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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Manbearcat" data-source="post: 6458492" data-attributes="member: 6696971">I'm going to move things forward as our male elven hero has inevitably fallen prey to the coven of four witches that he domesticates with.[sblock]Otthor Defy Danger (Wis)3, 5 + 0 = 8Success with complications.[/sblock]I'll let Otthor add to this to whatever degree he wishes when he gets an opportunity to post.  He is assailed by the same disorienting and disturbing images that you are.  When you ask about it, he answers in the affirmative as he narrows his eyes like a hawk surveying the scene for prey...in this case, an unseen enemy. [MENTION=6781356]Tecklenburg[/MENTION], due to some nagging paranoia that you cannot explain, you take - 1 forward to Discern Realities.As you circle around the perimeter, all is eerily quiet save for the stray scratch, scratch, scratch that you hear coming from within the large festhall that bisects the settlement in the back; a common hall for governance, community feasts, and a hostel for any traveler's from Gilliad's Rest or elsewhere.The wind whips up momentarily as you pass near one of the houses.Nailed to the timbers of an exterior wall of one of the buildings is a shabbily scrawled note on goatskin parchment.  It tears loose at the great gust of wind.  Blowing freely, it is carried aloft near you.  You easily intercept it before it is lost.  It appears to be smeared in extreme haste by an ink-stain fingered:The snow isn't as deep under the small structure's eave and the freeze has kept some prints embedded in the icy whiteness.  If you'd like to Hunt and Track, you can give it a go.Not far from where you have intercepted the note is a small cemetery on a gently rolling hill from which the snow seems to naturally shed.  Five headstones are older and have markings on them to signify the year and the deceased.  Five more are not so old and their headstones are uncarved and uncut.  The scorched house with the collapsed roof stares at you from across the way.  A set of heavy, locked wooden doors separate the outside world from whatever lies within the cellar.Just a few paces away now, scratch, scratch, scratch from the common house.</blockquote>

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