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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Balrog" data-source="post: 1667303" data-attributes="member: 3543">The Wizard's Amulet, Part IIAfter several days of rain-drenched travel, a couple members of the party began muttering amongst themselves, doubting the purpose of their new adventure.  Oh sure, Rythannian’s promises of riches “in an abandoned wizard’s tower” were enticing back in the comforts of the city of Reme, but here in the cold, muddy, and miserable wilderness, they didn’t have the same allure they had had just a few long days ago.  Kos Fargost, for one, began muttering quite loudly to anyone who seemed to have a sympathetic ear.    “I would gladly trade your promises for dry clothes, a warm fire, and a frothy mug of ale, oh mysterious one,”  said the Dwarven warrior, gesturing with a stick at the robed and hooded young wizard Rythannian.  “Let’s hear more about this tower now.  I am beginning to think this a waste of time!”  Kos shook his head, his water-logged beard and hair spraying everyone who made the mistake of sitting next to him.  Under the relative cover of the eaves of the trees, the sudden spray of water over his companions was like a shaggy dog coming in from outside and shaking his coat all over his master’s dry, clean house.  Very annoying.    Rythannian, always hooded, with usually just a wisp of his hair dangling just past the shadowy silouette of his face, turned partly to face the rugged Dwarf, but still said nothing.  His eyes glittered though, in the shadows, as he stared through Kos, making the Dwarf most uncomfortable.  But still he said nothing, and Kos finally lowered his muttering to an inaudible whisper.    And as he had done for the last several nights when the companions camped, the mysterious wizard avoided direct questions about their destination.  The only source of information was the archer Phadian Gess, who claimed to be from the Fairhill area, and had lived most of his life there until just several months ago.  He said he knew of the forest where Rythannian had said the tower was located, but according to local legend, the forest was haunted, and few travelled into it.  Even fewer returned.    The party awoke the next morning to a welcome sight.  The storm that had dogged them since leaving Reme had passed, leaving a pleasant view of the countryside.  To the east the edge of the Stoneheart Forest went as far as the eyes could see.  To the west, parallel to the companions’ course, the Great Gelving River, called by locals the Graywash, cut through the land.  Between the river and the forest, the kingdom’s main road, the Tradeway, passed from Reme north into the distance.  The companions looked askance to Rythannian, questioning again his decision to not take the road.  The previous days, the storm had seemed a good excuse, as the party stayed under the eaves of the western edge of the forest.  But their progress had been slow, and still cold and miserable.    “We would make better time on the road,” admitted Phadian.  “The Tradeway goes right into the heart of the Waymarch, the region around Fairhill.  We might even see some fellow travellers and hear some news.”    At the mention of fellow travellers, Rythannian flinched.  His hood scanned to the lands to the south and west, but he said only, “No, we stay on our present course.”  And he picked up his pack and began marching north.    The rest of the group began arguing heatedly.    “He is hiding something!  Bah!” shouted Kos.  “WE follow HIM?”    “Road or rocks? What’s the difference?” pondered Rocbul, scratching his head unconcerned.  His simple attire suggested he had slept on plenty of rocks and dirt in his life.    The paladin Parkadius was more diplomatic.  “I think he wants to be trusted, but just does not know how to get his point across to us yet.  I think we should follow his way for now, but gently try to get more of the story from him before we reach Fairhill.”    “That sounds wise,” said Phadian, “but I think we should prepare another plan just in case.”    The usually silent Galdar spoke up in defense of Rythannian.  “I know a little bit more about where we are going, and feel guilty about any deception on his or my part.  But it is up to him to tell the tale behind this adventure, not me.  I can only assure that the will of the God of Justice is going to be followed here, and I am going to see it through.  We should follow him until he is ready to open up to us.”    “If you say so, priest, then I will stick by the two of you and see justice is done,” said Parkadius.      The others more or less agreed, although Kos was still upset about the situation.  But the group marched after Rythannian, the paladin and the priest leading the way.    That night, around the campfire, it seemed the patience was being rewarded.  Rythannian asked the companions to gather around, and he spoke with soft, but articulate words.  He lowered his hood and the party saw him clearly for the first time.  Though there was no wind that night, his hair seemed to be caught up in a light breeze.  His words were more confident than his manner, which was shy and hesitant.  He related for the first time to the entire group his story.  If not the whole truth, at least most of it.......</blockquote>

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