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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Hrothgar" data-source="post: 3450757" data-attributes="member: 22226">The Heroes decision is difficult.  Cyz merely drops her head as a single tear runs down her cheek.  Her fellow villagers are guaranteed a slow, agonzing death.  Cyz says nothing, her face down.  What could the Heroes hope to accomplish?  Rescue a band of slaves and let them wander across Erenland?  Or get themselves killed?  Decisions are difficult in the world of Shadow.  But, priorities are not.  And the Heroes primary focus was rescuing Aislinn.Passing down the steep southwest, the Heroes enter once again the Ohr River valley.  Finding a shallow ford, the Heroes make their way across the cool waters.  Valurel even manages to stick a few fish in the clear pools with his bow.  Crossing the river in the fading light, the Heroes push on well into the night to avoid any stray trolls wandering up from the Trollskar to the south.The next three days pass in a progression of hot days and warm nights.  Food is scarce, although the meager rations, cool streams, and praire squirrels do provide enough sustenance to keep the Heroes from collapsing.  Through the hot summer days and lonely, quiet nights, doubt creeps into the Heroes' minds.  No sign of orc or human are seen on the vast plains.  More importantly, no sign of Aislinn or her captors, either.  Did they make the right decision in pushing southwest?However, on the third day, in the heat of the afternoon, Valurel and Starhl find that which the Heroes have hoped for.  Exiting the mud from a small, shallow stream are a set of hoof prints.  Could these be from the mounts of Aislinn's captors?  Valurel and Starhl are unable to find any boot prints from humans, elves, or otherwise.  The trail is quickly lost in the heavy grass of the plains.Inspired, the Heroes continue their progress southwest.  As the Heroes travel the green, grassy plains, they see to the west on the horizon the great fey forest of Erethor as a dark green strip on the horizon.  On the sixth day from the fight with the troll, the forest of Erethor rises before them as it flows west, rocky escarpments poking through the emerald green in bluffs and broken hills.  To the south, dark clouds loom on the horizon, an ominous sign for the Heroes: the Burning Line, that fell region were the forces of Shadow raze the green forest of Erethor with fire and axe.  The dark clouds that have hovered on the southwestern horizon since their time out of Elsweir loom large now as they near the northern portion of the BurningLline; the southwestern horizon glows orange at night and the smell of smoke and soot reaches their nostrils.For a brief stretch along a small bog, Starhl and Valurel once again pick up the trail of horses.  From the spoor, it appears the riders were skirting Erethor.  If these horse riders were Shadow enemies, not too mention Elves, why would they forsake the Elven forest?  Valurel has a blunt answer; Elves in these dark times keep to themselves.  A stranger, no matter how well intentioned, could easily find themselves studded with arrows if they failed to notice the warning signs of the Elven sentries that jealously guard their green home.  Also, could these Elves be renegades from their own people?OOC: Everyone's character is healed to full if they had any damage.During the journey from the ruined village, Cyz says little, keeping a slight distance from each of the Heroes.  Except for Starhl.  The Sarcosan stays close to the big Northman when she sleeps and eats.  When Erethor comes into view, Cyz finally breaks her silence.  Breaking down, she nestles her head into the Northman’s chest, tears flowing freely.  Keeping close to Starhl to hide her voice, her lips trembling, her emotions pour out.  I thank you Starhl, for your willingness to risk your life to help my people escape from the clutches of Shadow.  Your companions did not feel the lives of my family and friends worth this person we now pursue.  Only you saw the injustices done to my people.  Your kind…I have never encountered before.  Strong and wild as a bear, but honorable, so honorable, like the Dorns and Sarcosans of old.  I lose myself when I see you…I’m sorry.  Cyz backs away, wiping away tears and trying to conceal her wet eyes.  I have said too much.  Still, Cyz looks up at the big man with a steely gaze, her exotic and beautiful Sarcosan features evident, My place is at your side.  Where you go, so shall I.  And in this World of Shadow, my one hope is that you are able to return to me, the same feelings I have for you.  With that, she gathers her meager belongings as the travel continues.On the 7th day from the ruined village, the heroes reach the northernmost portion of the Fields of Ash and Blood.  The grassy plains slowly give way to an ash strewn landscape, the blackened, skeletal remains of huge, ancient trees stand in mute testimony to the destruction wrought here years ago.  Ash and wisps of smoke from the south swirl in the wind.  An unnatural heat steals the breath from the heroes.  Glowing orange coals are visible in places under the ash layering the ground, an unnatural sight given that this portion of the forest was burned years ago as the war front moved to the south.  The dark mass of Erethor and its looming hills in the west squat like a silent predator.  This fell region actually provides a boon for the Heroes: devoid of life, only slavers or foolish orc warbands travel through this fell region with the war front and the Burning Line farther to the south.As the sun begins to set, and peak crimson through the smoke on the southwest horizon, the Heroes spy an irregularity on the ash plain to the south.  Not more than two hundred yards to the south of the Heroes lies a fallen beast.  Rib bones stick up into the hot air: whatever it was, either it has been dead a long time or torn asunder by some unknown force.  Valurel’s sharp eyes pick out a bridle and saddle on the carcass.  A horse!</blockquote>

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