Chapter 3: The Valley of Sleeping Jarls
A cold sun greets you as you leave the sanctuary and Gregors behind. It is uncomfortable, but as a group, you've faced privation with stoic persistence. This day is no different.
Ulrich leads the way, followed closely by the remainder of the party in their usual formation. Myrrick follows up at the rear, alert and aware.
Marching order:
Uthecar -- Ulrich
Bruno -- Gilden
Zan -- Kullonar
Myrrick
After about an hour's march, which takes you past the first hour after midday, you come to a great tree that overlooks a flowing river. Its branches are bare. Above you, water rushes down from a steep drop into a wide basin, leaving a fine mist hanging in the air. A wide stream travels in a southeastern direction; along the river are the forgotten detritus of spring; clumps of dead flora, denuded trees...and a sickly scent that leaves your mouth dry like a bad hangover. You halt and take stock of your surroundings.
Welcome to the valley, gentlefolk. Feel free to spend time role playing.