved between the Sword Hills and the River Delimbyr. In those hills Uthgardt and Orc Tribes stalk one another at the base of Mount Illefarn and passers by may prove a tempting target for the young leader of a war band. And then there are the beasts that both tribes sing of in their camps, and more civilized men whisper of in dread.

Such hard riding is an unaccustomed trial for most. Edrie clearly deeply regrets this choice, and even the fierce Celadhel seems as worn as the horses are like to be at the end of this wild ride.  The horses are mouths froth from the effort, and their sweat freezes in your pants as your cloaks billow behind you.

Before long the trail plunges into a forested darkness and the pace must slow, the trail no longer easily lit by the light of Selûne.  This forest is as different from the woods around bowshot as night is from day. In Daggerford they say it is full of alien beings from the other side, and that desperate men may betimes seek the denizens here to assuage their anguish. The price the faeries demand is said to be dear--perhaps dire.

In the tales of dwarves they speak of fine marble and granite was once mined here after the forest had been clear cut in elder days.  They gave up those mines because the forest would always reappear.  Not regrow--but return. Their trunks and limbs exhibit idealized and fantastical forms, and the leaves seem watchful.

Here are the boughs in which Heluvianal was reared beneath the watchful peace of the King of the Woods, Melandrach. Melandrach himself is nearly mythical among the wood elves, his mind and body slipping between worlds as easily as crossing the threshold of a house.  These elves long since foreswore palaces for hammocks and wizardry for woodlore. But the woodlore of these woods is more magical than any secret in the books of the Yellowknife.

((Pausing here to allow for reactions.))

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 170):

As a mouse, Heluvianal snuggled into the Cloak hood of the nearest companion. He was warm, secure, comfy, tiny. He still felt the forest looming in the distance, the magic eminating through the lands surrounding the trees.

Climbing out of the Cloak, he notices the riders slow at the imminent darkness of the forest and changes back into his normal form behind the rider just before entering.

Home, this is my home, the eyes you feel on you are real, they are the animals, the trees, the plants, the people and the land itself. He then told then some important history (ooc: What the GM posted)

Heluvianal was strangely calm and almost floating in his words, different to the nervous, naive apprentice of the city.

Tolantra watched as Heluvianal transformed from a mouse into an elf. She was a little uneasy at the blatant display of magic, but had to admit a tiny twinge of envy as well. "That's a nice trick. Is that something all elves can do?"

Not getting down from her horse, Tolantra scans the trees and the trail around them. "Do you think we've gotten ahead of them? I have no skill at reading tracks. We can't press on at this rate forever, but if they're still beyond us we don't want to let them build a lead we can't surmount."

In reply to Tol (msg # 172):

No, well, I don't think Elves can in general.  It is just a trinket I have that works as you saw.  Very useful for disappearing and getting to the top of trees as long as I'm careful about hawks.

I can see if the peoples of the woods have seen anyone matching what we know of the Duke. I won't be able to get good details but should be something.  I'll need to walk in alone but won't be long.

Making sure he had some seeds and fruit, he walks away from the group and into the start of the forest.  There he whistled and chirped and tried to attract some of the denizens of the Forest.  It had been over a year since he was last here and wasn't sure if the friends of the woods would hear or listen, he could talk with them but not understand what they say, only try to get them to understand signs and signals for directions.  He gave it a go.

To Heluvianal's indigenous eyes it is not long before they find tracks marking the passage of humans. Spurred on, and seemingly renewed by evidence that their hunch was right the group forges ahead.  Suddenly, a volley of arrows flies over your head, obviously a warning to stop. A man rises from behind some rocks amid the forest to one side of the trail. He looks down on you. “Go back where you came from, folks,” he says. “The baron and his new lady want to be left in peace, and we aim to make sure they stay that way.”
This message was last updated by the GM at 15:42, Sun 06 Mar 2022.

The priest trembles with rage, "The Beasts of the Wild may choose their mates so, but not the men of the city. More is required than the wanton lust of a young lord! Let us pass! Or we shall play the shepherd to your ragged wolf pack!"

Celadhel rolls her eyes at yet another pastoral metaphor. "Be sure not to refer to Lady Bronwyn as an ewe when we're in her presence, Olaf."

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 174):

Indignant for probably the first time in his life, The Wood Elf couldn't help himself.

I am back where I come from, I live in these words and I'm escorting my friends, now get out of our way.  And for your information, we were told Lady Bronwyn didn't want to go with the Baron. Is that true?

He started out well, worked well in the middle and may have fallen at the end.  He was puffing his chest out and walking forward, his bow in hand.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:28, Mon 07 Mar 2022.

"What's my Lord's business is none of yours! Be off or you'll be feathered--but we have no need of tar!"

Tolantra grinned at the man. "I want to thank you. Here I was, uncertain whether or not we'd gotten ahead of the traitorous baron. And here you are, a helpful signpost. Now stand aside, or the crows will take your eyeballs." As she spoke, she glanced around surreptitiously, trying to mark the locations of the other would-be ambushers.

The speaker smirks and speaks, "You talk like a farmer, Goldilocks.  Compost him!"

Six arrows leap from the brush betraying the positions of the rearguard.  Two before, and two to either side, each spaced about twenty feet from the other. Half of the arrow find their home in Olaf's flesh before a second flight of arrows springs up. On the second shot they each pick a target.

The second arrows all miss their mark.  The most well aimed is lodged in the Tol's breast plate, but the dwarven steel held true.  Still, there will be a bruise.

Roll initiative.

((The bowmen are about 200' off, and will require a charge if you're going to hit them this round with a melee weapon))
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:40, Thu 10 Mar 2022.