[IC] Turmoil in Ghelspad (Scarred Lands)

[Hammerhead]

Lydia keeps her nose pressed into her spellbook while the others chat and converse over breakfast, selecting and preparing her spells for the coming day. She wondered how her own spellcraft would compare against the dwarf's. The structure was ancient, therefore living creatures were unlikely. Except for any competitors, of course.

After breaking camp, Lydia walks behind the druid and the two dwarves, trusting the dark elf to guard the rear. The unmistakable feeling of being watched bothers Lydia, and the necromancer considers using a Detect Magic to locate any possible scrying sensors. Instead, Lydia attributes her feeling of unease to simple nerves.

Brushing her dark blond hair from her face, she turns towards Solaril. "A dark elf coexisting, much less travelling, with a pair of dwarves is certainly an oddity," she offers shyly, unsure of how to approach what could be a delicate subject.

 

[Argent Silvermage]

"I see this entire party as an oddity. We have a Druid and a Necromancer breaking bread with two Dwarves and a half-breed dark elf. He and I alone in the same room would be a testiment to strength of porpose." Ashcroft says while idly stroking his mount.

 

[ferretguy]

Sol, did uncle Draeor tell you how we used to live in the lands outside? Until that cursed Virduk moved on us burning village after village.

"Aye, he did touch on it a little but I did discover to try to learn more would usually result in sparring setions to be especilly rough..."

As he travels rear guard position, Solaril looks to the lay of the land and the way the suns light burns away the last shreds of fog that the night had brought. Will I ever be used to this? This outside world is so different, so open...eh?

Brushing her dark blond hair from her face, she turns towards Solaril. "A dark elf coexisting, much less travelling, with a pair of dwarves is certainly an oddity," she offers shyly, unsure of how to approach what could be a delicate subject.

Turning from his thoughts, he looks towards the mage, seeing the curious look in her eyes he smiles. "Yes, it does seem....odd. Several years ago I would never of thought of traveling with such a group, I probably would of been looking for ways to end their lives. But, due to a stubborn old dwarf, I learned that the ways of our peoples were actually destroying something greater then us. I do hope that by my actions with my new relations I can someday show there are more important things then a foolish war between our peoples."

 

[Argent Silvermage]

Ashcroft smiles at Solaril and says, "There is great wisdom in your words. I hope you get your wish." The fire haired druid scans the countyside wondering at all the beauty. Spitfire whinnies and prances a bit sensing his bondeds joy.
"Lydia? Spitfire wants to know if you would like to ride for a while."

 

[Voadam]

Brushing her dark blond hair from her face, she turns towards Solaril. "A dark elf coexisting, much less travelling, with a pair of dwarves is certainly an oddity," she offers shyly, unsure of how to approach what could be a delicate subject.

Harl's face flushes red with anger and his mailed fist clenches as if your question is the prelude to an insulting black challenge to fight, a fight it looks like Harl has fought before more than once. He looks ready to charge then in a flash the mood seems to have passed and Harl relaxes his gauntleted fist and quirks his mouth into a wry grin and speaks in dwarven

*"Family is the bedrock upon which our lives are built."*

Then he chuckles to himself and breathes deeply the misty air.

 

[Torillan]

After afew hours of riding, you traverse a rise, only to be confronted by a narrow valley below strewn with rocks and boulders. It is quite evident that horses will no longer be usable. It also looks nigh impossible to go around, for sheer rock faces rise 100 feet on both sides. At the dead end of the 1/4 mile chasm, around 40-50 feet above the bottom, you see what appears to be a cairn on a ledge in front of a fissure in the rock. Harl notices that a narrow game trail meanders through the bottom of the chasm.

The sun is directly overhead, so it appears to be around noon. Any fog has since burned off, and the warmth of the sun drives away the last vestiges of chill.

 

[Argent Silvermage]

"Blazes!" Ashcroft says. "That looks too much like a trap to me. I would prefer we not wander into an ambush." He dismounts Spitfire and pets his bondbeast. "It appears we may have to part company my friend. you wait here."

 

[Voadam]

"Blazes!" Ashcroft says. "That looks too much like a trap to me. I would prefer we not wander into an ambush." He dismounts Spitfire and pets his bondbeast. "It appears we may have to part company my friend. you wait here."

"Of course it looks defensible, it's dwarven made. Just keep your eyes peeled on that rim, the game trail below, and for critters behind boulders. Did we find out who's tomb this is or what traps, locks, or crypt guardians he left behind?"

 

[Paxus Asclepius]

Torvin ambles onwards, oblivious to the caution of his comrades, unless he bumps into Harl's back.

 

[Torillan]

"Of course it looks defensible, it's dwarven made. Just keep your eyes peeled on that rim, the game trail below, and for critters behind boulders. Did we find out who's tomb this is or what traps, locks, or crypt guardians he left behind?"

(No details except that a chief and his wife are buried there.)