NOW LIVE! Today's the day you meet your new best friend. You don’t have to leave Wolfy behind... In 'Pets & Sidekicks' your companions level up with you!

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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Medriev" data-source="post: 4500509" data-attributes="member: 21864">Chapter 8 - Guardians of the Forest (Part 1)Serethira Bralkiir embraced Berdar Djaler and turned away as Enlishia took her own turn to embrace her former mentor. The tiefling now wore a head scarf to cover her horns for the day was bright and warm for the season. Beside her, Kel remained hooded for her skin was as much a giveaway of her identity as her pure white hair. Once the goodbyes had been said, the six companions watched Berdar leave, surrounded by an escort of Purple Dragons and leading the draft horses who had pulled his wagon all the way from the Moonsea. When he turned a bend in the road and passed out of sight, hidden by the trees of the Hullack Forest, Kel waved them towards the overgrown remains of a trail that snaked south east into the forest. It was certainly warmer here than it was in the mountains to the east and the walk was pleasant as they headed deeper into the forest seeking the ruin that the goblin had held a map to.As they walked, Thira mused on the Fiendish Foot and what it might be capable of. She herself had demonic ancestry and she had been fascinated from an early age by the power of her ancestors. Berdar had taken her in and channeled her thirst for knowledge into a useful mastery of magic but still she wondered and feared. Would she be tempted when she came face to face with the real power of her bloodline or would she turn away? She could not tell.Thira looked ahead then as the vegetation around the overgrown trail was thinning.“Something burns ahead,” said Erlmoor from the back of the group. “I see smoke.”“I see it to,” said Lavren.“As do I,” said Kel.“Damn the eyes of the elves,” muttered Thira under her breath, quoting a book she had read as a child.“Make ready,” said Dulvarna. “few good things lurk in forests in winter.”They drew weapons and readied spells before Dulvarna led them cautiously into the clearing ahead of them. They had stumbled upon a camp, at the heart of which was an ornate pavilion with fifteen smaller tents surrounding it. All were coloured in various hues of deep green and blue. Around camp fires sat elves in various weary postures, some wounded and others tending to them. The nearest leapt to their feet at once, drawing back bows and nocking arrows to strings. Others continued working upon the wounded and building a pyre, gathering firewood and freshly picked flowers while still others sorted items from a pile of battle spoils that included black shields and well-polished, steel blades. The source of the smoke that Erlmoor and the others had seen lay beyond the camp. There, a grassy meadow rolled down into the still waters of a shallow, ice limned bog. There, next to the bog, a macabre heap of humanoid corpses had been put to the flame. Between the camp and the burning bodies Thira picked out signs of a small but intense battle with arrows and broken weapons lodged in the ground. Even her eyes, less keen than elf or drow, could pick out blood staining the grass. The elves had faught a fierce battle here and seemingly, despite their hurts, won.“Who comes to our camp?” said one of the archers at once. “Identify yourselves.”“We are in service to Lord Padraig of Winterhaven,” said Dulvarna sternly. “And we came this way seeking a ruin that may be allied with goblins that have plagued that place.”“Then you should speak with our leaders,” answered the elf quietly. “We will take you to them once the funeral here is ended.”The six stood grimly at the edge of the camp as elves carried wooden litters into the camp from the far side bearing the bodies of nearly a dozen of their fallen to the central pavilion. Lavren bowed his head, recognizing the occasion for what it was and Dulvarna, Enlishia and Erlmoor all felt the pain of their recent losses anew. Thira and Kel, meanwhile, simply looked on curiously, neither having seen the like before. At the pavilion, a cleric in a winged helm awaited the fallen and beside her stood a hooded acolyte and a proud elf lord with a bandaged wound on his head. The acolyte carried an incense burner and moved to lead the procession toward the pyres to the east of the camp. The priestess and the elf lord followed and as each was laid upon a pyre, the priestess led the gathered elves in a mournful low song.“They lament the lost years of their kin,” whispered Lavren to the others. “And wish them well on the journey to Arvandor.”When all had been laid upon a pyre, each was set alight in turn by the acolyte and the elves stood for a few moments as their song faded into the woodland afternoon. Then, the elf lord and the priestess made their way back to the pavilion and the other elves dispersed around the camp. As the two leaders reached the central pavilion they beckoned to the archers who had first met the companions and waved them forward.</blockquote>

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