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<Weston>

He did his best to ignore the overly chatty bard. He explained that his mother and father were back in Axis ... well father was likely out with a caravan since that was what he did. But he did not go into details.

He nodded at Nestron's comment. "Exactly. If no one does anything, Sergeant, then what becomes of your town, your friends, your family?"

Sergeant Almador

"Your pardon, squire. I meant no ingratitude." He replied to Weston earnestly.

The Sergeant tugged at where the collar of his brigandine was chafing.

"I am grateful for your aid, truly I am, but must try to understand why you lead this life if you do not enjoy it."

<Weston>

"Oh no I quite understand sergeant. If you have never really thought about such things, it can take a bit to wrap you mind around it all", he said with an understanding smile. "You have your city that you are protecting, but if there =is= some great 'evil' and it 'escapes' I doubt it would be satisfied with this small place and would like as not want to take over more ... seems like evil wants to do that. So in a way, I am protecting my home and family too. And what makes you think we don't ... well, OK ... maybe 'enjoy' is too strong a word. But I tried to follow in my father's foot steps, as it were, and it turns out that I don't have the right temperament for caravan work, so here I am."

Jex

"This is an interesting conversation," the bard states, seriously. "Every generation has challenges which they must face. The result of each such challenge determines what the future will look like. I believe that these are historic events and we all have a role to play. I too am interested in the motivations of the actors. It I am to record these moments for future generations, I need for the readers of my stories and the audiences watching my plays to understand what drove us forward towards mortal danger."

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Nestaron

He nodded at Jex's comments. Many clerics would regard a bard's calling as frivolity, ungodly even, but Nestaron believed that stories transcended religion.

Stories were owned by people, by mere mortals. He'd yet to find a god who'd taken time to tell a good yarn in a tavern, or a parable in a temple. No, stories were told by men, even when the stories were about the gods.

He smiled, listening to Weston, and agreed.

"Yes. You shouldn't assume that our lives are any more concise than your own, Sergeant.

"My wife may understand my calling but she still wants me back, safely at home with her and the children.

"I feel much the same as her. Yet here I am. Is this the life I want?

"Hah, what man ever asks that question and knows the answer?"

Tindarien

He had been considering the question, trying to define his motives which were not entirely qualified in explanation. He thinks he has the main points now and turns to the Sargeant.

"My parents and only family died when I was young. I was brought up by others who believed in what my parents had been doing. I am now following in their footsteps to determine if that sort of life is also within me."

GM

You talked in quiet voices that carried easily in the gorge, the river flowing smoothly, mercurial, barely lapping at the shore.

Seya overtook Heilbutt and led the party off of the sandy beach, up across a rock terrace and onwards.

The sun beat down and the heat in the gorge seemed to intesify with every step. Hoods were pulled up and eyes squinted against the glare. Tindarien likely wrapped the gauzy cheche around his head and face, as the old gnomish woman had taught him yesterday. If he did, at first he felt stifled but curiously, the hotter it got the more comfortable the cheche felt. One of nature's little tricks.

Perhaps it was Jex who started the cheerful marching whistle?

For large stretches, the trees came right down to the river's edge, denser than they were higher up. Other large animals travelled this way often though, and had worn trails through the hardy green foliage. There were some signs of deer and bison, their hard hooves leaving deeper, more distinct tracks than most of their predators. Not much in the way of fur or spore, and the spore they did find was decroded, a dark patch. Older than a week, agreed Seyja and Zoltan.

It was the height of summer, but it appeared that many creatures had stopped visiting the river. The forest was unnaturally quiet, no birdsong and only sporadic outbursts from chicadas.

You forded the river at a sharp bend where the riverbed carpeted by smooth pebbles. You could see them, the water was crystal clear and shallow, barely over knee deep. You waded across.

The sky was an intense blue, cloudless, only a few black specks visible; the highest flying realms of the Overworld. The river banks either side were sun-bleached pebble and larger boulders, sun's rays struck you from all angles, even from the surface of the water. Looking around, colours were more vivid, especially the colours of your companions' eyes, with their pupils shrunken to dots. (Not that you could see D's, the dark elf's hood was likely pulled down over his nose.)

Perhaps with the weight of his packs, Heilbutt tripped and went over with a splash. He dragged himself up, spitting, shrugging off any helping hands and looking mortally embarrassed. He was soaked but hadn't swallowed any of the river.

There was a steep, wooded ascent on the other side and the trees made useful hand and foot holds. Sergeant Almador had been reassured by most of the party earlier, but he felt most akin to Weston and stuck by him, so it was Weston who found himself lending a hand to the older man as the climbed up the slope. To his credit, Almador wasn't in bad shape, it was more his self-belief that had gone to pot.

You crested the hill, following a low rumbling noise that had grown over the past quarter-mile. The noise became a riot, the din of crashing water and momentarily you stepped out of the brush at the foot of a cliff.

The cliff face was of the same pale, rosy coloured stone as elsewhere but looked smoothed by water, with many natural alcoves and grottos carven out. There was a narrow cascade that flowed down over the sheer rock, from the top, over 40 above, to a shelf and down again to a pool at the bottom. The force of the falls, with its cacophony, foam and spray were all envigorating.

Verdure and wild lavender grew down the sides of the falls on one side, and it even at a distance you could pick out some easy routes upwards. Doubtful you would need ropes, but Zoltan could be certain that if Red Ed came this way, his horses didn't go any further.

Jex might wonder if the falls had a name. Probably not one that anyone remembered.

It was then that Seyja saw something at the edge of the pool, where the water eddied before continuing on downriver. Two large animals, lightly coloured, apparently unmoving with a few, smaller black tufts sprouting from the sand around them. She was some 30 feet away and couldn't quite make sense of it.

The others followed her gaze but they'd all need to get closer to fathom what it was they were looking at.

<Weston>

While the heat was a bit much, he had been through some hot times on caravan, so, while a bit uncomfortable, he was able to 'carry on'.

The silence, the absence of wild life seemed to confirm the problem with the water. He had to take the word of their 'naturalists' about the age of the spoor, but it seemed to fit. The water either killed all the animal or they had all migrated to some place with good water.

He was a bit nervous about having to walk through the polluted water. But it seemed OK ... if the water was =that= bad, there would be dead critters along the water.

He was concerned when Heilbutt fell into the water. But being reassured that he hadn't swallowed alleviated some of that concern. But it seemed like it was time to press the issue of their 'donkey' being overworked. "Heilbutt, we need your help and if you manage to break something, you won't be. So we need to lighten your load a bit ... especially with that coming up", he said pointing to the climb that was ahead.

He smiled as he helped the sergeant up. "Been a while since you were out and about", he said. "Not to worry. You are doing fine. Just take your time. It is when you try to hurry, to push too hard, that you will miss a hold or your footing", he said reassuringly.

The sound of the waterfall had been growing as they climbed, but it was something when they finally crested the hill and saw it. "Isn't that something", he asked the sergeant. "I have seen a couple, but never been this close to a waterfall before."

He looked in the direction of Seyja's pointing finger. "Should be investigate", he asked. He wasn't sure what they would learn, but maybe it would be important.

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Nestaron

Much like Weston, he was nervous about crossing the water, but it was shallow and there hadn't been a large die-back of the forest. The water was remarkably clear, however.... No, whatever this poison was, it was subtle.

Once they've crossed, Nestaron thought aloud, "The poison might be accumulating in some parts of the river. Much of what we've seen so far is fast flowing, but it will effect each creature, each plant differently, as is the way of such things."

But he was also concerned about Heilbutt. The half-orc's former master had said he was a 'mule', but even mules had limits to their strength and the half-orc had hardly slept.

Some of this was a show to impress Seyja, no doubt, but Nestaron had found that Heilbutt really didn't know when to back down or take it easy. He was young and a little stupid with it, like most men at his age.

The cleric is greatly impressed by the natural wonder of the cascade. It wasn't the largest he'd ever since, but it was idyllic, a hidden gem in the wilderness. He broke into a smile and said to Jex:

"We're probably the only people to have laid eyes on this picture in centuries."

While the party was drawn to the shapes lying by the pool, he pointed to the shelf halfway up the cliff face.

"We should stash our reserve water there and lighten our load." He suggested, since they'd planned to find somewhere suitable.

Heilbutt

He hadn't been concentrating as he sloshed through the water and lost his footing. He clammed up, his face tight with anger and shame, but he nodded in respect to Weston, not forgetting his place. Heilbutt didn't dare make eye contact with the barbarian woman afterwards though.

The half-orc was grudgingly glad when his master suggested they stash the reserve water finally.

<Weston>

"Well since this is the way that Red came, maybe not so long ago", he said in response to Nestaron with a wink and a grin.

Sergeant Almador

Feet, sore. Knees, sore. Small of back, sore. Shoulders, sore. General disposition, hot and sweaty.

Weston acted as his pacesetter though and kept him occupied.

"My thanks, Weston," he said with a tired smile, after they'd climbed the slope, "I will try to remember your advice when I'm halfway up that wall and dropping bricks in the seat of my pants."

The Sergeant eyed Tindarien's cheche. He'd always thought they were an outlandish fashion from Santa Cora, but having worn a steel kettle hat throughout the hike so far, he was starting to see the appeal. Lightweight and hid your whole head from the heat of the day....

It bewildered him, how his perception of the world was subtly changing as the day went by. The world as he knew it had started the day much smaller, for one thing.

He leaned on the haft of his partisan and assumed others would investigate the area around the pool.

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Nestaron

He shrugged, looking around.

"I don't know, Weston, I think the knight must have taken the path across the mountains, instead of following the river.

"Could horses have even gotten this far? What say you, Zoltan?"

D

The hike wasn't bad but the heat was stifling. The worst was the bright sun light. He looked down more than anything else. When they finally came to a stop at the falls, he admired the natural beauty. He couldn't remember having seen such as this in this incarnation. His memory of the others was spotty at best, so nothing competed with it.

Zoltan

He'd been following carefully in Seyja footsteps, keeping an eye out for tracks and threats. As the day heats up he pulls his hood closer to his face, being careful to not let it interfere with his peripheral vision.

When they reach the falls, and Nestaron makes the suggestion to cache supplies he nods agreement. "Good idea. We should also make this a rally point. It is good defensive terrain, especially up there where the supplies are. If we are separated or get chased from the cave, make for this spot to meet up."

At Nestaron's last direct question he shakes his head. "No. I have seen no horse tracks. In fact all the tracks we've found are old. Likely older than Red Ed's journey. I expect he took the other path."

He then notes Seyja's gaze, and takes in the animals. He takes a half-step to the side to clear his sword arm, slowly draws his long sword and waits to see what the creatures will do.

Seyja


Seyja enjoyed the hike through the forest and even the heat did not bother her overmuch, but the thing which did bother her was the lack of wildlife near the river. It was just... not right and this kept her from fully relaxing.

They crossed the river easily enough except for the stumble and fall of the half-orc, but after a quick glance back to make sure he was uninjured, she dismissed it from her mind.

Pausing at the pool, something caught her eye and she focused in on the apparition. Her eyes narrowed and she took another step toward the two odd looking animals. She took a step toward them and pointed.

"Zoltan," she said softly, but in a voice that carried, "have you seen animals of this nature before?"

Zoltan

"Not I [Neil let me know if he has]. Anyone else?" He asks the group, knowing at least one or two others have spent time in the wilderness.

<Weston>

"Hard to even get a good sense of what they look like from this angle", he said as he continued to look. "Could be something that fell from a height and so got mangled", he speculated.

[Edited this for you, MikeD, for clarity. The party are at the foot of the cliff, on the same level as the unmoving animals -GM]

GM

The way the two animals were arrayed and the black splotches around them were awkward to decipher from where they stood. The scene was only 30 feet away, on the same level as the party, but the stark sunshine washed out the detail.

They were certainly large animals, mammalian like as not, and four legged.

You needed to close another 15 feet or so to resolve what you were looking at, but what was your first reaction? Did any scour the clifftops, or the surrounding cover? Were weapons drawn?

D

He looked about but pulled no weapons. The animals only got a cursory look. He was more interested in the possibility of an ambush and kept his eyes on the high ground.

Seyja


Seyja took one slow turn around, her eyes searching the area up and down as she turned, her senses attuned for sound or even smell, before she turned to the others.

"Be careful... watch," she said and pulled the battle axe from her back and slowly approached the animals.

[[ no worries Neil, but as you mentioned, we need to change out perspective to see what's what <g> ]]

<Weston>

He wasn't sure what the concern was. The critters certainly looked well and truly dead. But he followed Seyja. While he wasn't really worried, it didn't do to have folks running off on their own. His swords were still settled on his back, but it was just an instant for him to get them out if he was completely off base.

Tindarien

So far he has been quite pleased with his new headgear, certainly good in this heat. The walk here had not been too taxing though the next stage looks like more of a challenge.

He is curious about the animals but they are not moving. This could be a decoy. So he finds a defensive position that gives a good view of the water and the wooded slope in case of an attack.

GM

People took what precautions they felt appropriate. It was a remote and secluded spot, with thick underbrush to hide in surrounding the pool, elevated positions on the shelf and clifftop, and the falls to mask any noise. Nonetheless, it wasn't a great place for an ambush, since you yourselves could disappear into the forest, or take cover at the foot of the cliff.

Not all ambushers were tactically-minded, however. A monstrous predator might only seek to take one large prey and retreat. A troll might bait the edge of the pool and lurk under the water in ambush. At least the poisoning of the river made such things less likely.

Walking along the thin, sandy strip between the pool and the trees, you noticed the water was again crystal clear in the calm shallows. No algae, no insects, tadpoles or fish. To a townsman like Sergeant Almador, it looked like the cleanest, healthiest water he'd ever seen, better than from the well back home. To anyone else who'd ever travelled the wilds, it looked unnatural, especially at that time of year. You couldn't even see any clouds of gnats.

Approaching the animals, you soon realised what they were. Lions. Dead lions. They had dun-cloured fur with faint, dark stripes along their hindquarters, and a thicker ruff around the neck. In life they would have been magnificent beasts, young adult males, probably brothers, weighing around 500 pounds each. They were desiccated from the heat, but were otherwise remarkably intact for carrion, somewhat explained by the black spotches around them. Monk vultures, also dead, also dried out.

From the parched remains, Seyja and Zoltan's best guess would be the animals died around five days ago.

Jex

He had tried to keep morale up for this traveling band but the queezy feeling that one gets when witnessing death was difficult to overcome. Typically he might sing a song about the circle of life, how the body of a dead animal was food for another, but it was clear that the circle was a circle of death. The vultures that consumed the dead lion flesh were now dead themselves. He needed to dig deep into his bag of cheer to help raise the mood.

"Well, I'm glad we are still on the right track. This is proof that we are indeed getting closer to the source of the problem we need to solve. Are we camping here for the night? This is such a beautiful place. Curing this place of the poison that sullies it is our obligation and seeing all this beauty only strengthens my resolve."

He looked for a place to rest, a shady tree would do fine.. Once he found it, he sat and relaxed, humming a serene tune.