Silent Slough

[Drathiranon]

Slog feel good. Maybe...Friend Elron humming helps.

Bludgeon pokes her pitchfork around at the trail line, her piercing green eyes searching the pathway.
Slog has his trusty pike dangling at his side from his left arm. His massive green body lumbering along ahead of Bludgeon but still close at Tarvis right side. He looks over his shoulder back to Bludgeon.

Look, tree line. We watch.

With his pike, he points to a stand of bare trees just ahead of the group but far enough away to detect if something were hiding there.

Meanwhile, in the shadowed clearing of this strange forest, the dark elf woman contemplates her desire to follow the way of the druidess or maybe an alchemist. She pulls a hand held, small torch and fire stick from her bag. After blowing the smoldering embers inside the firestick box, she lights the torch, then hands it to Daleah.

I'm going to need a little more light. Would you mind holding this for a moment while I configure the parchment placement?

Though she moves with practiced grace, her ruby red eyes are focused and contemplative as she kneels before the towering dolmen gateway. Her obsidian skin gleams faintly in the dappled light, her snow white hair cascades down her shoulders in rolling waves. The dolmen, an imposing stone archway carved with mysterious runes, seems dull now after losing its subtle shimmer with an otherworldly energy.

The dolmen appears to serve like a portal to another plane, its massive stones weathered but the inscribed symbols are believed to be an ancient orc language, glyphs that once revealed a now forgotten magic and primal power. Like a painting in a gallery, one side of the gateway depicts an autumnal scene with leaves in shades of amber, crimson, and gold swirling around a stylized depiction of a forest, with creatures preparing for winter’s approach. The opposite side refects a stark winter landscape with bare trees, snow-covered ground, and a dulling golden sun casting a melting thin line of warm light over a silent, icy wilderness and pathway of cold stones.

Llelanni carefully presses a thin sheet of textured paper against the carved runes on the gateway’s surface. With a small bundle of charcoal made from burnt wood, that Daleah gave her, she begins delicately rubbing the soft charcoal over the paper to capture the intricate carvings in stark black and gray contrasts. Her fingers are steady, guided by her deep understanding of nature’s signs and curiousity of ancient landmarks. The rubbings reveal mysterious symbols, their curves and angular lines faintly illuminated by the flickering torchlight, hinting at forgotten magic and sealed secrets.

As she works, her connection to nature and the arcane feels more palpable to her. The moment captures her emotions as both a scholar and guardian, a keeper of ancient knowledge, bridging worlds with her alchemy and druidic insight. At least that is her feeling, not necessarily reality.
She snaps out of her delusion of grandeur and rises to her feet, looking to the paladin.

Ok, just a few more and on the other side.

[Lianaila of the Wood]

Daleah steps quietly into the shadowed clearing, eyes fixed on the mysterious dolmen gateway. Her expression is a mixture of solemn reverence and cautious curiosity. As she observes the dark elf diligently making rubbings of the ancient runes, her hand rests instinctively on the hilt of her sword, ready to defend if necessary.

Partner, we’re in this together. Let’s keep our wits about us and treat this place with the respect it deserves. We’ll get through this just fine. This here is a sacred ground, and pokin’ yer nose into them portals ain’t somethin’ to be takin’ lightly, ya hear? Be on your toes now, ‘cause the energies a flowin’ through this place are as mighty as a tornado and just as unpredictable. We gotta show some respect for the delicate dance between worlds, lest we invite a whole mess of trouble into our neck of the woods

Daleah's voice is calm but firm, embued with her faith and role as a protector. She steps closer to Llelanni, offering a reassuring presence. She takes a quick glance at her bracelet, making sure the others have not moved out of range. Seeing they still.have time she continues speaking, being sure to repete her stance.

If you’re a huntin’ for wisdom, I’ll stand guard, no doubt about that. I'll be taking a good, hard look around to see if any dark forces or troublemakers are lurkin’ nearby, makin’ sure no one’s about to do somethin’ foolish. But still, the forces stirrin’ here may be as old as time itself, so they deserve our reverence. Let’s do right by the spirits of this land, make sure we don’t go proding a hornets nest and upset the natural order, or we might find ourselves in a whole heap a trouble we can’t easily wrangle out of.

Daleah draws her sword, standin’ tall and proud, ready to step in if things turn sour. She reminds herself to be a protector first and foremost.

[Ssin'urn Streea]

Slog, the orc farmer, has just located the location of the Hoarfrost Turn.



Nestled deep within the winter woods lies the Hoarfrost Turn. Its a quiet, enchanting bend in the forest trail. As you approach, the air grows colder, and a delicate shimmer coats the surroundings. The trail curves gently to the right, flanked on either side by a narrow, weathered stone path that seems to have been there for ages. The stones, some rough-hewn and moss-covered, some absently missing, others glisten with a layer of crystalline frost that sparkles like tiny diamonds caught in the pale winter sun.

The trees arch overhead, their branches heavy with snow and ice, creating a natural canopy that filters the pale light into a silvery glow. The silence here is almost reverent, broken only by the faint crunch of spacely planted snow or graveled dirt underfoot and the occasional distant cry of winter birds. At the bend's apex, the stone path subtly converges, revealing the entrance to a shadowy cave system. Dark and inviting, the cavern system on the horizon appears as natural doorways carved by time and elemental force hidden beneath the icy earth.

This secluded spot, the Hoarfrost Turn, feels like a threshold from where the serene beauty of winter's frost meets the mysteries lurking just beneath the surface, beckoning explorers to venture further into the silent depths of the forest.

[Bhaern Quel]

Tarvis speaking softly

When Mouxsie and I can here last time we passed quickly to the second gate. This slow walk seems different and so far we are not learning any more. No good reason to leave this path, yet no apparent reason for the two gateways, Maybe some kind of magic moat or separator? I do not want to go though the second gate until the ladies join us. Even if we have to return for them. We should not divide unless it is needed.

Continues to search along the trail for anything of interest. On reaching the Hoarfrost Turn pauses to more thoughly examine as if it might be a transition point of some kind.

Elron, have you sensed anything of interest?

Elron hears Slog comment of his humming helping him feel good and glad that the soothing effect helping him. Continues to search and hum until Tarvis asks his question.

There is nothing that I have sensed yet of this place, my eyes have not seen any clues. I can not see any reason that there would be this gap between the two gates you speak o. Though I wonder if this path stays the same each visit. With time in play there can be many changes to a spot saw days age, that here might be hours or weeks. There is an aura of magic here, but that likely includes the city as well, nothing strong that I have felt.

Starts to consider the possible options.

[Drathiranon]

Llelanni looks to the paladin as if she were speaking a foreign language.

No need to draw your sword. We are not in any danger. I have the smudge portraits of these symbols now so we can catch up to the others.

With a much pleased expression on her face, the dark elf rolls the paper up like a scroll, putting it into her bag of holding. Llelanni takes back the torch and crushes it out on the ground.

Let's go!


Near the Hoarfrost Turn

Bludgeon pulls dried grass and chunks of snow from the prongs of her pitchfork. She looks to Tarvis.

This trail not the same? We take wrong turn or trail different?

Slog rests his pike on the ground to hold his body up like a man would a cane. With his other hand he shades his eyes, looking back toward the Eye of the Needle where Daleah and Llelanni were standing.

What take women so long? Get dark soon.

Bludgeon glares at Slog.

Maybe they find something.

[Lianaila of the Wood]

Llelanni looks to the paladin as if she were speaking a foreign language.

No need to draw your sword. We are not in any danger. I have the smudge portraits of these symbols now so we can catch up to the others.

With a much pleased expression on her face, the dark elf rolls the paper up like a scroll, putting it into her bag of holding. Llelanni takes back the torch and crushes it out on the ground.

Let's go!

Well, now, I reckon I ain’t worried ‘bout no danger now that ya got those portraits. Just let me know if any trouble comes ‘round, and I’ll be ready to stand tall. Lead the way, Lady Llelanni, I’m right behind ya.

Daleah returns her sword to its scabbard, covers the smudged earth with her foot where the dark elf put out the torch, has another good look around, and follows alongside Llelanni to the Hoarfrost Turn.
Approaching to meet the other teammates along the trail, Daleah waves to the group.

Bludgeon pulls dried grass and chunks of snow from the prongs of her pitchfork. She looks to Tarvis.

This trail not the same? We take wrong turn or trail different?

Slog rests his pike on the ground to hold his body up like a man would a cane. With his other hand he shades his eyes, looking back toward the Eye of the Needle where Daleah and Llelanni were standing.

What take women so long? Get dark soon.

Bludgeon glares at Slog.

Maybe they find something.

As the fading light of dusk spills across the Hoarfrost Turn, Daleah's thick, deep southern accent rings out with firm resolve. Clad in her glimmering armor, she approaches the group with a steady stride and a warm smile on her face.

Well, Sir Tarvis, I reckon we've got good news to share.

Her voice is smooth as honey but tinged with the hearty cadence of the Southern dialect of her home origin.

Them symbols on that ol' dolmen? Lady Llelanni done transcribed 'em all proper like and neat as a pin. No hiccups or a fuss, just smooth sailin' and no complications whatsoever.

She pauses briefly, eyeing her companions, Slog, the rugged orc farmer wielding a pike, Bludgeon, the fierce, seasoned female orc warrior clutching her pitchfork, Elron, the lively and intuative humming bard, and their human leader, Tarvis, a master of herbs who is sharp as a thorn, clever as a fox, and gentle in nature as a spring breeze.

Back to duty we go, yessiree. Ready to meet back up with the rest of our crew and keep the mission rollin' along. Ain't no mountain high enough when we're workin' together, y'know what I mean?

With a confident nod, Daleah turns toward the path ahead, her spirit unbowed and her purpose finally as clear as blue skies.

[Bhaern Quel]

Tarvis answers Bludgeon

We did not take a wrong path, we are not lost. This ime traveling it feels different to me. It might just be the snow my last visit it was warmer. The snow came after we returned home. There is nothing that I can say is truely different, just I am seeing it longer and as I said seems somehow different.

Seeing the others coming speaks to Slog.

Well they are coming now. Once we get to the tunnels it will be dark except where we find tourches all the time.. We might as well move on now.

Elron Smiles to Lielanni and Daleah as they join, replies to Tarvis first.

I have not sensed any danger or magics to be concerned about. The ladies might have something of interest to say.

[Drathiranon]

Approaching to meet the other teammates along the trail, Daleah waves to the group.

As the fading light of dusk spills across the Hoarfrost Turn, Daleah's thick, deep southern accent rings out with firm resolve. Clad in her glimmering armor, she approaches the group with a steady stride and a warm smile on her face.

Well, Sir Tarvis, I reckon we've got good news to share.

Her voice is smooth as honey but tinged with the hearty cadence of the Southern dialect of her home origin.

Them symbols on that ol' dolmen? Lady Llelanni done transcribed 'em all proper like and neat as a pin. No hiccups or a fuss, just smooth sailin' and no complications whatsoever.

She pauses briefly, eyeing her companions, Slog, the rugged orc farmer wielding a pike, Bludgeon, the fierce, seasoned female orc warrior clutching her pitchfork, Elron, the lively and intuative humming bard, and their human leader, Tarvis, a master of herbs who is sharp as a thorn, clever as a fox, and gentle in nature as a spring breeze.

Back to duty we go, yessiree. Ready to meet back up with the rest of our crew and keep the mission rollin' along. Ain't no mountain high enough when we're workin' together, y'know what I mean?

With a confident nod, Daleah turns toward the path ahead, her spirit unbowed and her purpose finally as clear as blue skies.

With a crooked sideways smile, Llelanni looks to Elron.

We haven't sensed anything out of the ordinary for this place, near the dolmen or on our way here. We do have some nice prints of the symbols though.

The dark elven woman then blushes, looking back to Tarvis.

Ready when you are, Sir Tarvis. Sorry it took so long. Was trying to get a thorough and clear impression.
I can't wait to see what the rest of this road trip has in store for us.

She stands shifting her leather rucksack to rest more comfortably over her shoulders.

Bludgeon grunts in agreement and turns on her heel, returning to inspect the right side of the trail.
Slog groans, his anticipation having been stifled by the brief interruption. The large green orc man returns his pike to rest on his shoulder.

Slog ready too, we go now, Leader Tarvis?

[Lianaila of the Wood]

Looking up to the tree tops and back down to the trail, Daleah puts on her cape while taking a mental note of the Hoarfrost Turn. While listen to the sounds of the forest she stays in stride with Llelanni and remains ready, keeping her hand on the hilt of her sword.

Sir Tarvis, I reckon we got just a hop, skip, and a jump left before we make it to the entrance. Supposin' I might just see if we can cover ourselves in the spiritual armor of protection.

Daleah pauses for a moment, kneels on the path and bows her head in prayer.

Well now, with the light of truth and the strength of righteousness, we're fixin’ to tread this frosted path. May the divine watchin’ over us guide our steps, shield us from darkness inside that there cavern, and keep us outta trouble as we head on in with courage, ‘cause no shadow’s got a prayer against clean hands and hearts pure in purpose. So, here’s hopin’ we come on out the other side, safe and sound as we press onward, with faith and a combined brave spirit.

Daleah lifts her head as a beam of sunlight penetrates the cloud cover, engulfing the entire group in its warm invigorating glow like an angelic messengers response from the celestial plane.

[Ssin'urn Streea]

It would be sage to remain prepared at this perilous juncture, a whisper of stealth as Mouxsie and Tarvis had once exemplified when they too first slipped into the darkening courtyard of the vast, foreboding complex. The path before them is unmarked, merely a narrow trail winding onward, growing longer yet eerily closer to the ominous threshold the traveling party seeks.

A cold, gnawing sensation clings to the napes of their necks, as if unseen eyes press into their flesh, watching, waiting. The feeling of darkness seems to breathe and pulse with malevolent intent, and they can almost taste the lecherous, predatory gazes of stalking creatures lurking in the shadows, their intentions as foul as the icy frost that coats the turn in the path. No matter how they move, be it silent, cautious, or desperate, no one can shake the oppressive weight of evil that clings to them, a sinister presence hints at horrors lurking just beyond the veil of darkness.

Only when they finally leave the frostbitten bend does the suffocating scrutiny dissipate, but the memory of those eyes, those hungry, leering expressions, will linger in their collective memory for a very long time.

[Bhaern Quel]

Tarvis nods at the reports.

Now we are together we will move forward. I am glad that you are alert. The last visit the danger was found whe we decided to leave. This time it might be the same, however we hope to solve it. Same marching order and keep alert.

Step out with firm step to reach the courtyard, the only thing to slow would be something unexpected to stop him..

Elron starts to hmm again as he follows.

[Drathiranon]

The dark elven woman walks along side her companions as they take the Hoarfrost Turn. Her teammate, the female paladin with fair freckled skin exudes an admirable confidence. She figures it is Elron's humming that must be contributing to the group's feelings of ease despite the ominous unseen beings that follow them on their journey. Tarvis seems fairly confident as well despite the fact that he has delt with this before. She looks to the orcs on her left side.

Slog's expression is grim as he is holding his pike firmly in one hand. His red eyes glance to Tarvis.

We get through this! Nothing stop us now!

Budgeon still fiercly clutches her pitchfork. She looks to Elron.

Smell cave close by, for Clan and Land, we stay strong!

Llelanni pulls her robe more tightly as the cold air swirls through her sleeves. It is getting darker as they draw near the cavern entrance.
She whispers softly to herself.

The shadows grow longer, I can feel it. Something still watches us from the darkness.
The shadows stretch long and sinister this duskus. I can feel their cold whispers crawling beneath the surface.

Slogs ears perk up, hearing Llelanni's whispers.

Slog seen darkness before, but this... this like the land crying out. We must be cautious.

Bludgeon also speaks up.

Let them come. We not scared. Shadows can't fight back. Our blades carve and poke way through the darkness.

Llelanni looks toward the end of the trail, seeing the entrance up ahead. She raises a hand to halt them.

Listen... do you hear it? These faint echos are of voices long gone, they seem to be calling out from the abyss. Are we trespassers in their eternal slumber? The cavern city had secrets buried deep. We should tread carefully, lest the darkness consumes us all.

Slog replies with a surprisingly sage answer, his voice deep and low.

Fear is a beast that feeds on hesitation, we strike first, question later.

Bludgeon cocks her head, raising a bushy black eyebrow.

For honor, survival. What lurk here, dead. We not have regrets.

The two orcs are shoulder to shoulder, pressing more ahead of the group as they sharpen each other's will.

[Lianaila of the Wood]

With a calm, yet firm voice, and unwavering resolve, Daleah takes a few steps forward. She first looks to Bludgeon.

Well now, y’all, I reckon we’re knee-deep in a mess that’d make a preacher blush. But I can tell we all ain’t ones to back down from a little dirty work, especially when it’s for the sake of what’s right.

She pauses, glancing around to the cavern entrance to the city ahead then back to Tarvis and Elron.

We’re walkin’ a fine line, like a cat on a fence. One slip, and we could find ourselves in a world of hurt or right back on our feet again. I'm sure we all seen storms afore, and know just how to ride ‘em out.

Daleah gestures to her companions with open hands.

Ya see, we gotta remember, sometimes a girl’s gotta swing her sword and pray her prayers, all at the same time. That darkness out there? It’s just waitin’ for us to stumble, but I believe, with all my heart, we got what it takes to make our way to see the sunrise again.

She clears her throat slightly, looking to Slog, then raises her voice a bit.

So, I say we keep our wits about us, like a fox in a henhouse, all quiet and clever like. An' if trouble comes knockin’, we answer with our heads held high, a little elbow grease, and our spirits unbroken.

Pausing, with a reassuring smile to Llelanni, she straightens her shoulders.

Just gotta remember that sometimes you gotta walk through broken glass to get to your destination. No pain, no gain. And I ain’t leavin’ nobody behind a bleedin'. Let’s tighten our belts and keep our eyes peeled. We about to turn this one dark night into a brand new golden dawn.

Daleah smiles, resting her hand on the hilt of her sword reassuringly.

Sir Tarvis, I reckon I got a little carried away on my soap box there. You're the leader here, so I'll just get back to holdin' up the rear.

[Ssin'urn Streea]

The vibrant chorus of rustling leaves and distant bird calls fade away, swallowed by an oppressive stillness as they ascend to the stone foot path from the mountain trail. A final subtle breeze stirs the skeletal branches of leafless trees, causing them to creak against the sky. It brushes against the travelers’ cloaks and garments, tugging forward gently as if beckoning them forward into the unseen arms of the mountain’s cold embrace. The wind’s quiet call carries an undercurrent of unease, a subtle warning cloaked in the outter silence, pulling at the teammates with its swirling unseen currents.

Before them rises a forsaken, lofty place, an isolated height. The winter forest dissolves behind them, retreating into an indistinct, shadowed void. Chilling, icy breath lingers across the rugged landscape, carrying a sense of loneliness that pierces deep into their bones. This is the highest, most isolated peak in all of Silent Slough. It feels as though the very land mourns its forsaken solitude. It is a haunting stillness, the air now stagnant, cold, and lonely, as if the very land had exhaled its last.

The faint impression of snow-dusted treetops and jagged stones peek through a swirling veil of dense fog, slowly revealing the vast, daunting terrain below. A yawning drop of expanse stretches out on either side of the trail. Every step forward feels heavy with doubt, each one a fragile gamble for survival. The adventurers now know they must tread carefully, for each step carries weight in this perilous place. One false move can drag one to its depths or a loud sound could cause a flood of snow to bury them, never to be seen or heard from again.

Overhead, carved deep into a massive, weathered lintel, the name of the great orc city, Rozdrurra, is etched in ancient orc runes. A faint glint of sunlight, like a fading ember of fire, briefly kisses the stone, casting cold, fleeting illumination over the worn carvings. The stones hold their secrets tightly, as if warning those who dare approach that here, history and destiny intertwine amidst shadows of dread and uncertainty.

[Bhaern Quel]

Tarvis listens to the banter, some of the themes repeated from the Store.

Yes the foe is watching us, maybe also souls to rescue. We knew before we started that watching would happen As long as it is watching it is not harming. We decided to find answers, until we get one we move forward.

Come let us enter the city.

Steps to pass though the arch with the orcs.

Great city of Rozdrurra we come to learn and heal your to your greatness, may you bless and aid us.

Not sure it would help, however on the chance there are any powers in the city that could aid, such words might help. As for anger of a foe, that seems unlikely to make any difference. He does want to see any differences as he enters the city.

Elron chants a tale of home coming for the orcs. It should strengthen the desire to enter the city and explore it.