"What is it, Aerendir?" hisses the herald, peering about him uneasily, "Come on, let's just get out of this forest before it gets too much darker."

The elf, who has slipped nimbly from his saddle, sword drawn, seems content to ignore the herald, so the knight, himself dismounting, repeats the question.

"What is it?" he asks in a hushed tone, drawing his own blade, "Bandits?"

"I am not sure," the elf replies idly as he approaches the undergrowth to the left of the road, "But someone has lumbered through here recently," he frowns, "And made a rather poor attempt to cover their tracks. Wait here, Prince Marabir. I shall investigate."

OOC: Aerendir rolled 36 using 1d20+20. Survival.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:33, Fri 11 Jan 2019.

Marabir frowns as he follows after Aerendir.

"I told you, it is 'Sir Varonil' while we are on this quest," he murmurs, "I cannot risk people knowing my true identity."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 04:54, Fri 11 Jan 2019.

Aerendir glances back to give him a dubious look before turning back to the trail he is following.

"I might be more convinced of your desire to travel discretely if you were not so insistent on carrying that jewelled sword of yours. Who but a prince would use such a blade? Still, if you insist, I shall address you as Varonil from now on."

Marabir frowns, clutching the hilt of his bastard sword a fraction tighter.

"I do," he says stubbornly.

"Um... I'll just wait here then?" calls the herald from the road.

He does not receive a response.
This message was last updated by the GM at 06:59, Fri 11 Jan 2019.

"There," murmurs Aerendir as they move deeper into the forest.

OOC: Aerendir rolled 36 using 1d20+22. Spot.
This message was last updated by the GM at 12:16, Sun 07 Nov 2021.

Moving forward, the pair find themselves standing over the body of a man. He appears to have been middle aged, with curly brown hair and a swarthy complexion. He wears a leather tunic and a dagger lies discarded on the ground beside him, along with a rucksack which appears to have been turned inside out. A waterskin and what looks like it might have been part of a lockpicking kit seem to be all that are left of whatever contents the pack once contained.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:59, Fri 11 Jan 2019.

"Crossbow bolt in the back," Aerendir says thoughtfully as he examines the man.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:51, Fri 11 Jan 2019.

Marabir frowns as he also squats to examine the man.

"A hunting accident, perhaps?"

"A very skillful hunting accident," Aerendir replies dryly, "And the 'hunter' went through the human's possessions afterwards. This handiwork appears to be more the doing of a thief... or an assassin."
This message was last edited by the player at 06:32, Fri 11 Jan 2019.

Marabir rubs his chin pensively.

"I wonder what a trained assassin would want with this man. He doesn't appear to be particularly significant in any way. A common thief based on his appearance and possessions."

"His garments and general raggedness are hardly an indication that he was anything other than one of the poorer specimens of the great unwashed. If it was an assassin who did this, though, then whatever they killed him for is likely long gone by now," Aerendir surmises, with less concern for the dead human than is probably nice.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:38, Fri 11 Jan 2019.

"True," Marabir concedes, "Can you determine how long ago he was killed?"

Aerendir examines the corpse and the bolt in more detail.

"Long enough," he says at length, "A few hours perhaps. Certainly long enough for the assassin to be long gone from here. My guess is they headed back to the road and then to Lastorn, as we saw no one coming from this direction on our way through the forest. And speaking of Lastorn, we should resume our journey. We have ascertained that this man is no threat to us."

Marabir glances down at the body.

"We should take him back to Lastorn," he says, "He may have kin there who would want to know his fate."

"Not what I would advise," Aerendir replies firmly, glancing back at the body, "Carrying a dead body into town is bound to result in questions and a lot of unwanted attention. I thought you were keen to travel as inconspicuously as possible on this quest of yours, Sir Varonil?"

Marabir shoots him a reproving glance.

"It's almost dark," he argues, "No one will see us entering, and the town guard are unlikely to do anything more than ask us for our testimony. Come, he may have been a thief, but I do not feel comfortable just leaving him here to rot."

Aerendir shrugs.

"Suit yourself. But don't say I didn't warn you if he ends up causing a lot more trouble than he's worth. It's not like his kin-- if he has any-- won't find him eventually, assuming the wolves don't do so first."

This last part is muttered softly.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:44, Fri 11 Jan 2019.

Marabir gives a nod of acknowledgement, stashing the man's belongings back into the rucksack and then stooping to hoist the body up in his arms. He then proceeds to follow Aerendir back through the foliage to the road.

"Finally!" exclaims the herald as the pair reappear, "I was beginning to- Raven's Star! Who is that?"

"I don't know," Marabir replies grimly as he slumps the body onto the front of his stallion before mounting himself, "We suspect he is a murdered thief, but we will return his body to the town of Lastorn on the off chance that he has kin there. Come, let us make haste!"
This message was last edited by the player at 06:34, Fri 11 Jan 2019.

Urging their mounts to a canter the trio start off once more and swiftly disappear into the gloom. Nearby an owl hoots, and a wolf howls in the distance. Then all is quiet.

OOC: End of Prelude...
This message was last updated by the GM at 06:59, Fri 11 Jan 2019.