Inside of the thick canopy of trees you find that the road narrows a good bit. While the sun is still high over head, once you are inside thinks quickly go much darker than you expect. While you can still see the suns rays through branches in the trees you notice that the path is much more restricted which makes it clear that you made the right decision by leaving the horses behind on the main road.
This message was last updated by the GM at 14:16, Tue 30 Jan.

The halfling takes up the rear, remaining quiet. She fumbles behind the group, keeping up as best as she can. Echo adjusts her lute on her back before continuing. The dirty halfling mutters under her breath as the mouse peaks out of her cloak and yawns. She taps her old sword at her side as she moves along.

The group moves only as fast as the group moves as a whole. Hadrian kept pace with Echo keeping his spot near her. He was going through the logistics required for turning the wizard. Keeping their talents was going to be the hard part. It would be better to make a simulacra rather than animate but Hadrian was way off from that. His own reanimated processes does horrid things to reset the power of the subject.

Muirryl trudged at the fore of the group, hammer out to push aside brush and errant branches.  He moved from sun-dappled ground to shadow and back, but seeming to prefer the shade much more than the light.  In his experience, excessive sun lead to burns, but whereas the burn went from red to golden for most lighter-skinned folk, for Muirryl it tended to start at a bruise-purple, and then darken to soot or ash colors.  Enough time in the sunlight, and he suspected he might look as though he were made of hematite, possibly even with the shiny finish.

He growled under his breath.  "We should tack on a penalty for forcing us to go through this damned forest."

He wasn't at all serious about it.  But he felt a real anxiety about so many trees around.  There were always stories among the dwarven people about forests being haunted, and the run in on the previous day did not help matters.

"How can we be sure we're on the right course?" he asked, gloomily.

"How can we be sure we're on the right course?" The halfling repeats perfectly. Course hard to tell why she was copying him. Echo looks over at Had "You want to see a neat trick?" Her eyes light up and the mouse looks at Had as well as they continue to walk.

Turg gets a little more spring in his step as he soaks in the darkness.  Happy to return to his element.  So what is our plan once we reach this Necromancer and his castle?  Are we going to split up and try to get in or knock on the front door?  Might be nice to have a plan before we get there.

The look on Echo's face when Turg suggested splitting the party? Priceless. Jack left and is probably dead. Course Echo wouldn't heal him anyways-telling the supposed 'healer' she will be the death of the group? Not very smart. She sighs, pulling out her lute and glances at Had then back to Turg "Yes. Let's split up to stand less of a chance of taking down this wizard who probably knows we're coming and the Count expects us to die." Right to the point. She bits her lip, adjusts her cloak and expects something to get rude with her. Its to be expected. First Jack. Then it will be....the paladiin? The rogue? Maybe the warlock? Hard to tell. Most people don't like the truth handed to them.....

Muirryl paused, thought through what Echo said, and then nodded.  As he was nodding, he proceeded again. "No, you're right.  My first idea was a bad one.  We're going to need to do this together if we want to get out of this alive."  He half-tripped over a root and growled at the offending plant.  And then he added.  "I hate that I'm wearing the Count's insignia.  It's not like we can pass ourselves off as lost wanderers or something.  My tabard will automatically make him wary.  Even if I flip it inside out, it's still clearly the Count's colors..."

He considered.  "Actually... I do have something I can replace it with."  Keeping up the pace, he slowly hauled his pack open and pulled out a rough, black length of cloth.  With a little straightening, it became clear that it was something of a long black ?shirt?.  It would fall almost to his knees, and the bottom edge looked rough and jagged cut.  The cloth seemed to be thick, perhaps wool, and would be considered extremely common in trimming, except that it was dyed an even black.  Black was usually too expensive to dye clothing casually.

"I could change to this when we get there.  Is it worth it?  Or would that be a waste of time, and we make it clear we represent the Count?"

 Hadrian nodded, "Always happy to see tricks."

"I can only advise caution when dealing with a necromancer. In all cases, they have the numbers advantage. But more than that if they are smart they also have the power advantage. It is no harder to animate a dragon than it is a peasant. But most of all what people forget most is that all necromancers are still mages. Tossing a fireball is no greater stress than a circle of death."

"Our best bet is to see the situation then adjust. Planning ahead to kick in the door closes the door to a peaceful resolution. For all we know someone has been pressing him and has his daughter captive of something. Unless I missed something, which is likely, we are entirely in the dark."