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<blockquote data-quote="Galfridus" data-source="post: 175577" data-attributes="member: 119"><p>The following morning, Alamar casts <em>Comprehend Languages</em> on the sign, and reads:</p><p></p><p>"Beware of sharks!"</p><p></p><p>While only Magnimiliar has ever seen a shark, the party is nevertheless certain that sharks are not often found in riverside meadows, and move on. After an hour or so, they come across a second sign. Fortunately, Alamar's spell has not yet expired, so he reads:</p><p></p><p>"I mean it!"</p><p></p><p>"Gnomes," mutters Thorald. The party travels onward, until they see a two-foot long "fin" churning up the snow ahead of them. They stand, puzzled, for a quarter hour, watching the fin circle back and forth within an oval-shaped territory directly astride the road. After some consultation, they decide to leave the road and circle around the fin, which seems to take no notice of them. A little while later the party is back on the road, confused but safe. </p><p></p><p>Later in the day, the party comes across a group of pale-skinned, hairless humanoid creatures hunched over something in the middle of the road. They flee into nearby woods, leaving behind a half-eaten deer carcass. Alamar recalls hearing a tale of such creatures before. "Demons," he says darkly. The party shudders, and decides not to pursue. </p><p></p><p>Two days later, the party reaches the Merelin Road, running north from Kinfeld toward the capital of Rellenor. They turn north and travel for a couple hours, climbing the low hillsides that lead away from the Great River. Cresting one, they see below them a familiar scene: two long huts, with a wooden table and two barrels (one red and one blue) nearby. A score of ogres are lounging about. As the party approaches, they ready themselves for battle, two sitting down behind the table. One pulls out a crumpled scroll.</p><p></p><p>"One of these barrels holds yer doom…" one of the ogres begins, but the party barely listens. As soon as he is finished, they walk past the tables and up the road. </p><p></p><p>"Er…can we bash 'em now?" one confused ogre asks. </p><p></p><p>Another answers. "Hey…they figured it out!" A series of unpleasant Giantish words follows as the party hastens toward the Rellenor border. Soon, they see the banners of the Marquis of the Dragon before them, and a patrol of soldiers welcomes them.</p><p></p><p>The watch commander is not sure what to do. "Er…you're the first to come across this winter." He looks nervously at their tokens, then pulls out a scroll and writes on it hastily. "Sign here, and hand over your tokens." He passes the scroll around: it's similar to the one they signed back in Leston, but with "These people have returned tokens" scrawled at the bottom. The party complies, then rides on.</p><p></p><p>As soon as they cross the border, the air warmed, and the snow that had plagued them through Sygwerdan's land is nowhere to be seen. The day and a half ride to Merelin is a pleasant promise of the spring that is soon to come.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Galfridus, post: 175577, member: 119"] The following morning, Alamar casts [i]Comprehend Languages[/i] on the sign, and reads: "Beware of sharks!" While only Magnimiliar has ever seen a shark, the party is nevertheless certain that sharks are not often found in riverside meadows, and move on. After an hour or so, they come across a second sign. Fortunately, Alamar's spell has not yet expired, so he reads: "I mean it!" "Gnomes," mutters Thorald. The party travels onward, until they see a two-foot long "fin" churning up the snow ahead of them. They stand, puzzled, for a quarter hour, watching the fin circle back and forth within an oval-shaped territory directly astride the road. After some consultation, they decide to leave the road and circle around the fin, which seems to take no notice of them. A little while later the party is back on the road, confused but safe. Later in the day, the party comes across a group of pale-skinned, hairless humanoid creatures hunched over something in the middle of the road. They flee into nearby woods, leaving behind a half-eaten deer carcass. Alamar recalls hearing a tale of such creatures before. "Demons," he says darkly. The party shudders, and decides not to pursue. Two days later, the party reaches the Merelin Road, running north from Kinfeld toward the capital of Rellenor. They turn north and travel for a couple hours, climbing the low hillsides that lead away from the Great River. Cresting one, they see below them a familiar scene: two long huts, with a wooden table and two barrels (one red and one blue) nearby. A score of ogres are lounging about. As the party approaches, they ready themselves for battle, two sitting down behind the table. One pulls out a crumpled scroll. "One of these barrels holds yer doom…" one of the ogres begins, but the party barely listens. As soon as he is finished, they walk past the tables and up the road. "Er…can we bash 'em now?" one confused ogre asks. Another answers. "Hey…they figured it out!" A series of unpleasant Giantish words follows as the party hastens toward the Rellenor border. Soon, they see the banners of the Marquis of the Dragon before them, and a patrol of soldiers welcomes them. The watch commander is not sure what to do. "Er…you're the first to come across this winter." He looks nervously at their tokens, then pulls out a scroll and writes on it hastily. "Sign here, and hand over your tokens." He passes the scroll around: it's similar to the one they signed back in Leston, but with "These people have returned tokens" scrawled at the bottom. The party complies, then rides on. As soon as they cross the border, the air warmed, and the snow that had plagued them through Sygwerdan's land is nowhere to be seen. The day and a half ride to Merelin is a pleasant promise of the spring that is soon to come. [/QUOTE]
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