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Message: <blockquote data-quote="GlassEye" data-source="post: 6300669" data-attributes="member: 40413">[sblock=Mirra]With Mother Telka’s ring on her finger and her purchases from the Mystic Pearl Mirra is ready to travel south to the border of the Seithr Mountains.  The journey through the Landadel Baronies is long, a full three weeks passing through towns and villages speaking Low Landellian then Middle Landellian to a scattering of towns speaking High Landellian and into wilder, more remote areas where the residents speak Old Landellian and little else.  A fey days beyond the town where the residents, the first she’s found since leaving Venza who have heard of the Chernyj Wood, gave her directions Mirra runs across an itinerant merchant with a carved and painted cart piled high with goods pulled by a small white pony.The man is old but hardy, barrel-chested with a long grey beard that covers a good portion of it.  He’s wrapped in a heavy green wool cloak and a fancy hood with the trim dyed red and a pewter and brass pin in the shape of a fish pinned to it.”Aye-o, the name’s Jyman Trout and you’ve been in the Chernyj Wood for a day or more, I’d reckon.”  He motions to the trees surrounding the old road half lost under the forest’s detritus.  ”Regular light and airy here where they been cleared a bit, but they get dark and odd things, old things, lurk in the deep wood.  Best you stay the night at Castle Danyll.  I’m heading there myself to sell needles and lace and the like to those young ladies in the castle.  I expect to be there before nightfall.  You’re welcome to travel along.”It is late afternoon and a fog is beginning to rise with the warm air of the valley they are traveling.<img src="http://imageshack.com/a/img841/886/c53u.png" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />. . . . Jyman Trout . . . .[/sblock][sblock=Tsaaruk, Pirvinia, Samad, Garadh]Though it pains Tsaaruk to leave enemies behind them Goswald leads the group away from the monastery grounds.  With Mazi scouting alternately ahead and then behind to make they aren’t being followed the group feels pretty confident they were able to get far enough away from the site that ambush, from the corbies, at least, is not probable.That first night Garadh takes a turn for the worse and by morning his skin is flushed and his eyes gleam with an unnatural fever.  He starts at the least sound as if his senses have become hypersensitized.By midday Goswald leads them down into a forested valley and comes across an old road half lost from neglect.  He brightens though he looks east and west along the road to determine direction.  ”Castle Danyll must be this way,” he mutters.  He turns westward onto the road.By late afternoon dark shadows are already stretching across the road and the sky is darkening.  The warm air of the valley rises up into a patchy fog that grows denser by the minute.  ”It’s not far now, I think we should press on.”  He glances at Garadh and everyone takes his meaning even though he says nothing else.[sblock=OOC]Garadh takes two points of CON damage from the disease.[/sblock]<img src="http://img713.imageshack.us/img713/716/w26c.png" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />. . . Brother Goswald . . .[/sblock]</blockquote>

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