Lodric, Valurel, Mardo, and the Wolf.
[sblock]Lodric, Valurel, Mardo, and the wolf descend down a steep, wooded ravine following the path of their unlikely pathfinder. The Widowmaker is barely visible in the darkness, a darkness that has grown with the steep descent, smothering the Heroes in a clutching embrace. The darkness does not feel natural and the eerie silence in the trees only compounds the unease. The Widowmaker slows his pace considerably, wary of this dark forest. While the other Heroes can sense the unease about them, Valurel blanches at the oppressive hatred and rage that emanates from the trees. The land itself is angry and their intrusion into this Darkening Wood has not gone unnoticed. Ghostly whispers sound in the Snow Elf's ears, angry warnings delivered by the Whisper. Valurel shudders at what has become of this twisted land.
The Widowmaker leads the band on in silence, unwilling to divulge any secrets of his destination. Hours pass, and time is lost. The forest above them gathers closely, hovering above them like angry sentinels. In the green dark, if the sun is out above them, they would never see it.
Dropping down through several more ravine cuts in the forest floor, Valurel senses something in the Whisper above. More anger? No. Focused anger. As if the forest around them was listening to something far away. Following in silence, Valurel realizes Thune follows the directed focus of the trees, the source of their attention. How could the Orc have sensed it so far away previously? Valurel shrugs. Regardless, the Elf can find his way toward the Orc's destination.
Passing through the dark trees, the Heroes find themselves moving through stone ruins, large ominous dark shapes that rise into the trees around them, or lay sadly decaying on the forest floor. Running their hands over the weathered stones, faint shapes and runes can be felt. Mardo can only wonder at the stories that such ruins could tell, as well as any items that might be of value on the black market.
With time, a faint roar can be heard ahead of the Heroes, as if from a large waterfall. With every step, the roar grows, almost deafening. At the edge of another steep drop, they find its source: a massive wind that tears through the trees, sending the green limbs of the forest giants swaying and crashing in an angry dance. Fallen leaves drift down over the Heroes, as their eyes strain into the darkness below. There, somewhere deep in the forest, emanates a faint green light that fades and reappears with the twisting trees. The Widowmaker turns to Valurel. You sense it to, Snow Elf? The anger in the trees? But not the anticipation of the bloodletting. The trees below dance, expecting to thrust their roots in blood-soaked ground. The Orc turns to the other Heroes as he begins to string his bow, his voice rumbling through the leafy din. Ready your weapons. Our quarry is near.[/sblock]
Herger, Starhl, Kaela, Ladriel, and Cyz.
[sblock]The Heroes shiver in the knee deep water, the heavy wind cause the trees to creak and twist. Above, in the light of Kaela's green stone, the heavy webs flit and shudder. The voice cries out once again in agony. By the grace of the Queen, is someone there! Do not leave me! I am Elrith, Elven Caransil hunter! I cannot seem to move!
Following Herger's lead, the Heroes stay close together as they scramble up the muddy, treacherous path. Small furtive figures move in the webs, their shadows scrambling to stay at the edge of Kaela's green light. Their tittering growing high with expectation, only to scream as Kaela raises her light. Whatever the creatures are, they certainly do not like light. Or at least, Kaela's green light.
Soon, the Heroes progress far enough up the steep, winding path so that Kaela's light no longer illuminates the swamp below. Above, the steep ravine wall stretches into darkness, giving the Heroes an eerie feeling of being trapped in a no-man's land, with nothing above or below them. I see your light! Over here!
Stepping gingerly off the mud path onto a dirt ledge, Herger pushes forward into the webs. Several large spiders drop onto the ground in front of him, which he promptly crushes with his foot. Using his axe to shear a path into the webs, he breaks into a small cyst within the webs. Peering over his shoulder, the Heroes blood runs cold. Stretched and held tight against the cliff face is an Elf, or what once was. His arms and legs are knotted with webbing that stretches into the webs above and below him, holding the poor creature in an upright position. Numerous small spiders crawl across his body, scurrying out of sight of Kaela's green stone. The Elf's once slender belly is grotesquely distorted, small things scurrying just under the skin stretched tight over the belly. The far side of the Elf's face and chest have...changed. Replaced is the flawless skin and beauty of a Caransil. Now, the flesh is blackened, one eye multi-faceted, heavy hairs protruding between chitinous plates.
Please, help me down. I think I was bitten by a spider and I cannot move. [/sblock]
