When dawn arrived Ralden fought off the lure of sleep and forced himself to stand. "Glad to know it can die. Good kill," he said with a nod of approval at the seasoned adventurer. He poked the ooze with his sword a few times but otherwise was content to leave the puddle alone. "I sincerely hope that was a rare creature that we stumbled across. If every night is like this we won't survive long."

Once he had stretched he moved to follow Iceman's orders. The upper rooms still remained unchecked. Ralden hoped that the holes in the ceiling would help illuminate the upper floor. He went room by room as he first stabbed any puddle with his sword. Once each room was cleared he'd search for anything of value.

The earth is quite soft and easy to dig, and so shallow graves are easy even for the still exhausted folks. A few quick prayers later and there are now a total of six graves around the back.

Meanwhile, from the Smiling Spirit, the group gathers up the following interesting items:

• 90 SP worth of loose coins
• 1 threadbare worn backpack with a few usable basic adventuring supplies within
• 1 vial of a small amount of blue, faintly glowing dust (confirmed to be Ember)
• 5 bottles of passable-quality wine

As the group packs up and leaves, they notice a trail heading from the clearing south into the woods. Since their new goal is southward anyhow, Iceman decides that the trail should be followed. About an hour later as the morning is finally stretching to a strength not seen in what seems like a very long while, the group rounds a corner and spies a lone figure on the trail heading toward them. At this angle, the trail is quite strait and the figure is about 90 feet from your position.

OOC: Is Alonder walking, or being carried?

He's definitely not walking. The rest is up to how his friends want to handle it.

Ralden wiped the sweat from his brow as they marched south. After a night of no sleep they had already dug the graves for the fallen. The warden rubbed his face to keep himself awake and focused.

At the sight of the figure down the trail Ralden stopped. Not one for stealth he rested one hand on his weapon and simply waited. Might as well let the figure come to them. "Seems there is someone off in the distance, a local perhaps? It would be nice to get some directions but I'll settle for something that doesn't consider killing us."

A vial of with a small amount of blue, faintly glowing dust is found at The Smiling Spirit. Leyna cups it in her hands like it's a holy relic.

"This is Ember!" she says with obvious excitement. Her mood immediately brightens; all of her malaise melts away.

She immediately shifts into academic mode: "Ember is a supernaturally efficient and clean-burning fuel, and a catalyst for enchanting permanent magical items and effects! Some mages have even claimed to be able to harness greater raw power by directly incorporating Ember as a focus or component during spellcasting..."

It belated occurs to her that she should probably be lying about this and not promoting its value, but she has little capacity for deceit, plus a scholar's dedication to facts.

She clutches the vial to her chest, like a long-lost treasure that's finally been found. She looks around for the safest place to store it, then settles for stuffing it down the front of her shirt.

"There, well-cushioned," she pats it, perhaps exaggerating. "Cushioned, at least," she allows as an afterthought.

Her mood for the rest of the morning is considerably improved, and might even involve humming to herself while she's burying the dead.

She takes Rebecca's dagger but leaves the rest of Rebecca's and Urvan's possessions to anyone who can make better use of them.

~~~

Out on the trail, Leyna halts and tries to study the figure approaching them:

- Giant, or a more traditionally-sized humanoid?
- Male or female?
- How are they dressed? Like a huntsman, a warrior, a mage, or otherwise? Armed and armored?
- Has the figure noticed the adventurers?
- Do they have a discernable facial expression, body language, or overall demeanor?

She holds her tongue and stands her ground, confident in the team's superior numbers (even if Alonder is on goatback), while she waits for the figure to notice them, or for someone else to say something first.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:36, Thu 15 June 2023.

Just as the group rounds the corner and notices the figure, said figure notices them too; not a great feat of observation, to be fair, with the four people on foot and an enormous goat saddled with another person quite frankly crowding the fairly narrow trail.

The figure animatedly lifts a hand, hailing the adventurers. Finally, a few paces away and out of Ralden's immediate striking distance, they stop, leaning on the curiously carved cane held in their other hand. [Language unknown: "Ol, day llle we es foinplpo, i ntulin llllit iv iowela oerwerproven con u ndwe strstianyatihou virher'onseraill,"] the figure speaks cordially in a low baritone, pronouncing the words with a faint but recognizable Imperial accent, and a soft lilt to the calm voice.

At this close proximity, the figure is revealed to be a tall—but not giant-tall—pale-skinned young man in prim clothing, with fancy bright silks covering a more practical thick dark coat. Around his waist is a small and rather elegant leather bag, as well as a singular unconcealed weapon: a simple dagger, safely inside of an embossed sheath. Strangely enough, his black-dyed leather shoes look like they'd just been through meticulous polishing. On top of the man's head is a shock of light beige, unruly hair, adding a touch of wildness to his otherwise tidy and composed appearance. He seems way too clean to have been on the road for more than five minutes, and yet... here he is, on a trail, seemingly in the heart of nowhere.

[Language unknown: "Tinnceble adit wasprohat of the omol redla alcon i wall Ad Yinectwhe Ckatai paca? O kor i oneus neeslo he anyoreday est, re ersha ol vireraconers lotiar is hoesno."] The man flicks his wrist a few times as if dismissing the thought of a mild inconvenience.

Leyna isn't usually the talkative sort but she's in such a good mood from finding the Ember that she greets the man cordially.

[Language unknown: "Vor lar nable risom, potoouee,"] she says.

[Language unknown: "Ardrutave rom es icapa k blestrall thu olngecfi,"] she continues. [Language unknown: "Neest Ichdi enalnc u verwheall of locon sti repa atmipr."] She indicates the path behind her. [Language unknown: "Le E adad theicaect ne fo wiwa ecen ternc ck romingtinere. Latlescomast ereoreore sshima ith t ch. I ware ec si tho st ticastort thadi eensetday."]

She taps cooking pot on her pack that has a lid tied down on it. [Language unknown: "Al omeelo we en tha ta ni ev ne pliv ustiai. A ancaatatos ingti ro omenot-traint whiughund omac outureome om eveandnde."] She indicates Alonder riding awkwardly on Judas goatback.

Leyna is an elf who is looking a bit worse for wear. She's clearly from the city and out of her element here in the wilderness. Her platinum hair is long and in a messy ponytail at the moment. She wears a black-hooded cape cloak while her only visible armor is a metal shield. There's a staff in her hand that she's using as a walking stick, and a dagger on her belt. Her accent is polished and speaks to a certain degree of education.

Seeing that the man is an elf, she switches languages:[Language unknown: "U ain k Eensonthi. Moate peno thu enli e ce ionforant, out. U nti pe i pl Paivne." (Saan ouof m inglinwiting o il Iv Niaslo, ieteel hoive butsomardiou tr Ratwhilin.) "Vor latwa ing iopo loacheie ilpro elpeas. For ut... resproardher."] Her eyes glance down at the polished shoes that look like they belong anywhere but in the forest.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:43, Sat 17 June 2023.

Learning of the inn's fate makes the fair-skinned man's placid smile wane. Further explanations are met with him lifting a hand to his chin and rubbing it thoughtfully. His gaze wanders to the unfortunate goatrider at Leyna's prompting; his eyebrow rises with a modicum of curiosity. [Language unknown: "Anwhi kor our era in notingeve? Ro ng oftise reashehas m ndtr eveaveoulnce p ma butredundort omtoit? O ul comteddinave linwasest yinous-wasareame ssol yinthokor at wilanyera? P onsainers it u seneli ha ica be on asolus behawellna—"] The stranger pauses, shifting his purplish eyes back to Leyna after she smoothly switches the language she speaks. His other eyebrow joins its sibling in its casual trip toward his pale hairline. It's as if he had not noticed her ancestry before she spoke Elvish.

[Language unknown: "Ti sa o eimius undlin-proich. Eeilhi. Meur rom rosawi enasma ck trthe proeauounwaswhi, heom Redstakor. Wi atiountin rom ticortera nc ol Der Aneeon, k enclineauthe ur hi oneessoun ter ssicpalius, trio lamoch e rom lo maneentha menareoer. E ro t saanweil a neolni, ononon, nihis o ughhisnce. Icwa errofo liich dibe isesli'ntev,"] Garret shakes his head briefly—resigned to his lesser title from, presumably, a far less prestigious institution—making the unorderly waves of his hair more clearly reveal his pointed ears. Whether he's truthful or not is anyone's guess, as the cadence of his speech and his expression both remain fairly unchanged.

"I assume then that you speak imperial common as well?" Finally speaking the language of the Empire, his accent is identifiable as one commonly heard around the Segin district of Maret. "I had a rather urgent business to discuss with the inn's proprietress—have you any idea what became of her?"

The warden tried to keep his face neutral but it was fairly obvious he failed to follow the conversation. As he watched Leyna converse with the man Ralden slowly relaxed. Even if he was unable to understand the words the tone of exchanged seemed fairly cordial.

When he heard the newcomer switched to Imperial it took a few moment's for Ralden's sleep deprived brain to notice. After a short pause he shook his head. "There were none left alive when we arrived. We saw several recently dug graves, it's possible she was placed there. It's possible she escaped but the storm was fierce yesterday."

The warden paused when he noted the man's clean attire. "I assume there is a town nearby? Some place we could rest without fear of weather or venomous oozes?" The last part was said with a thick layer of sarcasm.

Alonder likewise seemed to be missing the entirety of the conversation between Leyna and the newcomer, and was relieved to hear the man speak in Empire Common.

ToRalden's comment, he added: "I'd really like some venomous-ooze-free place to finish my recovery. I'm Alonder, pleased to meet you"

"Ah, splendid," Garret says as they seem to have found the correct language to communicate with. "Not the deaths at the inn, of course. That is quite tragic," he adds, his face clouded with a frown. He ponders that if the woman escaped before the storm hit, she might have avoided the same fate as the new tenants of the inn-side graves. Perhaps there were clues to where she'd have gone at the site—were being the keyword, as the storm would have destroyed all tracks and obvious evidence around the area. He immediately dismisses the idea of taking the time to check for certain.

The elvish man looks lost in thought before his frown finally dissipates. "My name is Garret. It is a pleasure. Meeting other travelers in this landscape is quite the treat," he reiterates, now that they can all understand his words.

"Nearby, hm... I departed Saltbridge at first light yesterday. The storm didn't help with my walking pace, as you can imagine, but I happen to be able to move faster than a limping slug. The town is not right around the corner.

"There is an old, abandoned settlement on the way along the trail south, where you can find rest. The locals say it used to be a colony called Hrasnoos. However, I cannot guarantee the absence of venomous oozes there. I can only vouch that I have not encountered any." When speaking of the southern trail, he uses his wood-and-metal spiral staff to indicate the direction which he came from. Clearing his throat, he taps his foot on the slightly overgrown path they're all standing on. He makes polite eye-contact, shifting his gaze from one person to the next as he continues to talk.

"Given the news about the inn, I see little reason to continue my journey northward. If The Smiling Spirit's apothecary has managed to escape, Saltbridge is the most likely place to have gone to. Until our paths diverge, let me accompany you."

Leyna nods.

"Yes, let us travel together. There is safety in numbers ... and our numbers have recently been depleted."

Upon reflection, she is uncertain whether this suggests traveling in the team's company is a dangerous affair, although to her it seems less treacherous than traveling alone.

"We are searching for the source of these storms," she tells Garret. "They are unnaturally violent. Have you uncovered anything suspicious or worth investigating during your travels? Was there any discussion of it in Saltbridge?"

She looks to the others, uncertain of whether it makes more sense to head toward Saltbridge or to explore Hrasnoos instead. Garret may be able to report whether Saltbridge would be productive for the purposes of information-gathering. If not, then perhaps it makes more sense to visit Hrasnoos. If it is abandoned then the weather there must be bad indeed, which perhaps suggests that they would be getting closer to the source of the problem.

OOC: Paraphrasing an answer for Garret to save time:
"No, nothing out of the ordinary. That is to say, the storms are a normal part of life in these parts and nobody worries overly much about it."

Iceman concurs with Leyna's allowance for Garret to travel with the group. He mentions nothing of the arrangement he'd made with the guild and the companions, and instead comments about the area and questions the newcomer about his abilities. "I've heard of Hrasnoos," he starts, "been there before, in fact, a while back. I didn't realize how close we were now though. In any case, the ruins there are unremarkable and likely useless at this point; picked over by scavengers long ago."

To Garret directly, he questions, "I trust you can handle yourself out here? We're not for babysitting, after all. You travel with us, you pull your weight."

---

His concerns then settled, Iceman pushes the party to continue southward along the forest trail. Hours pass and the refreshing smell of the flora is beautiful to those that appreciate it. The storm has snapped many trees of both trunk and limbs, so the trek involves clearing the path of such debris as you go.

Over that time, Alonder slowly feels his legs again though he still can't muster weight on them. He clings to Einhar helplessly and estimates that if his recovery continues at this pace he be fully mended the following morning.

OOC: Feel free to continue to converse as you travel. If there's anything else that you'd like to do on the way, let me know that as well. I'll move the action forward again soon.

Alonder didn't want to pry, but the curiosity grows along the further they walk (or ride, in his case). Eventually, he can't hold it back.

"So, Garret, why exactly were you looking for the apothecary for? Is someone you know sick?"

Ralden looked between Iceman and the newcomer. The warden had expected a summary of their expedition but it seemed their senior preferred to keep some information close to his chest. Not eager to draw the man's ire Ralden was mostly silent as they walked.

However his face slipped into a frown at the mention of storms being a normal occurrence. If the locals had dealt with the weather long enough for it to become accepted as normal then the source might be harder to find than they anticipated. He shook his head before he became too distracted. After the ordeals they had faced last night it seemed prudent to keep himself focused on the present.

"I'm surprised the region even supports an apothecary. If the storms are frequently as bad as they were yesterday it seems like it would be hard to tend a garden," he idly commented as he kept his eyes trained on their surroundings.

In response to Iceman's questioning, Garret raises an eyebrow. "Rest assured, good sir. I am capable enough of handling myself." Having said that, he taps his slender fingers against the wooden part of his staff in what he hopes seems like an idle manner. A superstitious gesture he would rather keep unnoticed.

As they make their way down the trail, prompted by his question, Garret's attention turns to Alonder. The elvish man seems hesitant for a moment. "Yes, someone I know is in need of medications," he admits, though he doesn't volunteer further details on the subject. Instead, he turns to respond to the warden's comment. "I don't see why they would not have men or women skilled in making medicine. The land is flush with wild herbs," he indicates the woods surrounding the trail, "And the people have as much need of various remedies as the people of Meret. If not more, actually, with how harsh the weather is."

After a short while of walking in relative silence, the mage turns to regard Leyna. "I can't help but wonder, why does a group of travelers seek out the source of these storms? Is it for scientific purposes?" He casts a doubtful glance at the four men and the goat, his expression betraying skepticism regarding their scholarly background.

"Sure," Iceman chortles, "scientific purposes. Oh, and the small fact that the storms make sea travel around the horn quite improbable, essentially blocking Meret from the rest of Lekesiz."

"Oh. I suppose it was a little troublesome, finding a ferry willing to cross the sea," Garret ponders out loud, connecting the dots as they are being laid out in front of him. He was neither much of a seafarer nor one to concern himself with meteorological phenomena. One thing Garret certainly is, however, is confident. The mage doesn't bat an eye explaining his lapse in logic. "It hadn't occurred to me that there could have been reasons beyond the weight of the coin purse I'd offered the sailors."

OOC: I've decided that it's time for dishing out some experience. For Alonder, Leyna, Ralden, and Valgard, a total so far of +820 XP.

• This is not counting the value of any treasure you find during adventure since that is calculated at the end.
• This is also not counting bonus XP that I promised for exceptional roleplay and/or writing contributions since I'm still not sure how to handle that exactly.

Overall, the pace is maybe about right I feel. Finding more treasure would always help, of course.

The daylight hours pass uneventfully. The group makes decent progress along the forest path southward as the weather remains pleasant. The storm has loosed many tree branches and stirred up plenty of dirt and mud, but it's a welcome time. Alonder has regained control of his upper legs, and he feels twinges of response from his lower muscles and even in his toes. But riding Einhar is still proving to be the best means for him to travel.

As sunlight begins to dwindle you spy the first ruins of Hrasnoos through the breaking tree line. The ruins themselves are just remnants of wooden walls here and there, nothing taller than a man and mostly reclaimed by nature. Whatever this settlement had once been, such promise was snuffed out decades ago.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 01:54, Mon 26 June 2023.

OOC: Also, if everyone can include a Wis/Notice roll in their next post, that would be great. Thanks.

After a while of traveling, Alonder decides to update everyone on his status.

"I think I can twitch my toes... I should be able to walk normally soon."

He then adds "Thanks again, Einar", patting the side of the goat.


11:09, Today: Alonder Gimbel rolled 13 using 2d6+1 with rolls of 6,6.  Wis/Notice.

"I'm not wondering if there are men and women skilled in making medicine," Leyna says. "I'm wondering why there are men and women out here at all. This weather seems inconducive to habitation. But if the intensity of the storms is a recent development then perhaps the land has tipped from 'survivable and sustainable' into 'neither'."

She appreciates the updates on Alonder's condition.

"When we set up camp, perhaps we can try the warm compresses that Garret recommended."

Leyna exhales when she sees the ruins of Hrasnoos. She had been hoping to find some stone walls at least. And finding dry wood for a fire might be a chore.

"Valgard can watch over Alonder and help set up camp," she suggests. "Ralden, Garret, why don't the three of us scout around and see if we can find any firewood, and maybe some fresh meat for dinner."

She's tired from the lack of sleep the previous night and from the long march today, but her enthusiasm from finding a vial of Ember is keeping her going even when her body wants to quit.

10:42, Today: Leyna Noc rolled 8 using 2d6 with rolls of 6,2.  Wis/Notice.

At Leyna's suggestion, Alonder voices a slight adjustment.

"Oh, I'll help too. I don't want to keep being a burden, I had you drag me along for long enough. I may not be fit to go exploring on my own, but I should be able to be more help than hindrance in setting camp"

The warden was used to a march but their exhaustion added an extra layer of annoyance to their travels. The others had mentioned that the settlement had been abandoned but despite all rationale he had hoped for a decent bed. The site of torn down walls and overgrown ruins dashed any such dream.

"Should be pretty easy to find fuel for a fire, half the settlement is just fallen wood." He remarked with a sigh. Before he left he looked at the newcomer to their group. "Where did you stay last time you were here? Any building that might be still standing to offer some shelter?"

He waited for Garret to respond before he joined the others in their scouting attempts. Tired as he was the fresh memory of last night's attack was a reminder that they would need to find any threats early.

OOC: 12:00, Today: Ralden rolled 6 using 2d6+2 with rolls of 3,1.  Wis/Notice.