"Perhaps not at all" Lureene said. "I remember some stories of the sack of Conyberry and there was an elf paladin there who might be our Agatha. She is recorded as Lady Telera. But that is speculative."

She leaned back in the saddle and took in the sights as they rode. "Beautiful landscape, is it not?"

     Rihala shrugged at the history lesson and scanned the landscape.

     "It is indeed.  I love nature, forests particularly.  Most cities are a blight on the natural world.  The elves seem to come very close to living in concert with their environment though.  I'd love to see an elvish city up close."
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:46, Mon 29 Sept 2014.

"I'm sure it would be a wondrous sight", Lureene said with a chuckle, "but don't dismiss the beauties of human architecture. Waterdeep is quite a sight! Many of the noble homes are very finely named, and the Temple of Beauty is a sight to behold. I'd hardly call it a blight!"

     Rihala sighed.  "Stone pulled from the earth and mangled into unnatural shapes.  Trees cut down and ravaged into mere planks ..." she started, then closed her eyes and bit her lip.

     "Sorry.  I'm sure it's lovely to you.  But I prefer the unmolested magestry of nature."

Lureene tsked. "Not all nature is beautiful and we cannot make bas-reliefs without wood or statuary without stone." She smiled. "Besides, the parties are certainly better in cities." She paused, thought about that, laughed. "Unless you chance on a party of satyrs, I imagine..."

     "All nature has a purpose, and that makes it beautiful," she said dismissively.

     She raised an eyebrow at the 'Satyr' comment.  "Because the 'devil girl' must consort with the other honred creatures?" she replied.

Lureene laughed at that. "Hardly, no! Because I'd wager they know how to throw a fantastic party", she elaborated. "I imagine it would be rather wild, of course, but some of the things that happen in Waterdeep..."

     Rihala signed, choosing not to further a conversation about the hedonistic tendencies of Satyrs.

     "How much further do you want to go before we stop for the night?  It's too late to push the horses to get us to the ruins by nightfall," she asked.

"Let's find a good place to camp as soon as the night starts falling. We've no reason to rush, there'll be plenty of time to get there tomorrow", opined Lureene.

     In agreement, Rihala began watching the trail for signs of fresh water.  She wanted to find them a nice spot where they could water the horses, fill their waterskins, and possibly find some berries to supplement their rations.

OOC:  Outlander with the Wanderer feature.

About an hour before nightfall, you come across a small stream... only about one foot wide, that crosses the trail. It flows left to right.

Just below the trail, Rihala sees signs of an orc camp. It's crude, more of a mess than a camp, bones and feces scattered about, though nothing a good rain won't mostly get rid of. She estimates 4-6 orcs... probably 6 but can't be sure. The camp is about 3 days old, and the orcs seem to have continued south.

They made a small damn in the stream that would have created a small pool of water, though she has no idea why they did that. When they left, they broke the damn, but didn't bother getting rid of the evidence.

Going upstream for about 50 yards reveals a rocky outcropping with a little overhang. The stream actually tumbles down over it. It is also a good place for berry bushes, and Rihala finds a number of blackberry bushes in the area.

     Rihala pointed out the old orc camp and destroyed dam to Lureene, explaining that it had been a group of six orcs three days ago and they had left to the south.

     "If they're heading south, they could be heading toward Phandalin.  But if it's been three days, to pursue them through the underbrush with our horses would be difficult.  You don't happen to have a way of sending a message back to Phandalin, do you?" she asked.

     Rihala collected berries near the outcropping, and investigated behind the waterfall.

Lureene frowned and considered the question. "I'm afraid I have no such magic, though perhaps there is no need. I may be daft, but if they were heading towards Phandalin, they'd have reached it after three days, and if they'd been delayed, we ought to have met them along the way. Unless they were scouts trying to remain unseen?"

She pondered some more then shrugged. "I don't see how we can warn the town without turning back. You're quite sure that they shan't return? I don't fancy fighting six orc brutes."

     "If they went south from here, they'd be going through forest terrain, not a road, so it might have slowed them down.  Also, had they wanted to remain unseen, they would not have left this very obvious camp behind," Rihala reasoned.

     "Clearly we are no match for them and aren't likely to catch them.  But I will see that their defiance is returned to a more natural state," she said, intent on cleaning up the orc's mess here tonight.

"Aye, we should restore this place's beauty", Lureene agreed. "Orcs have no respect for anything unless it kills.", she signed.

"But we should also be on our guard. I like little the idea of camping in their own spot."
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:26, Thu 30 Oct 2014.

It does appear as if the orcs had wanted to keep an eye on the trail, which is why they camped so close to it. If you camp upstream, it won't be the same spot, and it's not a place the orcs are likely to look if they return.

More than likely, they are heading for the orc base up in the mountains.


The night passes uneventfully, and you head out in the morning. You come to the edge of the village ruins just past noon. Your first sign is an old burnt out farmhouse.

Lureene fished the comb from her pack and made sure it was in a belt pouch, close at hand. "We're almost there. I'll admit to some trepidation. I've not encountered a ghost before. You?"

     Rihala scanned the farmhouse for signs of nature reasserting itself.  She wanted to try to roughly determine just how long ago the fire had occurred based on the regrowth of plant life.

     "I have not either, but I hear they can be quite formidable.  Caution is always a good idea.  I believe her 'hut' should be north of town," she said, urging her horse along.

"Let's leave the horses? They wouldn't much like to face a ghost I'll wager, and the last thing we need is them panicking and bolting."

The farmhouse burned down many years ago, at least ten, but the plants have been slow to reclaim the area.

     "Sure.  We can tie them up here and come back for them when we're done," she agreed, guiding her horse to a fence post and dismounting.

     She changed out of her traveling clothes and into her leather armor, hanging a handaxe from her belt and strapping a dagger to her leg.  She left her quarterstaff with the horse, but brought an ornate spear.

Tying up the horses doesn't seem to bother them. If there was any obvious danger, they'd be skittish.

That's not to say there might not be something lurking in neighborhood, but the horses can't sense it if there is.

You walk down the old road through town until you come to what was probably a walkway between two buildings. It meanders down around the building, but there seems to be an animal trail leading off from it heading northwest into the forest.

"Well, I suppose that's our path then." She adjusted her red tabard over her mail armor, and checked that her mace was loose at her belt, though she didn't think it would be of much help against a ghost. But there were orcs roaming about, too. "Let's not tarry."

     Rihala kept her spear at the ready, carrying it in her right hand over her shoulder.  She glanced around attentively at the ruined town.

     "I wonder why they left the town abandoned after the attack.  Maybe this banshee had something to do with that?"

     Out of curiosity, she moved to the right building and peeked inside, holding up a small flame in her left hand if light was needed.

The stone walls of the building are still mostly intact, but the roof has collapsed inward, and there are signs of fire damage.

In fact, most of the buildings show signs of fire, but there are also a number of areas that looked like they'd been smashed apart.

Heading down the trail, the forest grows dark and still as you move deeper into the trees. Heavy vines and thick layers of moss drape the branches, and the air is noticeably colder than it was in the ruined village.

After walking about 20 minutes, you round a bend in the trail and see a screen of warped branches standing close together and intertwined with vines into a domelke shelter in the shadows. A low doorway provides access to the interior.