After Greymantle left, the party decided it was in their best interest to set up a watch. Patrick took the first watch, and invoked blast runes about the perimeter of the camp. Patrick failed to see the wolves slinking in about the camp, but the first blast rune detonated in a powerful surge of electricity and the blast itself woke the rest of the party from their sleep.
Patrick and Flint moved to square off against the first pair of wolves, leaving the rest of the group to deal with the remaining one. Clod was fierce in his attack, having driven wolves away from the farm and trying to make up for his earlier orc blunder. Moth was a horrible aim with her bow in the dim light, missing every shot but at least she did not hit anyone in the party. Ugly Ivy remained prone on the ground and struggled to get up.
One of the wolves lunged suddenly, knocking Moth to the ground and attempted to savage her with its maw, but she held its teeth away. Patrick moved to assist Moth with her wolf, his attacks hitting with each swing of his weapon. Flint finished off his wolf and Clod managed to impale his wolf on the makeshift spear he had fashioned. Ivy struggled to get up off the ground, her eyes getting wider as she began to panic.
With Patrick, Clod and Flint moving to assist Moth, the last wolf went down fairly quickly. Patrick moved to check on Ivy who was still trying to get up off the ground. Some of the grass and vine had grown into the burlap sack and had pinned Ivy to the ground. Patrick helped her get free, but during the process managed to notice that Ivy had really nice looking legs.
The party was awake and couldn’t manage to get back to sleep so broke camp and started towards Kassen’s Tomb once more. Dawn approached and the day turned dusky, with the winds picking up and clouds beginning to gather overhead. The trees began to thin, revealing a field of short, green grass that led to the shores of a wide, calm lake reflecting the overcast skies above. A dense fog hung over the center of the lake, obscuring the far side. Near the shore of the lake, a dark form lay next to the water.
Patrick moved closer and noticed the dark form was a that of a decayed body. Assessing the body closer, the cleric-monk noticed huge bite marks all over the body’s upper torso, and the flesh blackened from poison. He announced based on decomposition, the body probably had been there for a few months, and the poison in the body has made it unfit for other scavengers to consume.
Flint moved forward and spotted some silver in the mud near the body. Reaching down, he
pulled a masterwork short sword from the muck. A small pouch of coins was also in the mud. A quick glance inside revealed it was filled with coins of various denominations. Flint pocketed the pouch without bringing it to the parties attention.
Moth looked closely at the body and determined that the man was not from the town of Nymph’s Flow. “I don’t recognize this man. His clothing is not from our town, it’s the type you’d buy in a larger city.”
Flint nodded but wasn’t really listening to Moth expound about the clothing, his attention had been drawn by an old trail. Following it back along the east side of the lake shore for about a half mile, Flint found an older campsite that had not been used in months. Flint searched the surrounding campsite. Finding nothing else of interest, he returned to the party.
Ivy stared at the body, “He was terrified when he died. He was thirsty. The water looked cool and inviting. He didn’t see the serpent before it attacked. The pain of the poison burned his veins.” She shrugged, and moved to fill her waterskin.
“You know, It’s creepy when you do that, Ivy.” Clod stared at Ivy filling her waterskin. “The townsfolk are beginning to speak about you being a witch. You don’t need another reason for them to …”
“Quiet!” Moth interrupted. “She’s socially awkward cause everyone ignores her already. You don’t have to talk about her like that or scare her. I don’t even think she’s aware of when she says creepy stuff like that.”
“I’m still here, you know.” Ivy said calmly filling her water bottle. Putting a stopper in her waterskin, she picked up her backpack and moved back towards the group. She prepared to continue her journey.
The group walked in silence from the lake. The silence grew more and more oppressive. The trees of the forest grew older and more gnarled. The weather began to pick up and everyone became more and more miserable.
The trail led ever deeper into the Feywood, through the twisting maze of trees and confusing ravines. As it topped a small rise, a broad valley spread out before it, the opposite side of which looked like a writhing serpent. Yet between the two lay a steep hill sloping down into the valley. A cold rain started to fall, making the ground slick and treacherous.
Flint, Patrick and Clod started making their way down the steep incline going slowly when suddenly with a yell, Moth lost her footing and slid all the way to the bottom of the ravine where she yelped as her foot twisted. Ivy also lost her balance, sliding down the hill slamming into a small tree. Stunned she stood up and fell backward sliding down the muddy hillside then falling down a 20-foot cliff to lay in a small heap below.
“That’s the unluckiest girl I know.” Patrick said. “On the bright side, as she went head over heels, you could see she had great form, and nice legs.”
Clod stared at Patrick not sure if he was serious or trying to break the tension with humor that was failing miserably. Either way, Clod, Patrick and Flint slowly completed their descent to the bottom of the ravine without any further incident.
Patrick performed a quick assessment of Moth. His healer’s eye noted a few superficial scrapes and abrasions. Bruising about the ankle indicated a sprain but he couldn’t feel any broken bones. Ivy though lay in a heap, a broken bone jutting from her leg. Patrick noted Ivy was breathing but unconscious. He used her being unconscious to his advantage and pulled the bone carefully back into place, ignoring her cry of pain as he reset the bone then bandaging it in place. Patrick got the potion of cure light wounds from the backpack and carefully poured it into Ivy’s mouth. Ivy coughed and her breathing relaxed, becoming deep and even.
Looking at everyone gathered and their spirits down, some with scrapes and bruises, sprained ankles, nearly dead, and all of them sore from a bad night’s sleep. Patrick closed his eyes and whispered a few prayers to Iomedae. A burst of positive energy erupted from Patrick as he channeled the power of his deity to help heal the group.
Moth sat up and looked up at the ravine, then the group. “That first step…” She shook her head. Then pointed to an archway of stone, “At least we found the crypt.”