To the Edge of the Fire Forest!
The night passes over without incident. Those of you on watch enjoy a quiet night of staring out at the stars and breathing in clear mountain air. If not for the cold, it would have been a wonderful night to sleep out in the open.
[sblock="for Lars"]Lars, you dream of very intense images this night. You find yourself being chased by skeletal dragons, parts of them almost ethereal or insubstantial. They cry out at you not in words, but in emotions. Intangible feelings and messages assault your mind and you run further and faster. You cannot escape them as they clip at your heels, screaming with rage, sadness or pain. Finally, when you can get no further and all the strength has left your legs, you tumble down a dark hole. You fall for what seems like an eternity before spashing into a scalding hot pool of water. It burns your skin and you scream in pain. Suddenly, boiling up from the bottom of the pool is a great stag, made from flames. It bursts from the lake in a blast of steam and heat and stares deep into your eyes. All the pain has left your body as you are entranced by the stag. Suddenly, a voice older than the world rakes across your mind: "RELEASE ME!" With the words still ringing in your ears, your eyes snap open to Torrent shaking your tent and calling for you to wake up and get moving.[/sblock]
The day breaks bright and clear, the sun still hidden beyond the cliffs on the horizon. Your camp is bathed in diffused orange-golden light and you can still make out the stars, slowly fading away as the sun comes up. Torrent emerges from her tent and feeds more fuel onto the coals, bringing the fire back to life and chasing away the cold of the morning. She kneels and prays to Istishia for a while before standing up and shaking tents to get all of you moving.
Slowly you all wake up and begin breaking camp: bedrolls and blankets are rolled up, tents broken down, horses brushed and saddles strapped. You warm yourself by the flames as you strap on frigid metal armor, your breath coming in big white puffs. Fast is broken as you finish packing up and before you know it, your camp is a mile behind you and your ears are filled with the sounds of hoofs on crunchy snow and hard ground.
Thankfully, the day passes quickly in the saddle, though your sores from yesterday blast to life with new intensity. You can tell that the road is taking you down into lower lands as the cliffs slowly get smaller and when you glance behind, you can see the peaks growing more distant and much higher. Your party breaks only once around mid day to rest and feed the horses. The sky is still clear and the temperature has warmed slightly.
Eventually, in the late afternoon, the sky ahead begins to glow faint red and orange, and the air smells of ash. The frigid winter temperatures warm noticeably, and red flowers dot the roadside amid yellowed grass. Cinders drift in the sky. Soon the cliffs alongside the road turn into craggy hills, and the forest fire itself comes into view, tall pine trees stretching down into a valley that burns to the horizon. A steaming river marks the border of the fire forest, and a vast field of ash coats the ground for the last quarter mile leading to the forest.
About a half mile from the forest fire, you spot a small farm, consisting of a two-story stone house and adjacent barn, and what looks like a pair of simple stone cairns. The farm is on a slight rise to the left of the road, and a young woman stands in clear view, dark-hair blowing in the wind, eyes wide and blue, holding a slender black staff and staring intently in your direction.
| GM: | Don't forget, on your first post, to make your Fortitude save vs. DC 15 or be fatigued due to the cold. Remember the extra +5 to the roll if you have a cold weather outfit. |
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