Roxie nodded her agreement and understand but she didn't move immediately into a patrol. Instead, she worked around Korak and Brett to get them into a more comfortable position and in the shade. She tried to be careful with them and her face showed her concern for them.

Finally, she walked away and contemplated the situation as she watched the skies and all around. Her crossbow was in hand and a bolt ready with another bolt rolling between her fingertips and thumb. Occasionally her gaze drifted back to the downed companions and little one, her stance one full of protectiveness.

Durwe peers at Brett. It is distracting, the way the mage stands there, arm upraised to defend himself... just frozen. Even more eerie is the fact that he can see the intellect in the eyes. Brett is aware of what is happening around him, but can not move a single muscle voluntarily.

"I have often wondered why the shorter lived races are so afflicted by a ghoul's touch," he comments, seemingly genuinely curious at the effects on Brett and Karok. Of course, Karok was a much longer lived race than the humans, but nowhere near as long as the elves.

Durwe turns his curiosity toward the Hin as Jhaelin leaves to renew his faith. The elf remains stoic and expressionless, not giving away his opinions of the flighty, small human-kin.

"You are far, far away from your native lands," he says, pulling the arrow from the ghoul and offering it back to the Hin.

"What brings the Hin to these woods?"

While awaiting an answer, Durwe examines the dead ghoul and the mound it came from.

The minutes pass slowly, but eventually Karok and Brett feel the pain of their muscles being relieved of rigor. Huge, jaw clenching cramps wrack their bodies.

Roxie and Tynia stand guard over the camp, but report nothing stirring within the wood or above.

Durwe flips a wooden plank over that had been hanging from the ghoul's neck to find strange lettering scrawled in blood on its surface. It is not a language he is familiar with. Perhaps the kobolds language?

He picks up a steel amulet which had also hung from the ghoul's neck and pulls it from the body. It is an aged steel amulet stylized with a Hammer and an Anvil. Nothing about it seems familiar to the elf.

There is nothing else remarkable about the ghoul, except for a well worn leather shoulder pouch which contains a small variety of herbs, strange reagents, and a half torn page with more strange writing and bits of rat fur and rotting meat. And a ring on his left fore finger.

The mound turns out not to be natural. It is a lump of flesh, bone and dirt. Two bloated human bodies in various shades of decomposition and decay. Entrails and other organs have been picked at and pulled from the bodies. Large flies buzz agrily around the area. Roxie recognizes the identity of the corpses immediately.

Jhaelin continues his rest and prayers.

He took the arrow from the elf and slipped it back into his quiver, likewise observing the body of the fallen ghoul as he spoke.

"Ah my native lands," he says with a sigh and a reflective smile, "I am far indeed but what brings me from them is an old tale to me, and an ugly one. Let us leave it for now only at misfortune," he says, touching the ragged scar that cuts from the edge of his mouth, down to his chin. "Misfortune and the cruelty of men and orcs." The halfling is almost lost in thought now, rolling on the balls of his bare feet and no longer looking at the elf, but rather out to the horizon. Perhaps realizing how somber he'd become, he excuses himself to take a moment to pack and light his pipe before continuing.

"As for here in particular, a bit of bad luck as well. I joined up with a caravan that ran into some fog and was attacked by... well by I don't know what. So I've been wandering for too long, keeping away from kobolds, live ones that is, and trying to not to starve. Then I found you all," he finishes with a drag from his pipe. "And what brings this group together into the wilderness?"

As time went on and he continued the conversation with Durwe, he makes sure to introduce himself to the now unparalyzed two, and when the herbs on the kobold are discovered he fails to recognize them, despite his knowledge of local flora.

One of Durwe's brows raises at the Hin's words. This was new information, and might be valuable to them. There remained the question as to who was behind the pestilence.

"You have seen kobolds near here?"

Karok had been, first, audible, then increasingly noisy for awhile, making growling and glottal sounds until his jaw began to loosen.

The first words that could be interpreted were, "Was that a ghoul? I hate ghouls. There is no good purpose on the surface or under it for them to exist in this world. They ALL ought'a be eradicated. Totally. At first opportunity. Oww. I can feel my feet, and they don't feel good. I HATE ghouls!"

Theadric nods at Durwe's words. "Saw a patrol or two of the scaly bastards not far from here. If that's what you all are after, I can think of worse things than joining up and ridding with a band of kobold hunters."

"Blight the little buggers, aye," Roxie agreed with Karok. She was nearby and anyone looking at her could see the tenseness in her shoulders. "That ghoul apparently got to the young couple I was sent to find," she called out lightly and pointed to the unnatural mound of bodies. "I need to take some identification back to the family whenever we return to town." The frown was deep and she much preferred smiling, but there was never a good way to tell people their loved ones were gone.

""Sorry, lass." Karok consoled. "Your young couple wouldn't've stood much of a chance. Blarg, if there had been two of them instead of one, WE might not have made it."

"Gotta figure out a way to fight these things, if there are any more around!"

Durwe steps up to Roxie and shows her the items he pulled from the ghoul, hoping that perhaps one of them cold help her in proving identification.

One item is an aged steel amulet stylized with a hammer and anvil. Another is an ornate ring made from dark green jade. It is engraved with the word Kreed. The last item is a leather satchel filled with various items.

"Perhaps one of these things belonged to them," the elf says hopefully.

"Aye ... the ring is their mark," Roxie said as soon as her eyes fell on the ring. Without asking, she reached out and took it from Durwe, nodding and quietly replying "thank you." With a quick motion, the ring was dropped into her beltpouch for safekeeping.

She'd also looked at the amulet and nodded toward Karok. "Wonder if he might know something about that one," she said conversationally. "I see hammers and anvils and I always think of them."  Her gesture toward Karok gives meaning, and given her tone, she obviously respected the dwarves and their skills with smithing.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:29, Tue 15 Nov 2022.

The dwarf nodded his thanks, understanding the observation as compliment, or taking it that way, at any rate. "Let me see," he reached out with blunt, muscular hand.

(Figuring the DM would fill him in on it if it was anything but a simply Holy Symbol of Moradin).

Karok reaches for the amulet and takes it into his palm. As soon as he touches it, Karok feels a strumming from  within it, as if some deep connection exists and now sparks to life. A dust billows from the piece, as if it shrugs off age and deterioration.

As if by magic, it takes on a bronzed appearance that is unblemished with age or debris.

Jhaelin returns from his prayers a refreshed man and high in spirits. He downs his water till there is but a quarter a skin left. Water might become a problem, he thinks.

"Okay. It is still early yet and we have to find the monastery." The cleric looks over at the halfling that is stoking the embers of his pipe.

"You are welcome to come with us, Theadric. We are not lost yet and have a map of a sort, but we are not heading to Falcon's Hollow right yet. Your skill with a bow might be useful if there is trouble."

"Up to you, of course, but I for one would not take to being out here alone in these wilds. Very dangerous."

Jhaelin gathers his gear, hoping to prompt the others to do the same. He was ready to get moving.

"While we walk, I can tell you of what we are doing and why."

Jhaelin looks up the ridge to Durwe, Karok and Roxie.

"You guys ready to go?"

Durwe comes down the hill, tossing the leather satchel onto the dead ghoul. There was nothing in it he or the others could use.

"The Hin-- umm, Theadric, says he come across a couple of kobold patrols out here recently. Could be that a witch doctor being behind the spreading of the taint is not so far fetched after all."

"Should keep a wary eye out, that's for sure."

Brett, keeping quiet, relaxes against the trunk of a tree. He sneezes once and wrinkles his nose at the smell of death and decomposition. He refuses to look over at what Durwe says is a pile of dead bodies. He wanted to keep what little food he had eaten down. Instead, he watches the Hin with some curiosity. Oddly, he did not see any vile and demonic looking ink upon the lad's skin . He didn't seem very war-like to the mage. What other misperceptions did he have about that race?

Jhaelin's return reminds him that he should have been studying. Sighing, he gathers his gear and blames the heat and lack of real food and drink for his slip up.

"Sounds good to me. Quicker to get out of these woods," he grumbles. "Not too sure I like the life of the adventurer."

Theadric had been taking care to observe the group with no small sense of wonder. While he knew he was something of an exotic curiosity, he had never seen a gathering like this, from fair elves, to sundry tall folk to a brash dwarf. When Jhaelin speaks to him, he nods. "I'd be happy to travel with you and do what I can. I may not owe you anything, but like you said, I'm not fool enough to try getting back to town alone. And I'd love to hear about what brought you all out to this place."

Roxie heard Jhaelin call out to them and nodded, clapping Karok on the shoulder. "As long as everyone feels up to it, I'm good to go," she said and walked back to get her pack. She did take some time to pull the couple of crossbows out of the ghoul and cleaned them on the satchel. She spared a look to Brett, compassion and understanding in her eyes. "It's not for everyone but you seem sturdy enough," she grinned encouragingly.
This message was last updated by the player at 23:50, Tue 15 Nov 2022.

"Very well then." replies Jhaelin. He makes his way to the top of the ridge, which was not very far off and then down the other side.

"Durwe. You and Karok take lead that way." the cleric says, pointing a little to the right of the looming Mt. Droskar. This close to the mountain, one had to crane the neck up to see the peak.

"Theadric and I will follow, and we will be followed by Brett, then Tynia and Roxie."

Jhaelin begins his story of how the party came to be together.

Jhaelin pushes ahead through brush and tree, following behind Karok and Durwe by only a few yards. He was confident in their skill at direction and so concentrated on storytelling.

"We began in Falcarragh. On the eve of my affirmation, I get a message from a friend, Dalthorp, who is also originally from the Falcon Hollow area. Thorin, a good childhood friend of mine is his son.

"Anyway, he sends message that my sister, Laurel, who is a pretty skilled herbalist in Falcon's Hollow, has put a call out for adventurers to retrieve some rare reagents she needs for a curative to something called the Blackscour taint. Its a nasty little pestilence that makes you very sick, and can kill you if bad enough.

"So I gather a few people, namely Karok, Durwe and Tynia there and we make our way to Falcon's Hollow. Met a rogue named Ordil along the way."

Jhaelin's tone turns sorrowful.

"He died yesterday."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:41, Tue 15 Nov 2022.

Theadric nodded while walking along with Jhaelin. "So now we're off to find those regents?" he says, understanding the plan. "I'm sorry to here about that rogue, but this is dangerous business, after all."

Dangerous indeed. The group seemed to have some skilled warriors, but who knew what was coming? As he walks, he keeps his eyes on the horizon, alert to any danger.

"I don't doubt your leadership, Jhaelin," he says cautiously, "but if you want me to help as much as I can, I'd be better to you out in front of the group, scouting the way. I slow down you tall folk, but they'd never see me coming." He laughs, for the first time in a while, as a though occurred. "Of course, I don't blame you for wanting to keep an eye on me."

Dangerous indeed and Roxie felt a tiny pang for the person lost though she'd never got a chance to speak to him. She tagged along in the rear guard position, crossbow readied this time just in case there were more nasties. "He does like keeping an eye on new people," she called out softly to Theadric. "Which is amusing since I get to sneak along behind everyone." Her tone was full of humor, trying to lighten everyone's spirits perhaps just a little.

That last little bit of stiffness was working itself out of Karok's muscles as he marched. That ghoul paralysis had been horrible! Oh, the physical pain was just a minor inconvenience; you could bull your way out of that, given enough time. But the unmoving, the feeling of HELPLESSNESS! He never wanted to have that feeling again!

The dwarf spared a glimpse down at the amulet that Roxie had handed him and considered the vision he'd had. He should tell the others about it. But, later, after he'd had time to think. The amulet, meanwhile, was of his people, and did give a sense of connection, of comfort, and more. He slipped it over his head, with Moradin-symbol out to the world.

He wanted... a fight. Or to accomplish something. Or... some way to feel like he was powerful and capable, again. Not helpless.

Theadric called back to Roxie, "There's an old trick among the Hin! Keep a scout in back and you'll know they're following before they know it!" He appreciates the need for levity, as even though a certain grimness falls over the group, he still considers this new turn of events a marked improvement. Out on the open road, in search of evil to destroy and good to be done, he realized he hadn't felt so free, pleased, and not dying of thirst in quite some time.

Was everything about Theadric a ruse? Jhaelin shrugs.  He didn't think so. He considers the Hin's words, his mannerisms and spee6ch. Everything about the halfling seems genuine on the whole, just a good soul searching for adventure. He didn't believe for a moment that he originated from the native Hin lands. There was something he was keeping from them, but everyone had secrets. Jhaelin could not judge anyone for that alone. Even me, Jhaelin thinks, for he had not shared everything with his companions, and mayhap never. Some things were better to never be returned to.

"I will consider that next time we deploy Theadric. You are right, they would not see you coming."

Jhaelin then continues his tale. He relates their stay in Falcon's Hollow, the things they found at the well, and then how they inadvertently disrupted a kidnapping on the streets at night. He tells of Ordil being beaten as a message to them to stop meddling.  He only mentions the death of Ordil that once and something of the creature they nearly died fighting. He thinks Theadric would really like seeing the Elder tree.

The new sun moves nealy two full hands in the sky. The companions descend the other side of the ridge and find an old, unused and dilapidated road that follows along the next ridgeline. It winds off toward the right side of Mt. Droskar, which puts it in the same general direction as the monastery if Milon's map is accurate, and so far it has been.

The road winds through the forest, following the natural contours of the landscape. Trees and brush have long overgrown the road and sometimes it seems the road disappears entirely from view, only to be seen again if one imagines where it might have led and follow that intuition.

Jhaelin is re-recounting an encounter two days ago in Falcon's Hollow where Karok, Ordil and himself intervened and saved a man from being kidnapped by some thugs that were presumably working for a gang under the rule of Kabron One-eye when his speaking is interrupted by seeing what lies before them. Sitting squat at the foot of the imposing mountain, a ruined monastery comes into view between ancient gnarled trees. Made of simple stone blocks, worn smooth with the passage of time, the stout building is falling apart. Sections of the slanted shale roof have collapsed and portions of the outer wall have crumbled. Weeds and wild thorn plants run rampant across the field leading up to the place, leaving only the slightest indication of the path that ends at the ruined front doors. Beyond those doors, an overgrown yard sits in shadow.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:56, Tue 15 Nov 2022.