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NOW LIVE! Into the Woods--new character species, eerie monsters, and haunting villains to populate the woodlands of your D&D games.
EN Story telling
- Thread starter megamania
- Start date
Re: *** Story Break 2 ***
Well, same toya!... If it doesn't suit the plotline to have Celina be slept, then write something on what did happen, instead... (like why he would lay there in a downpour, after Gnorvald turned invisible).
Maybe his ghostly ancestors were busy visiting him, at the time? (Silver Moon, I believe, set that up, but we have yet to see it happen).
ejja_1 said:
Well, same toya!... If it doesn't suit the plotline to have Celina be slept, then write something on what did happen, instead... (like why he would lay there in a downpour, after Gnorvald turned invisible).
Maybe his ghostly ancestors were busy visiting him, at the time? (Silver Moon, I believe, set that up, but we have yet to see it happen).
Silver Moon
Adventurer
***(More out-of-game-dialogue)**ejja_1 said:
Steal away, any and all things written by me are "group property" for anyone to pick up and run with, all I ask is that Skiggles continues to be a dog.
BTW, I'm still plugging this thread over on the "Writing" board of Randomling's House. Nobody has joined in yet, but I'll keep trying.
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Prelude to the discovery of the Tomb and it's prophecy
Celina drifted off into sleep with the others after an exausting day, he slept fitfully at first but then fell into a deep slumber.
In his dreams his father and mother stood with him on the shores of Evneska, the place of his birth and home to his clan. They walked along the shore, and watched as the waves crashed upon the shore. It was his peacefull place where his mind went when he needed to escape, for the times when music just wasnt enough. His mother was beautifull, and had a voice that rang like windchimes in a cool autumn breeze. His father was tall and proud, a warrior strong in both body and mind.
His father spoke to him in his mind, telling him of events yet to come. He told Celina of the sacrifices that his friends and he had to make, and of the loss of life they would have to endure.
He told him of a talisman that they would find in the bowels of thje Dwarf Kings barrow, and how that talisman would aid them in the destruction of a great evil. Once his father had told him these things, his mother whispered in his ear a spell song that he was only to play when the moment was right. She said that he would know when to sing, that his very soul would ache to release the words from his lips.
Then they were together on the shore, but Celina was as if he were on a boat sailing away from them. He cried out for his parents embrace, and heard their voices one last time.
"When your time is done we will meet again, until then be true to thine friends for they are your family now."
Celina woke with a start to the rain that cascaded down from above, and the voice of Rix as the flat of his sword impacted his rear. " Ouch! I told you im not that way you barbarian!" Celina rolled to his feet and found that his lute had filled with rain water.
" My Lute! We must get out of this downpour before we catch our deaths!" Celina started to run and almost slipped and fell into a large puddle, as the dog Bri had called Skiggles had charged past him towards the ruins.
Celina hoped the rain hid his tears as he remembered his dream, he was able to reign in his emotions before they had entered the ruins. He caught site of Drakhar, and the mirror image of his own sorrow on the dwarfs countanance. It was then that Celina decided to follow the dwarf to what ever end he may meet, and to stand next to his friend when the darkness finally came.
Celina drifted off into sleep with the others after an exausting day, he slept fitfully at first but then fell into a deep slumber.
In his dreams his father and mother stood with him on the shores of Evneska, the place of his birth and home to his clan. They walked along the shore, and watched as the waves crashed upon the shore. It was his peacefull place where his mind went when he needed to escape, for the times when music just wasnt enough. His mother was beautifull, and had a voice that rang like windchimes in a cool autumn breeze. His father was tall and proud, a warrior strong in both body and mind.
His father spoke to him in his mind, telling him of events yet to come. He told Celina of the sacrifices that his friends and he had to make, and of the loss of life they would have to endure.
He told him of a talisman that they would find in the bowels of thje Dwarf Kings barrow, and how that talisman would aid them in the destruction of a great evil. Once his father had told him these things, his mother whispered in his ear a spell song that he was only to play when the moment was right. She said that he would know when to sing, that his very soul would ache to release the words from his lips.
Then they were together on the shore, but Celina was as if he were on a boat sailing away from them. He cried out for his parents embrace, and heard their voices one last time.
"When your time is done we will meet again, until then be true to thine friends for they are your family now."
Celina woke with a start to the rain that cascaded down from above, and the voice of Rix as the flat of his sword impacted his rear. " Ouch! I told you im not that way you barbarian!" Celina rolled to his feet and found that his lute had filled with rain water.
" My Lute! We must get out of this downpour before we catch our deaths!" Celina started to run and almost slipped and fell into a large puddle, as the dog Bri had called Skiggles had charged past him towards the ruins.
Celina hoped the rain hid his tears as he remembered his dream, he was able to reign in his emotions before they had entered the ruins. He caught site of Drakhar, and the mirror image of his own sorrow on the dwarfs countanance. It was then that Celina decided to follow the dwarf to what ever end he may meet, and to stand next to his friend when the darkness finally came.
Elsewhere...
That same night, others were visited in dreams, as well. Having been trapped for so long, The Morgarth reached out, impatient for release. With the ebbing of daylight, it gathered its powers, and once more called upon the Lord of Secrets in Darkness. Darkness came, and filled the tomb where The Morgarth chafed. It bowed before its master, a humble, if disloyal, servant.
"Where is your servant? Why do I still wait here, in this body?" The Morgarth asked the Lord.
"He comesss, Massster. Even now, he comesss..." hissed the Lord.
"He is too slow."
"Ssslow, but sssure... He is bringing you aid... but the aides mussst not sussspect!..."
"Even so, hurry him along. This body is too old. I will have a new one, soon!"
"Yesss, Massster!..." The darkness seemed to coalesce, then left the tomb. Alone again, The Morgarth sat its body down. Composing its thoughts, it gathered power, for a time, then projected a portion of its self to another tomb.
There, it cowed its servants, again, and ordered all things to its will. No progress had been made on breaching the barriers, but what did one expect from such creatures? Still, he could put the fear of Morgarth into them, for their failure!
Gazing upon the robe, mask, and cloak, It created a lesser form of itself within the throne room. While this miniscule fraction of Its might could do little, it was more than enough to cow the miserable creatures that had flocked to Its banner. The form sat on its throne, ordering its new realm thoughout the night... There were many things to do, before daylight returned!
The Lord of Secrets Hidden in Darkness, meanwhile, carried out its new orders to hurry its servant along. He being awake, it couldn't use dreams, but "illuminated" things within his mind with darkness, calling them to his attention, and then revealing their secrets to him...
While their time together was interrupted, the Lord then had a chance to whisper to his servant in sleep, when his mind was the most receptive. The location of the Tomb was revealed, and a sense of urgency was instilled in him.
"Come to me!..." his Lord said.
In yet another place, Pelor and Pholtus sat, watching their followers. Something impinged upon Pelor's thoughts, and he quickly searched for the source of the oddity... One of his minor missionary priests, it seemed, was being called! Now who would dare call upon one of his priests? He examined the energies carefully.
Not who, but what! Ah well, this one had a little light in him, but not enough to be worth the trouble he so often caused. He had, not too long ago, broken the nose of one of the high priests at his temple in Lundria, and been banished until he gained 100 converts. So far, he had attempted none. He would never be much use as a priest. The boy was from the streets, and had ever been too much of an urchin and too little of an ecclesiastic. He was a brawler, but not even fit for the War Domain.
Looking over the philosophy that called the young man, Pelor found it not at odds with his own ends, and decided to let the boy follow his own path. He would allow Finn what blessings he had already learned, while freeing him to find his own path.
That same night, others were visited in dreams, as well. Having been trapped for so long, The Morgarth reached out, impatient for release. With the ebbing of daylight, it gathered its powers, and once more called upon the Lord of Secrets in Darkness. Darkness came, and filled the tomb where The Morgarth chafed. It bowed before its master, a humble, if disloyal, servant.
"Where is your servant? Why do I still wait here, in this body?" The Morgarth asked the Lord.
"He comesss, Massster. Even now, he comesss..." hissed the Lord.
"He is too slow."
"Ssslow, but sssure... He is bringing you aid... but the aides mussst not sussspect!..."
"Even so, hurry him along. This body is too old. I will have a new one, soon!"
"Yesss, Massster!..." The darkness seemed to coalesce, then left the tomb. Alone again, The Morgarth sat its body down. Composing its thoughts, it gathered power, for a time, then projected a portion of its self to another tomb.
There, it cowed its servants, again, and ordered all things to its will. No progress had been made on breaching the barriers, but what did one expect from such creatures? Still, he could put the fear of Morgarth into them, for their failure!
Gazing upon the robe, mask, and cloak, It created a lesser form of itself within the throne room. While this miniscule fraction of Its might could do little, it was more than enough to cow the miserable creatures that had flocked to Its banner. The form sat on its throne, ordering its new realm thoughout the night... There were many things to do, before daylight returned!
The Lord of Secrets Hidden in Darkness, meanwhile, carried out its new orders to hurry its servant along. He being awake, it couldn't use dreams, but "illuminated" things within his mind with darkness, calling them to his attention, and then revealing their secrets to him...
While their time together was interrupted, the Lord then had a chance to whisper to his servant in sleep, when his mind was the most receptive. The location of the Tomb was revealed, and a sense of urgency was instilled in him.
"Come to me!..." his Lord said.
In yet another place, Pelor and Pholtus sat, watching their followers. Something impinged upon Pelor's thoughts, and he quickly searched for the source of the oddity... One of his minor missionary priests, it seemed, was being called! Now who would dare call upon one of his priests? He examined the energies carefully.
Not who, but what! Ah well, this one had a little light in him, but not enough to be worth the trouble he so often caused. He had, not too long ago, broken the nose of one of the high priests at his temple in Lundria, and been banished until he gained 100 converts. So far, he had attempted none. He would never be much use as a priest. The boy was from the streets, and had ever been too much of an urchin and too little of an ecclesiastic. He was a brawler, but not even fit for the War Domain.
Looking over the philosophy that called the young man, Pelor found it not at odds with his own ends, and decided to let the boy follow his own path. He would allow Finn what blessings he had already learned, while freeing him to find his own path.
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Day 2
So after adjusting his belt and waiting for the rest of the party to finish going through the weapons in the ancient Dwarven storeroom, Finn drew his new sword (which, long as it was, made it harder than he thought it should be).
"Okay, people," he called, "are we ready to go, yet? Has everyone got all their stuff from the ruin where we slept? We need to get going!"
"No," said Gnorvald, "like I said, before, I'm not going! Remember the fight with the Kobold Sorcerer in the abandoned Temple? Remember the runes, there? I swear the roundish one was treasure! I'm going where that is! We can always go hunt King Skaad later! He's been dead more than a hundred years, he can wait a couple more days!"
"More than a hundred years?" asked Celina. "More like a thousand, and some... and didn't we already tell you that we are all going west? Where is it that you think the road leads you?"
"Okay, okay!" grumbled the Gnome. "I wasn't going to tell you this, but... I think I've figured out some of those runes from the temple... There's a powerful artifact, and it might help you on your quest. I had a dream, last night, and I think I saw a vision of where it is, but I can't get it, by myself! I might need a Rogue to ope the way for me, or some fighters to driveoff guardians!..."
"Then you'd better stick with us, unless you think you can find another!" said Rix. "We're all going West. Now what is this Artifact that you think you've found?"
"Pah!" spat the Gnome. "You think I'll tell you? Come and see! Come with me!"
"Well," said Finn, "anyone else in favor of turning aside?" He looked around, at Rix, Bri, Celina, Drakhar, and back to Gnorvald. "Looks like you're outvoted, Gnorvald... You coming with us? I'd hate to split up the party..."
The gnome ran his left hand through his hair, while gritting his teeth. He scowled at the dratted party, then asked himself who needed them. They were generally more trouble than they were worth, even if their abilities might have been useful. He sighed.
"If you want to go chasing after long-lost Dwarven Kingdoms, instead of valuable artifacts, then go! I'm surprised, at you, anyway; I thought at least YOU would have more sense, Rix!"
Rix smiled. The Gnome shrugged, turned, and walked away. As he followed the water-channel out of the ruins, he called back, over his shoulder:
"Don't be surprised if, the next time you see me, I'm running everything! I won't forget you, my erstwhile companions! Fare free, since that is your choice!"
Lining up behind Finn and Bri, the others made no reply. Gnorvald stopped to watch them ride away westward, until they were lost from view among the ruins.
Good riddance to bad rubbish!, he thought to himself. Then he turned and headed north down the road, again, looking for Roland's Tomb, seen in a nightly vision...
So after adjusting his belt and waiting for the rest of the party to finish going through the weapons in the ancient Dwarven storeroom, Finn drew his new sword (which, long as it was, made it harder than he thought it should be).
"Okay, people," he called, "are we ready to go, yet? Has everyone got all their stuff from the ruin where we slept? We need to get going!"
"No," said Gnorvald, "like I said, before, I'm not going! Remember the fight with the Kobold Sorcerer in the abandoned Temple? Remember the runes, there? I swear the roundish one was treasure! I'm going where that is! We can always go hunt King Skaad later! He's been dead more than a hundred years, he can wait a couple more days!"
"More than a hundred years?" asked Celina. "More like a thousand, and some... and didn't we already tell you that we are all going west? Where is it that you think the road leads you?"
"Okay, okay!" grumbled the Gnome. "I wasn't going to tell you this, but... I think I've figured out some of those runes from the temple... There's a powerful artifact, and it might help you on your quest. I had a dream, last night, and I think I saw a vision of where it is, but I can't get it, by myself! I might need a Rogue to ope the way for me, or some fighters to driveoff guardians!..."
"Then you'd better stick with us, unless you think you can find another!" said Rix. "We're all going West. Now what is this Artifact that you think you've found?"
"Pah!" spat the Gnome. "You think I'll tell you? Come and see! Come with me!"
"Well," said Finn, "anyone else in favor of turning aside?" He looked around, at Rix, Bri, Celina, Drakhar, and back to Gnorvald. "Looks like you're outvoted, Gnorvald... You coming with us? I'd hate to split up the party..."
The gnome ran his left hand through his hair, while gritting his teeth. He scowled at the dratted party, then asked himself who needed them. They were generally more trouble than they were worth, even if their abilities might have been useful. He sighed.
"If you want to go chasing after long-lost Dwarven Kingdoms, instead of valuable artifacts, then go! I'm surprised, at you, anyway; I thought at least YOU would have more sense, Rix!"
Rix smiled. The Gnome shrugged, turned, and walked away. As he followed the water-channel out of the ruins, he called back, over his shoulder:
"Don't be surprised if, the next time you see me, I'm running everything! I won't forget you, my erstwhile companions! Fare free, since that is your choice!"
Lining up behind Finn and Bri, the others made no reply. Gnorvald stopped to watch them ride away westward, until they were lost from view among the ruins.
Good riddance to bad rubbish!, he thought to himself. Then he turned and headed north down the road, again, looking for Roland's Tomb, seen in a nightly vision...
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Silver Moon
Adventurer
Brieanna had been with the adventurers for two full days at this point, and was reflecting upon the opinions that she had developed of each. "The human boy named Finn is not recognized by any of his companions as a leader, yet that appeared to be the role he is developing into. Similarly, the older human, Rix, remains quiet most of the time, yet when he speaks the others all seemed to listen to him. Celina is generally ignored by all of them, and yet appears to be the most brilliant of the group. And the elf seems to have no problem with being so greatly underestimated, perhaps trying to influence us in his more subtle method of nearly continuous song.
Most interesting thus far is my relationship with the dwarf Drakhar. He gives the appearance of being in a perpetual foul mood, yet had become one of the friendliest in the group towards me. Aside from one brief misunderstanding when he attempted to feed the baby otters to the eagle Thrindor, thinking that I had actually brought them along as fresh food for the bird, we have got long splendidly. Perhaps it is because we both feel like outsiders, having been raised in strict upbringings with little contact outside of our own races."
Her thoughts return to her physical surroundings, as Finn stops his horse alongside the top of a grassy hill with a stream running down it. He states "This looks like a good place to camp. Grass and water for the mounts, and also defensible high ground. Brie, the stream appears to flow into a pond at the bottom of the hill, behind those trees, if you care to wash up again." "Thank you, I believe I shall" she states, as Drakhar helps remove the two baskets from her back.
She trots down the hill, and once blocked from the party's sight, removes her jerkin and charges into the pond. She actually could care less if they gaze upon her body, but she has come to appreciate privacy that the baths allow, so has continued this ruse of modesty. The shallow pond has a muddy bottom, which her rapid entry into has stirred the water up into a brown murky frenzy. She decides to walk very slowly, to allowing the water to settle again. Her front right hoof then strikes something hard, a submerged log? Another tab confirms her initial instinct, not wood but metal.
Feeling around the metal appears to be the shape of a man, a full suit of plate mail! She contemplates the best way to remove it from the pond, deciding upon the form of a giant gorilla. She completes the transformation, using the combined dexterity and strength of the primate to lift the waterlogged armor from the reeds and muck that have caked over it. She deposits it on the shore, and watches as gallons of water flow out of it. She then transforms back into her normal form, and reattaches her jerkin.
Lifting the helmet visor, she sees a human skeletal head still inside. She closes the visor again, and again lifts up the armor. It is still heavy, due to the weight of the metal, but with the water now drained from it she is capable of carrying it up the hill. At the first sight of her carrying what appears to be an armored man the others stop setting up camp. She lies the armor down on the grass near them, saying, "He was submerged in the pond. For how long I cannot say."
A quick examination shows that the armor is rusted in several places. Two leather sheathes are rotted, as is the belt holding them. One sheathe has a rusty longsword, the other holding a dagger that is in excellent condition. "Must be magical," Drakhar states. Also in the belt is a bone scroll case. Celina carefully removes it, stating "The seal to the cap is waxed. The contents may still be dry."
The case is open, and two dry pieces of parchment are removed and handed to Celina. The bard states "Both pages are in magical script. The first appears to be a song. The second is scroll with three wizard spells: Polymorph Self, Power Word Stun, and Prismatic Wall." He thinks and comments "The scroll is probably one page from a larger volume, given where all three spell names fall in the alphabet." "And the song?" Finn asks. Celina replies "I had best carefully study this for a while. Magical songs are not something to take lightly."
The party continues to study the remains of the drowned knight, except for Brieanna. She is now carefully watching Finn's horse. Skiggles had alerted her to fact that it had an odd smell to it. When Celina had stated the name of the "Polymorph Self" spell the animal had suddenly moved its head in a swift and startled jolt. Brieanna was never one to believe in coincidences. "Could this be someone working for Morgarth?" she pondered. She almost tells the others, but then reconsiders. "Best to wait until we reach a community where we can get another horse. If I force the confrontation now then Finn will be without a mount, and might look to me as a substitution. I have not allowed anyone to ride upon me since Roland died, and I prefer to keep it that way."
Drakhar hands the magical dagger to Rix. He casually examines one side of it, and then turns it over. On the other side, molded into the steel along the hilt is some type of family crest with initials carved beside it. Rix's face suddenly turns pale, and his hands begin to shake. He softly speaks, quiet as a whisper but heard by all around him, "No, it can't be!"
Most interesting thus far is my relationship with the dwarf Drakhar. He gives the appearance of being in a perpetual foul mood, yet had become one of the friendliest in the group towards me. Aside from one brief misunderstanding when he attempted to feed the baby otters to the eagle Thrindor, thinking that I had actually brought them along as fresh food for the bird, we have got long splendidly. Perhaps it is because we both feel like outsiders, having been raised in strict upbringings with little contact outside of our own races."
Her thoughts return to her physical surroundings, as Finn stops his horse alongside the top of a grassy hill with a stream running down it. He states "This looks like a good place to camp. Grass and water for the mounts, and also defensible high ground. Brie, the stream appears to flow into a pond at the bottom of the hill, behind those trees, if you care to wash up again." "Thank you, I believe I shall" she states, as Drakhar helps remove the two baskets from her back.
She trots down the hill, and once blocked from the party's sight, removes her jerkin and charges into the pond. She actually could care less if they gaze upon her body, but she has come to appreciate privacy that the baths allow, so has continued this ruse of modesty. The shallow pond has a muddy bottom, which her rapid entry into has stirred the water up into a brown murky frenzy. She decides to walk very slowly, to allowing the water to settle again. Her front right hoof then strikes something hard, a submerged log? Another tab confirms her initial instinct, not wood but metal.
Feeling around the metal appears to be the shape of a man, a full suit of plate mail! She contemplates the best way to remove it from the pond, deciding upon the form of a giant gorilla. She completes the transformation, using the combined dexterity and strength of the primate to lift the waterlogged armor from the reeds and muck that have caked over it. She deposits it on the shore, and watches as gallons of water flow out of it. She then transforms back into her normal form, and reattaches her jerkin.
Lifting the helmet visor, she sees a human skeletal head still inside. She closes the visor again, and again lifts up the armor. It is still heavy, due to the weight of the metal, but with the water now drained from it she is capable of carrying it up the hill. At the first sight of her carrying what appears to be an armored man the others stop setting up camp. She lies the armor down on the grass near them, saying, "He was submerged in the pond. For how long I cannot say."
A quick examination shows that the armor is rusted in several places. Two leather sheathes are rotted, as is the belt holding them. One sheathe has a rusty longsword, the other holding a dagger that is in excellent condition. "Must be magical," Drakhar states. Also in the belt is a bone scroll case. Celina carefully removes it, stating "The seal to the cap is waxed. The contents may still be dry."
The case is open, and two dry pieces of parchment are removed and handed to Celina. The bard states "Both pages are in magical script. The first appears to be a song. The second is scroll with three wizard spells: Polymorph Self, Power Word Stun, and Prismatic Wall." He thinks and comments "The scroll is probably one page from a larger volume, given where all three spell names fall in the alphabet." "And the song?" Finn asks. Celina replies "I had best carefully study this for a while. Magical songs are not something to take lightly."
The party continues to study the remains of the drowned knight, except for Brieanna. She is now carefully watching Finn's horse. Skiggles had alerted her to fact that it had an odd smell to it. When Celina had stated the name of the "Polymorph Self" spell the animal had suddenly moved its head in a swift and startled jolt. Brieanna was never one to believe in coincidences. "Could this be someone working for Morgarth?" she pondered. She almost tells the others, but then reconsiders. "Best to wait until we reach a community where we can get another horse. If I force the confrontation now then Finn will be without a mount, and might look to me as a substitution. I have not allowed anyone to ride upon me since Roland died, and I prefer to keep it that way."
Drakhar hands the magical dagger to Rix. He casually examines one side of it, and then turns it over. On the other side, molded into the steel along the hilt is some type of family crest with initials carved beside it. Rix's face suddenly turns pale, and his hands begin to shake. He softly speaks, quiet as a whisper but heard by all around him, "No, it can't be!"
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Meanwhile...
Having been "abandoned" by his "compatriots", Gnorvald walked a short way, until he came, again, to where their camp had been, before the downpour of the previous night. Once there, he saw the undisturbed remains of the fire, and poked about in it, for a bit.
Finding the semi-burned remnants of the hand, there, he realized what had gone wrong, the night before. He stuffed it into his case for later use, then looked back towards the now-distant ruins. Seeing no one in sight, he stepped into the nearby woods for cover, then allowed his shape to shift back to normal. He expanded, in all directions, becoming a light shade of blue.
He stopped and flexed his muscles, for a few moments, searching the underbrush with his eyes as he did. Satisfied, he once more turned invisible, and took to the air, looking for the Cairn of stone that he had seen in his dreams the night before.
It wasn't as easy to find from the air as he had thought it would be, and he spent most of the day searching for it, after the duration of flight wore off. Eventually, he found the deserted Cairn within the forest's canopy.
It was a rocky little knoll, secluded within a hollow, and surrounded by oak trees, dripping with moss. It seemed a lonely place, and showed no signs of having been visited. The grass within the area was long and tousled, and there were no paths.
Gnorvald waded through the grass, which was barely ankle-deep and no hindrance to him, now, and looked at the Cairn, itself. This was the place! He searched for the door he knew must be there... Gripping it with large, hard claws, he slowly bent it until it sprang free. Grinning so that his fangs showed, he stooped and entered the Cairn.
As he eagerly pressed forward, his horns struck something, and he was thrown back. Agh! Some sort of Guard, or Ward! This would take a little more time!...
He bagan by casting Detect Magic, and settled in for as long as it might take. The other adventurers would've come in handy, now... He could have used Rix, especially, to aid in locating any non-magical traps. But he was patient. It had taken decades to get here; if it took days to get to the Horn, it would all be well worth it in the end!...
Having been "abandoned" by his "compatriots", Gnorvald walked a short way, until he came, again, to where their camp had been, before the downpour of the previous night. Once there, he saw the undisturbed remains of the fire, and poked about in it, for a bit.
Finding the semi-burned remnants of the hand, there, he realized what had gone wrong, the night before. He stuffed it into his case for later use, then looked back towards the now-distant ruins. Seeing no one in sight, he stepped into the nearby woods for cover, then allowed his shape to shift back to normal. He expanded, in all directions, becoming a light shade of blue.
He stopped and flexed his muscles, for a few moments, searching the underbrush with his eyes as he did. Satisfied, he once more turned invisible, and took to the air, looking for the Cairn of stone that he had seen in his dreams the night before.
It wasn't as easy to find from the air as he had thought it would be, and he spent most of the day searching for it, after the duration of flight wore off. Eventually, he found the deserted Cairn within the forest's canopy.
It was a rocky little knoll, secluded within a hollow, and surrounded by oak trees, dripping with moss. It seemed a lonely place, and showed no signs of having been visited. The grass within the area was long and tousled, and there were no paths.
Gnorvald waded through the grass, which was barely ankle-deep and no hindrance to him, now, and looked at the Cairn, itself. This was the place! He searched for the door he knew must be there... Gripping it with large, hard claws, he slowly bent it until it sprang free. Grinning so that his fangs showed, he stooped and entered the Cairn.
As he eagerly pressed forward, his horns struck something, and he was thrown back. Agh! Some sort of Guard, or Ward! This would take a little more time!...
He bagan by casting Detect Magic, and settled in for as long as it might take. The other adventurers would've come in handy, now... He could have used Rix, especially, to aid in locating any non-magical traps. But he was patient. It had taken decades to get here; if it took days to get to the Horn, it would all be well worth it in the end!...
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