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Steel Dragon's "Tales of Orea"
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<blockquote data-quote="steeldragons" data-source="post: 5572175" data-attributes="member: 92511"><p><strong>Don't split the party!!!</strong></p><p></p><p>The following morning, the mood at camp was grim. Haelan attempted to lift spirits by making breakfast, using up the last of the fairly stale bread and final few sausages he had packed from Shoal. The sounds of songbirds filled with early day.</p><p> </p><p> Fen nibbled on a handful of bright red and black berries he’d gathered</p><p> </p><p> “It may be unwise to cook such savory delights, friend Hilltender.” The druid mused. “We are nearing the woods and hills known for bears in this country.” . His attention seemed drawn to a jay that had alit on the branch of a silverleaf tree handing out over the river. Its leaves had turned their dark green, the metallic silver edges of the leaves dulled to the deep violet of the late summer. The leaves will drop soon, thought the druid.</p><p> </p><p> Haelan looked concerned for a moment before retorting with a broad smile, “Well, you can just talk to them and invite them to join us for breakfast, then.”</p><p> </p><p> Duor huffed a short chuckle. Even Coerraine smiled.</p><p> </p><p> Alaria had her nose in the small leatherbound spellbook of the elf mage while the halfling cleric cooked. She had learned in its pages he was named “Lethyllis” and belonged to “Eres’ka Staliirosta” <em><elvin: “House Starwatcher”, </em>literally “those who watch the stars”> . Her inquiry as to if Erevan knew or had heard of him was met with a silent negative. The elf tracker did note, after a moment, that Eres’ka Staliirosta was the ruling house of the province of Evandrial, Miralosta’s most eastern region, though he had not heard of anyone named Lethyllis in the royal family.</p><p> </p><p> Braddok brooded through much of the morning and ate in silence. When most of the party was finished with their morning meal, the western swordsman spoke.</p><p> </p><p> “We should move away from the river and proceed with all caution.” He began. “The goblin army is somewhere between 1 and 2 days ahead of us, now. Thieir size will cause them to move more slowly than our group…and an army, even of goblinoids, needs a lot of water.”</p><p> </p><p> This was mulled over by the group. Alaria did not like the idea, siting the river was their best chance to a) arrive to Welford ahead of the army and b)arrive at Welford more speedily. The completion of her errand was never far from her mind. “If we arrive at Welford before the goblins pass by, we can perhaps save some lives.”</p><p> </p><p> “Or aid in the town’s defense,” added Coerraine.</p><p> </p><p> “True, magess. But we no longer have a way to move upriver.” Duor pointed out, paying no mind to the paladin’s foolish assumption.</p><p> </p><p> “We could make a raft.” Haelan offered.</p><p> </p><p> “We could.” Conceded Braddok. “But sitting on a raft in the river is a great way to get us all filled with goblin arrows when we pass the army’s position.”</p><p> </p><p> Alaria admitted this was not a pleasant prospect.</p><p> </p><p> “Besides,” continued Braddok, “we have no indication the goblins are going to pass Welford. If they are heading for Miralosta, as you and Erevan suggest, they may pass by the hamlet without even knowing it is there.”</p><p> </p><p> Braddok had a point, Alaria admitted. However, given the state of the elvin outpost, the prospect that the force might pass by or through Welford was not one any of the party wanted to dismiss.</p><p> </p><p> Finally, Erevan weighed in, “If they are headed to my people’s realm, they will encounter the stronghold of Evandrial in the eastern wood.” He turned purposely toward Alaria. “Milady, if we can get before the enemy, I must continue westward to warn my people of the coming invasion.”</p><p> </p><p> Alaria nodded. “Of course, Erevan. We will do everything we can.” Alaria has always been fascinated with the elves she had met. Erevan was no exception. She had studied their tongue since a young age. She felt an affinity for them and their legendary skill in magic-use. She also admitted to herself that the prospect of actually seeing or visiting the elvin land would be a most welcome experience she had not even considered as part of her foray into the realms beyond R’Hath.</p><p> </p><p> Braddok was not at all concerned with the possible problems for Miralosta and made his position clear. “Alaria,” he began gently, “my lady, you hired us to protect you on your errand. Please allow us to do so. The decision is yours, of course. But I strongly recommend we leave the river. If we are set upon and it becomes necessary, we have no way to escape across or down the river. As a smaller group, we can easily overtake a large military force on foot…and gods willing, unnoticed.”</p><p> </p><p> Duor had not thought of this and heartily endorsed Braddok’s position.</p><p> </p><p> “But we also know we can’t be attacked by them from the river either.” Haelan pointed out. He cringed a bit at Braddok’s dark glare.</p><p> </p><p> Alaria calmly packed the small spellbook back away in her pack with her own. She thought a bit before realizing that everyone was looking to her to make the final decision. Braddok’s argument was sound…but she desperately disliked the idea of slinking through the wood on foot in, what she had to consider, “enemy territory.” She felt saddened and defeated that all of the time to be saved to arrive in Welford now seemed to, again, be denied her.</p><p> </p><p> As if in answer to her distress, Fen interrupted her thoughts. “Look there!” the druid pointed upriver. Slim barge floated aimlessly near the middle of the river.</p><p> </p><p> “The gods are smiling on us, Alaria. Perhaps it is a gift from Tyris for getting her pearl for Tidemaster Kama!” Haelan enthusiastically suggested.</p><p> </p><p> All in the party were forced to admit, it was a happy coincidence until they realized they had no way of retrieving the drifting skiv.</p><p> </p><p> As it neared, Duor amended, “Not Tyris, hairfoot. Looks more like Desri.”</p><p> </p><p> The mood was again darkened as they noticed a body slumped over the side of the vessel, the upper half dragging through the water. A number of arrows could be seen protruding from the corpses back. More arrows were visible sunk into the side of the barge and the few barrels that seemed to be its cargo.</p><p> </p><p> “Here.” Said the dwarf plainly. He handed his length of elvin rope to Erevan and set to tying the other end of it to his normal length of hemp.</p><p> </p><p> Erevan looked distractedly at the rope, then the dwarf.</p><p> </p><p> “An arrow, yeh daft…” Duor quelled his tongue. Even the rock-thick skull of the dwarf felt pity on the elf for the severe loss he had suffered the previous day. “Tie it to one of yer arrows and drag it over here.” He finished as kindly as he could muster.</p><p> </p><p> Understanding flashed on the elf’s face and a moment later, the archer was taking aim. His elvish skill was unquestionable as the bolt flew steadily into the prow of the barge. Gently, Erevan and Coerraine led the barge to the riverbank some distance downstream from their camp.</p><p> </p><p> Sure enough, the bargeman had been an elf. The barrels, several of which at leaked their contents through holes made by goblin arrows, had begun to fill the floor of the barge with the golden elfvine wine, so treasured in the Freelands and R’Hath. Laying out of view, on his back on the deck of the shallow barge, another elf was peppered with goblin arrows in his chest. A bow and mostly empty quiver lay beside him.</p><p> </p><p> Coerraine and Haelan, again, bowed their heads and began funerary rites of their respective religions.</p><p> </p><p> “They’ve been dead ‘bout half a day.” Duor observed after a quick examination of the bodies.</p><p> </p><p> Alaria and the others looked at Duor in shocked question.</p><p> </p><p> “I’m guessing!” defended the dwarf, “I’m no physician.”</p><p> </p><p> Further examination, lamentably for Duor, revealed they held no treasure but a few silver coins stamped with the large tree with a circle in the tree’s leaves and topped by a . This was the symbol of the Miralostae nation. The dwarf handed the coins to Erevan. “I can’t do anything with elf coins,” reasoned the dwarf to himself.</p><p> </p><p> “Probably traveling in the night,” reasoned Fen. When he received some questioning looks, the druid explained, “The Moonwatcher elves are prone to travel at night. They prefer it and it is safer,” he looked at the bodies, “…usually. As I understand it, anyway.”</p><p> </p><p> Erevan confirmed Fen’s statement. He added it was part of the reason that humans rarely encountered elvin merchants or travelers outside of human lands. His people, if they left the security of Miralostae at all, preferred sticking to the woodlands and waterways whenever possible.</p><p> </p><p> “Erevan,” Haelan began gently, “shall we burn them like we did the others.”</p><p> </p><p> “No.” said the elf plainly. This raised some questioning eyebrows. </p><p> </p><p> “Erevan’s right.” Braddok offered. “Setting a pier now, in daylight, could attract notice.”</p><p> </p><p> An hour or so later, the elvin winesellers entombed in a shallow grave near the riverside, the party discussed their next move. Alaria refused to pass up the prospect of speed that using the barge allowed them. Nor, she added, would she seek to offend whatever deity it was who offered them this chance. </p><p> </p><p> The problem became logistic. The barge, even without the barrels, was not large enough to carry the whole party.</p><p> </p><p> It was decided Alaria, Coerraine (who refused to be separated from his duty to his charge) and Haelan would take the barge and proceed by water, staying as far to the opposite bank as the river would allow. Erevan, Fen and Duor would proceed on foot, staying near/within view of the river to better be able to allow assistance or signal for aid if they needed it. The elf tracker, half-elf druid and dwarvish rogue were sure they could move with speed and stealth through the woods. Braddok insisted he would be able to keep up. Erevan insisted, due to Braddok’s armor, he (and Fen if he wanted) move ahead of the band on foot to better survey the region before them…and better keep silent away from the chainmail clad warrior.</p><p> </p><p> Coerraine declined Braddok’s offer of his bow. He admitted, somewhat sheepishly ,that he was not trained in the art of archery. This troubled Braddok, but Alaria assured that the spellcraft of herself and Haelan would offer them ample defense should they be assailed from the riverside. And in the event of goblin arrows, Coerraine’s armor and shield would prove invaluable.</p><p> </p><p> “Here.” Said Haelan offering him the crystal vial with the pink potion. “Take this. You may need it and I may not be able to reach the shore in time if you require healing.”</p><p> </p><p> Erevan nodded a silent thanks and carefully stashed the magical draught in on of his belt pouches.</p><p> </p><p> “How far are we?...from Welford.” asked Alaria.</p><p> </p><p> “As best I can tell, my lady, 3 days.” Braddok answered. “And if Duor is correct, and I believe he is close to it, we will run into the goblin force sometime later this afternoon or evening.”</p><p> </p><p> Alaria nodded in understanding. “Are we ready, then?” she asked.</p><p> </p><p> “Where’s Fen?” said Haelan as he clumsily fell into the barge.</p><p> </p><p> The other looked around. “Where’s the dwarf?” added Coerraine, his voice full of suspicion.</p><p> </p><p> Neither the druid nor the rogue were in the vicinity of the barge…nor the camp.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> Fen moved swiftly into the woods, spurred onward by the occasional glimpse of the bright blue as the jay flitted from branch to branch, away from camp. His movement through the brush hardly making a sound. Finally, the jay came to land on the thick branch of an oak that stood in the midst of a shadowy glade.</p><p> </p><p> Unbeknownst to the druid, he was trailed by Duor. The dwarf thief had been the only one to notice the tail end of the druid’s cloak fade away into the green and brown of the woods while the others discussed how the party would be split. Noting the druid had stopped moving, Duor silently dropped behind a large bush and peered cautiously through the leaves to where the druid stood.</p><p> </p><p> Fen pulled the deep hood of his cloak up over his head, set the end of his spear firmly into the ground and bowed his head.</p><p> </p><p> To Duor’s amazement, the bird seemd to bow its head in return and fluttered to the forest floor. No sooner had its feet reached the gound then did the bird seem to stretch and change into a pillar of green light, about the size of the druid. When the light subsisded, where the bird and light had been stood another figure, no taller than Fen, similarly garbed in a deep green cloak, its face shrouded in the shadowy depths of the deep hood. The figure also held a spear with a similarly leaf-shaped blade, like Fen’s. Then Duor noted the cresent-moon-within-a-sun clasp holding the figure’s cloak. </p><p> </p><p> What followed was a series of the statements in the cryptic tongue of the Ancient Order. Duor strained not to hear the syllables assaulting his brain. Determining he would be unable to either withstand the audible assault or understand any of what was being said, the dwarf decided to preserve his sanity and slunk back as quietly as he could to the rest of the party.</p><p> </p><p> What follows is a translation of the conversation between Fen and his superior in the druidic tongue:</p><p> </p><p> “Greetings Fen of Moonglade.” Said the figure. The voice was distinctly feminine.</p><p> </p><p> “Greeting, sister Sage.” Replied Fen, not raising his head. “What brings the Mouth of Moonglade to the Laklands?”</p><p> </p><p> “You, of course, my pupil.” Replied the figure. “I bring word from the Lord of Ash. He commends you on negating the troublesome influence upon Dragonbone Isle but warns your mission is far from over.”</p><p> </p><p> “I suspected as much.” Fen answered. “I have learned there is an army of goblins and other servants of evil making approach to the elf-land of Miralostae.”</p><p> </p><p> “We know.” Responded the Mouth, nonplussed. “I have been sent to tell you that it is of the utmost concern to the Lord that you continue on this course. The forces of the Chaosbringer are moving to increase their power in a way that can only spell the destruction of the Balance and the realms.”</p><p> </p><p> “You know what it is they seek?” Fen answered with surprise. He lifted his head and looked at the druidess.</p><p> </p><p> The Mouth of Moonglade‘s own gaze shot up in a scowl to the neophyte half-elf.</p><p> </p><p> Fen quickly bowed his head again, forgetting himself.</p><p> </p><p> “I…My apologies, Sage, I did not mean…” Fen stuttered.</p><p> </p><p> The emissary of the Ancient Order continued without further comment on Fen’s breach of protocol. “We are near to an answer. But it is clear, the forces of this 'Bulgruch' must not be permitted to enter the lands of Miralostae.”</p><p> </p><p> “Understood, mentor.” Fen answered humbly. “Can you tell me…” the red-headed half-elf began.</p><p> </p><p> In another flash of green light, the Mouth of Moonglade was gone. He looked about to see any other creatures around him. He didn’t see any.</p><p> </p><p> With a sigh, Fen made his way, with equal silence and grace through the woods back to the river.</p><p> </p><p> As he carefully stepped out from the edge of the forest, he looked upon all of his companions staring at him in inquisition. Duor stood before them all, arm’s folded, with a smirk on his face. Even Erevan’s face seemed disapproving…in his own unemotional way.</p><p> </p><p> “Care to tell us what that was all about, druid?” said the smug dwarf.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="steeldragons, post: 5572175, member: 92511"] [b]Don't split the party!!![/b] The following morning, the mood at camp was grim. Haelan attempted to lift spirits by making breakfast, using up the last of the fairly stale bread and final few sausages he had packed from Shoal. The sounds of songbirds filled with early day. Fen nibbled on a handful of bright red and black berries he’d gathered “It may be unwise to cook such savory delights, friend Hilltender.” The druid mused. “We are nearing the woods and hills known for bears in this country.” . His attention seemed drawn to a jay that had alit on the branch of a silverleaf tree handing out over the river. Its leaves had turned their dark green, the metallic silver edges of the leaves dulled to the deep violet of the late summer. The leaves will drop soon, thought the druid. Haelan looked concerned for a moment before retorting with a broad smile, “Well, you can just talk to them and invite them to join us for breakfast, then.” Duor huffed a short chuckle. Even Coerraine smiled. Alaria had her nose in the small leatherbound spellbook of the elf mage while the halfling cleric cooked. She had learned in its pages he was named “Lethyllis” and belonged to “Eres’ka Staliirosta” [I]<elvin: “House Starwatcher”, [/I]literally “those who watch the stars”> . Her inquiry as to if Erevan knew or had heard of him was met with a silent negative. The elf tracker did note, after a moment, that Eres’ka Staliirosta was the ruling house of the province of Evandrial, Miralosta’s most eastern region, though he had not heard of anyone named Lethyllis in the royal family. Braddok brooded through much of the morning and ate in silence. When most of the party was finished with their morning meal, the western swordsman spoke. “We should move away from the river and proceed with all caution.” He began. “The goblin army is somewhere between 1 and 2 days ahead of us, now. Thieir size will cause them to move more slowly than our group…and an army, even of goblinoids, needs a lot of water.” This was mulled over by the group. Alaria did not like the idea, siting the river was their best chance to a) arrive to Welford ahead of the army and b)arrive at Welford more speedily. The completion of her errand was never far from her mind. “If we arrive at Welford before the goblins pass by, we can perhaps save some lives.” “Or aid in the town’s defense,” added Coerraine. “True, magess. But we no longer have a way to move upriver.” Duor pointed out, paying no mind to the paladin’s foolish assumption. “We could make a raft.” Haelan offered. “We could.” Conceded Braddok. “But sitting on a raft in the river is a great way to get us all filled with goblin arrows when we pass the army’s position.” Alaria admitted this was not a pleasant prospect. “Besides,” continued Braddok, “we have no indication the goblins are going to pass Welford. If they are heading for Miralosta, as you and Erevan suggest, they may pass by the hamlet without even knowing it is there.” Braddok had a point, Alaria admitted. However, given the state of the elvin outpost, the prospect that the force might pass by or through Welford was not one any of the party wanted to dismiss. Finally, Erevan weighed in, “If they are headed to my people’s realm, they will encounter the stronghold of Evandrial in the eastern wood.” He turned purposely toward Alaria. “Milady, if we can get before the enemy, I must continue westward to warn my people of the coming invasion.” Alaria nodded. “Of course, Erevan. We will do everything we can.” Alaria has always been fascinated with the elves she had met. Erevan was no exception. She had studied their tongue since a young age. She felt an affinity for them and their legendary skill in magic-use. She also admitted to herself that the prospect of actually seeing or visiting the elvin land would be a most welcome experience she had not even considered as part of her foray into the realms beyond R’Hath. Braddok was not at all concerned with the possible problems for Miralosta and made his position clear. “Alaria,” he began gently, “my lady, you hired us to protect you on your errand. Please allow us to do so. The decision is yours, of course. But I strongly recommend we leave the river. If we are set upon and it becomes necessary, we have no way to escape across or down the river. As a smaller group, we can easily overtake a large military force on foot…and gods willing, unnoticed.” Duor had not thought of this and heartily endorsed Braddok’s position. “But we also know we can’t be attacked by them from the river either.” Haelan pointed out. He cringed a bit at Braddok’s dark glare. Alaria calmly packed the small spellbook back away in her pack with her own. She thought a bit before realizing that everyone was looking to her to make the final decision. Braddok’s argument was sound…but she desperately disliked the idea of slinking through the wood on foot in, what she had to consider, “enemy territory.” She felt saddened and defeated that all of the time to be saved to arrive in Welford now seemed to, again, be denied her. As if in answer to her distress, Fen interrupted her thoughts. “Look there!” the druid pointed upriver. Slim barge floated aimlessly near the middle of the river. “The gods are smiling on us, Alaria. Perhaps it is a gift from Tyris for getting her pearl for Tidemaster Kama!” Haelan enthusiastically suggested. All in the party were forced to admit, it was a happy coincidence until they realized they had no way of retrieving the drifting skiv. As it neared, Duor amended, “Not Tyris, hairfoot. Looks more like Desri.” The mood was again darkened as they noticed a body slumped over the side of the vessel, the upper half dragging through the water. A number of arrows could be seen protruding from the corpses back. More arrows were visible sunk into the side of the barge and the few barrels that seemed to be its cargo. “Here.” Said the dwarf plainly. He handed his length of elvin rope to Erevan and set to tying the other end of it to his normal length of hemp. Erevan looked distractedly at the rope, then the dwarf. “An arrow, yeh daft…” Duor quelled his tongue. Even the rock-thick skull of the dwarf felt pity on the elf for the severe loss he had suffered the previous day. “Tie it to one of yer arrows and drag it over here.” He finished as kindly as he could muster. Understanding flashed on the elf’s face and a moment later, the archer was taking aim. His elvish skill was unquestionable as the bolt flew steadily into the prow of the barge. Gently, Erevan and Coerraine led the barge to the riverbank some distance downstream from their camp. Sure enough, the bargeman had been an elf. The barrels, several of which at leaked their contents through holes made by goblin arrows, had begun to fill the floor of the barge with the golden elfvine wine, so treasured in the Freelands and R’Hath. Laying out of view, on his back on the deck of the shallow barge, another elf was peppered with goblin arrows in his chest. A bow and mostly empty quiver lay beside him. Coerraine and Haelan, again, bowed their heads and began funerary rites of their respective religions. “They’ve been dead ‘bout half a day.” Duor observed after a quick examination of the bodies. Alaria and the others looked at Duor in shocked question. “I’m guessing!” defended the dwarf, “I’m no physician.” Further examination, lamentably for Duor, revealed they held no treasure but a few silver coins stamped with the large tree with a circle in the tree’s leaves and topped by a . This was the symbol of the Miralostae nation. The dwarf handed the coins to Erevan. “I can’t do anything with elf coins,” reasoned the dwarf to himself. “Probably traveling in the night,” reasoned Fen. When he received some questioning looks, the druid explained, “The Moonwatcher elves are prone to travel at night. They prefer it and it is safer,” he looked at the bodies, “…usually. As I understand it, anyway.” Erevan confirmed Fen’s statement. He added it was part of the reason that humans rarely encountered elvin merchants or travelers outside of human lands. His people, if they left the security of Miralostae at all, preferred sticking to the woodlands and waterways whenever possible. “Erevan,” Haelan began gently, “shall we burn them like we did the others.” “No.” said the elf plainly. This raised some questioning eyebrows. “Erevan’s right.” Braddok offered. “Setting a pier now, in daylight, could attract notice.” An hour or so later, the elvin winesellers entombed in a shallow grave near the riverside, the party discussed their next move. Alaria refused to pass up the prospect of speed that using the barge allowed them. Nor, she added, would she seek to offend whatever deity it was who offered them this chance. The problem became logistic. The barge, even without the barrels, was not large enough to carry the whole party. It was decided Alaria, Coerraine (who refused to be separated from his duty to his charge) and Haelan would take the barge and proceed by water, staying as far to the opposite bank as the river would allow. Erevan, Fen and Duor would proceed on foot, staying near/within view of the river to better be able to allow assistance or signal for aid if they needed it. The elf tracker, half-elf druid and dwarvish rogue were sure they could move with speed and stealth through the woods. Braddok insisted he would be able to keep up. Erevan insisted, due to Braddok’s armor, he (and Fen if he wanted) move ahead of the band on foot to better survey the region before them…and better keep silent away from the chainmail clad warrior. Coerraine declined Braddok’s offer of his bow. He admitted, somewhat sheepishly ,that he was not trained in the art of archery. This troubled Braddok, but Alaria assured that the spellcraft of herself and Haelan would offer them ample defense should they be assailed from the riverside. And in the event of goblin arrows, Coerraine’s armor and shield would prove invaluable. “Here.” Said Haelan offering him the crystal vial with the pink potion. “Take this. You may need it and I may not be able to reach the shore in time if you require healing.” Erevan nodded a silent thanks and carefully stashed the magical draught in on of his belt pouches. “How far are we?...from Welford.” asked Alaria. “As best I can tell, my lady, 3 days.” Braddok answered. “And if Duor is correct, and I believe he is close to it, we will run into the goblin force sometime later this afternoon or evening.” Alaria nodded in understanding. “Are we ready, then?” she asked. “Where’s Fen?” said Haelan as he clumsily fell into the barge. The other looked around. “Where’s the dwarf?” added Coerraine, his voice full of suspicion. Neither the druid nor the rogue were in the vicinity of the barge…nor the camp. Fen moved swiftly into the woods, spurred onward by the occasional glimpse of the bright blue as the jay flitted from branch to branch, away from camp. His movement through the brush hardly making a sound. Finally, the jay came to land on the thick branch of an oak that stood in the midst of a shadowy glade. Unbeknownst to the druid, he was trailed by Duor. The dwarf thief had been the only one to notice the tail end of the druid’s cloak fade away into the green and brown of the woods while the others discussed how the party would be split. Noting the druid had stopped moving, Duor silently dropped behind a large bush and peered cautiously through the leaves to where the druid stood. Fen pulled the deep hood of his cloak up over his head, set the end of his spear firmly into the ground and bowed his head. To Duor’s amazement, the bird seemd to bow its head in return and fluttered to the forest floor. No sooner had its feet reached the gound then did the bird seem to stretch and change into a pillar of green light, about the size of the druid. When the light subsisded, where the bird and light had been stood another figure, no taller than Fen, similarly garbed in a deep green cloak, its face shrouded in the shadowy depths of the deep hood. The figure also held a spear with a similarly leaf-shaped blade, like Fen’s. Then Duor noted the cresent-moon-within-a-sun clasp holding the figure’s cloak. What followed was a series of the statements in the cryptic tongue of the Ancient Order. Duor strained not to hear the syllables assaulting his brain. Determining he would be unable to either withstand the audible assault or understand any of what was being said, the dwarf decided to preserve his sanity and slunk back as quietly as he could to the rest of the party. What follows is a translation of the conversation between Fen and his superior in the druidic tongue: “Greetings Fen of Moonglade.” Said the figure. The voice was distinctly feminine. “Greeting, sister Sage.” Replied Fen, not raising his head. “What brings the Mouth of Moonglade to the Laklands?” “You, of course, my pupil.” Replied the figure. “I bring word from the Lord of Ash. He commends you on negating the troublesome influence upon Dragonbone Isle but warns your mission is far from over.” “I suspected as much.” Fen answered. “I have learned there is an army of goblins and other servants of evil making approach to the elf-land of Miralostae.” “We know.” Responded the Mouth, nonplussed. “I have been sent to tell you that it is of the utmost concern to the Lord that you continue on this course. The forces of the Chaosbringer are moving to increase their power in a way that can only spell the destruction of the Balance and the realms.” “You know what it is they seek?” Fen answered with surprise. He lifted his head and looked at the druidess. The Mouth of Moonglade‘s own gaze shot up in a scowl to the neophyte half-elf. Fen quickly bowed his head again, forgetting himself. “I…My apologies, Sage, I did not mean…” Fen stuttered. The emissary of the Ancient Order continued without further comment on Fen’s breach of protocol. “We are near to an answer. But it is clear, the forces of this 'Bulgruch' must not be permitted to enter the lands of Miralostae.” “Understood, mentor.” Fen answered humbly. “Can you tell me…” the red-headed half-elf began. In another flash of green light, the Mouth of Moonglade was gone. He looked about to see any other creatures around him. He didn’t see any. With a sigh, Fen made his way, with equal silence and grace through the woods back to the river. As he carefully stepped out from the edge of the forest, he looked upon all of his companions staring at him in inquisition. Duor stood before them all, arm’s folded, with a smirk on his face. Even Erevan’s face seemed disapproving…in his own unemotional way. “Care to tell us what that was all about, druid?” said the smug dwarf. [/QUOTE]
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