Party 11

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Aramil nods curtly, and casts a surly look back at the Steward. "This issue should indeed have been settled long past, but perhaps there were just none on hand capable of dealing with the issue ere I arrived... If the others are ready then let us tend to this quickly." As Aramil begins to turn towards the door when his head snaps up.

"Steward... What did you mean 'lurking in the wings'?" Aramil turns towards the Steward and presents an expression composed of superiority mixed with disgust. "You can't possible mean that you believe some of those creatures are here in the keep with us, do you?"
 
"I simply meant that the ones you see aren't the dangerous ones. They're the distraction, so you don't notice the others about to attack from the sides. They got what they came here for. I doubt they would have hung around."
 
Henjk nods to Aramil and catches a silver knife that is tossed to him.

"We are wasting time. The girl could be in danger and every minute we wait is a minute too long. We Stormwinds have a saying 'A ship in port is a wasting daylight'. We must put the Duchess in the cell designed for such and be on our way. "

Henjk holsters his flail and puts his shield on his back. This is the most efficient way to travel for Henjk, a technique perfected from living in tight quarters on ships.
 
"Speaking of daylight..." Aramil glances briefly out a window at the night sky ere he looks from Gnome, to Thiefling, to Human. "Henjk, have you a lantern? The moon is full, but we head into the deep woods. This pack may have even made a cave their den. Will your weak human eyes be able to see well enough, or should you take lanterns, or torches, from the keep?"
 
Henjk takes a moment to think about what Aramil had said. Henjk knew he was right. Henjk's human eyes were useless in the pitch black.

Henjk turns to the group.

"It is true my eyes cannot decipher the darkness, but my shield is true. If it is stealth that you seek than I shall be a liability, especially with this clunky armor." Henjk bangs on his chestplate. "However, if you guide me to our destination I have torches in my pack that I can use. I do not mind travelling far enough behind you that the light does not give you away. If there is any danger you could call back to me with a sign, like a whistle. It is up to you all, but I am strong enough to do it"
 
As you head out from the keep, and towards the woods, you notice a light mist descend upon you; reflecting the moonlight and giving a dreamlike atmosphere to the scene. Stepping past the first line of trees, you keep your senses alert, waiting for the slight movement from within the gnarled branches above your head that would indicate your prey had found you before you found them. However, no movement is spotted, and you get the feeling that you are completely alone amongst these trees. So focused are you on avoiding an ambush that you don't notice the fog, previously a light coating over the ground, has grown thick. Trees are now menacing shadows in your path, and you realise that you have begun to lose any sense of direction. With the moon now hidden behind the leaves and mist, only its faint silvery light giving any indication that it is still up there somewhere, you realise that you have not only lost your sense of direction, but also of time. Unsure of how long you have been out here, you know that pressing on will mean you march forward blindly. Alternatively, you could set up camp for the night, and hope this mist dissipates by morning.
 
When traveling through the woods Aramil is sure to let Henjk know how inconveniencing it is that their pace is slowed by heavy armour, or limited vision.

Aramil also chides Nazire for her her incessant humming, and the idle plucking at her lyre, as he felt that the group should be attempting to not attract to much attention.

For Gimble, who was both quiet, and a gifted scout, Aramil eventually complined about how the stature of gnomes led to them always being under foot...

Despite all of his whinging, Aramil kept careful eye on his companions. If anyone stumbled, or got snagged in the underbrush, Aramil was at their side to offer aid though he did so in a tone that conveyed how put out he was at having to help. Once the mists settled in, Aramil was regularly calling out to Henjk who had offered to follow from a distance. Aramil did not like having Henjk too far behind. While these complaints about Henjk's slow pace may have grated on the others, the cause behind them was to both keep the party from getting separated, and to allow Aramil to check on Henjk to make sure no ill had befallen him.
 
As they trudged through the forest, Gimbel felt more and more relaxed. True, he'd never been to far into this forest, but a forest was a forest. Sure, there were differences. Plants and animals were different forest to forest, but they all acted the same. Each forest was a dance. Every bug, plant, or animal did exactly what you expected, Moved in a precise pattern, and worked together to weave the most ornate tapestry imaginable.

The further in they walked, the more often he found himself in Aramils usual spot, leading the group.

Even though his eyes cut through the darkness, that damn fog was starting to make it hard to see. The thicker it got, the more he slowed their pace. Pushing for speed would probably just result in tripping, and getting hurt.

Finally, after a few hours of walking, when the came upon a relative clearing, Gimbel stops the group. "Unless anybody has any other plans, I think we should camp here for the night. It's already getting late. We won't do the girl any favors if we're to tired to function. Not to mention this blasted fog is making everything worse! We're mire likely to fall in a hole then we are to find anybody."
 
Henjk walks slowly behind the party.

Moving slowly on foot was something that Henjk was used too. Most of his traveling was done on ship. His armor was heavy and his shield felt like carrying a boulder, but Henjk was persistant and kept moving. He called back to Aramil whenever he heard the signal. He was grateful that they slowed their usually hasty pace. He knew he was slowing them down, but knew they would eventually be happy that he was there when the blows started flying. His shield would go from being a burden whilst traveling to a bulwark of defense.

Henjk finally catches up to the group. Panting he says "I agree we should camp here, I will take first watch".
 
Nazire hops and skips along, humming a tuneless song as she skirts through the underbrush. This is the most exciting thing she's ever done - adventuring for real with her new friends. As Henjk offers first watch, Nazire is to wired to even think about sleeping right now. "I'll stay up with you Henjk! You can tell me all about yourself, where you came from, how you got here, where you were going, who your family was..." Nazire continues to list off things, not noticing if anyone is actually listening to her.
 
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"cool. I'll take last watch if you guys don't mind. I've been told that if my sleep gets interrupted, I turn into a grumps."

Looking around the small clearing he sees a respectable tree, with a lot of close branches. Thinking he could nestle in between a few of them, he walks over to the tree. After making sure his pack is strapped tight, he looks up. The lowest branch is higher than he was expecting, but shouldn't be a problem.

After jumping for a few minutes and the branch staying just out of reach he decides on a different approach. Turning around and walking about 15 feet from the tree he crouched down like a runner about to start a race.

Like a shot (or so he likes to think) he takes off, running right at the tree. Making a spectacular running jump, he stretches out his hands....

And misses the branch. But he didn't miss the tree entirely. Because he was running straight at the tree, he collides with the trunk. The oh so solid trunk. Made of wood. Solid, trunky, wood.

"OWWWWW!!" He complains, while rubbing the side of his face. Hoping everybody else was to preoccupied to see what he was doing, he flips over, scoots back against the tree and says loudly, "this sure looks like a good tree to fall asleep under."
 
With a weary sigh, Aramil lets his pack fall to the ground. "Surely you jest, Gimble..." By now the others were familiar with how Aramil would drone on whenever they were expected to sleep under an open sky, or in a cave, or in anything less than an establishment both well reputed, and with more than adequate bathing facilities. Used to it though they might be, Aramil prattled on, "The best you could find for us is to sleep under a tree? On the damp earth? With nary bed, nor blanket in sight? I suppose next you will tell us that we had best forgo a fire so as not to alert anything in the woods that we are here, hrmm?"

All the while Aramil kept an ear keenly trained on both Nazire, and Henjk. While Aramil rarely spoke about his own background, and never about his own childhood, he usually made no secret that he was ravenously interested in the stories of his companions. He might feign indifference, but he was eager to know more about the people with whom he traveled.
 
Henjk was used to living in tight quarters. Basically living on ships will do that to you. He was also very creative which led its usefulness to being a blacksmith. Henjk overheard Aramil’s rant to Gimble about sleeping on the damp earth and chuckled.

Henjk takes his shield from his back and lays it near a tree. He takes his belay pin and hammers it into the tree about 4 feet above the shield with his smithing hammer. He ties one end of the hempen rope to it and ties a stick into it about 10 feet down. He takes that stick and shoves it into the ground. Finally, Henjk lays his bedroll over the rope like a makeshift tent and ties the ends down.
“Hey Aramil, if you don’t want to sleep on the ground you have to get a little creative!”

Henjk is pretty open with his friends when it comes to his past. The Stormwinds are a proud family and are not ashamed. He is appreciative that Nazire will stay up with him for the first watch.
“Well, Naz….I grew up in Neverwinter, a city of craftsmen. I lived with my father, a blacksmith, and my mother who kept the house tidy and helped my father orchestrate smithing jobs. We lived above the forge so needless to say I am used to sleeping with what some people would say is “uncomfortable conditions”. However I was always grateful that the forge kept the house warm and my mother did her best to keep it tidy. I trained with my father for many years to learn the craft and spent my free time down at the docks dreaming of a life at sea. Once I grew up I decided that I wanted to pursue blacksmithing, but as a sailor. I worked out deals with merchant and naval ships that would pay me gold to mend the iron fixings on ships and craft swords and shields for the crew. Whenever we stopped in port I would lease some forgetime and create what I needed to make. The ships’ captains would pay me and then I would find another ship to sign a contract with. My last contract ended me up in Daggerford where I met all of you.”
 
At a loss for a way to display his obvious superiority to Henjk's resourcefulness, Aramil opts for an attempt at a dignified silence, and tries to find a position under a tree where he thinks he is less likely to get wet if rains com in the night. He settle in for a cold night tucked into the nook of a tree's roots, and then chimes in, "As I have the best eyes for these dark hours, I will keep the middle watch..."
 
Already laying down and having watches assigned, Gimbel quickly nods off to sleep, dreaming dreams of adventure.

Snoring like a buffalo, he's dead to the world.
 
The night passes uneventfully as the mists swirl around you. Often, the person on watch spots someone or something moving in the mist, but it always just turns out to be the moonlight forming the image of a face, or a hand, or a monster. In the morning, the mist still lingers, but it's not as thick, and you find you can probably navigate your way through it. Pressing onwards, after a short period of time, you encounter a road. The loose cobbles travel from left to right, disappearing into the fog in both directions. From the left, you hear the sound of hooves, and see a faint light approaching. Within the light, you see dozens of faces, human and inhuman, writhing around each other and screaming silently. Unlike last night, these are not indistinct enough to put down to tricks of the light, and whatever is causing them to appear is heading straight towards you.
 
Upon reaching the road Aramil mumbles to himself, "...There was a road? We walked through the forest, and there was a road? We could have come this way in a carriage, and washed away all the foul memories of that failed wine steward's collection of dreck with a fine elven vintage..." The sound approaching hooves snaps him out of his revere. "Do you hear something?"

With the ominous fog hanging thinkly about the party, Aramil readys both himself and his bow for trouble, and slips into the dense haze.
 
"huh, would ya look at that. A road." That's pretty much all Gimbel says when he sees the path cutting through the forest.

"Do you hear something?" Gimbel hears Aramil ask.

""Yeah, I do Aram-" Gimbel says, only to stop halfway to turning to the elf, only to find him gone."Hate when he does that..." The gnome grumbles to himself.

Looking down the road to the sound, he sees the faces. Dozens of faces, somehow swirling around each other.

"WHAT IN THE DEEP WOODS IS THAT!?" He all but yells at the ghastly sight. He steps closer to Henjk and Nazire, drawing his scimitar as he does. With blade in hand he looks at the faces, looks down at his sword, looks back to the faces, then mumbles again, "oh, this is gonna be bad."
 
Henjk sees the oncoming horde of humanoids and gets an eerie feeling in his gut.

"Aramil, can you see what it is that is coming at us?!" Henjk looks around, but Aramil is gone. He is familiar with the rogue's antics and ability. It was better that Aramil was hidden with his bow in hand ready to strike at an unsuspecting foe. Henjk retrieves his shield, runs to take cover behind a tree, and trips on something. He looks up " GAH! Gimble watch out!". As he gets to the tree he rubs some moss on the front of the shield to deter the reflection of the light on it. He isn't nearly as good at hiding himself as Aramil, but this will do. At least whatever is coming is moving fast and might not see him. However, he keeps his flail handy just in case whatever is coming is not friendly....
 
[Hopefully] Unseen, Aramil nods, and slinks forward for an advantageous vantage point from which to both observe those who approach, and strike at them as efficiently as possible if they turn out to be hostile to his companions.
 
Nazire's head whirls around at all the activity, her heart thudding loudly in her chest which makes it hard for her to grab her bow and notch an arrow. "Maybe they're friendly?" she hisses out the whisper, crouching as low as she can get next to her friends. "I mean, maybe they just want to pass through or something?" She glances at Aramil and Gimble, a worried look etched on her face. While she has traveled far, she hasn't seen much battle along the way.
 
The hoofbeats approach, and you are soon able to make out the source. At first, all you can see is the silhouette of a person on horseback. However, as they draw close, you see that both the horse, and the rider, are skeletal, with only the scarcest shreds of flesh hanging from bleached bones beneath tattered armour. While there are reigns in the horse's mouth, the rider does not hold them. Instead, it holds a rusty blade in one hand, and a lantern in the other. The lantern in lit, and the eerie light shining from it illuminates the haunting faces in the mist. Reaching the point of the path near the group of you, both human and horse skull turn to look at those of you that haven't bothered to try and hide. However, they show little interest in you, and continue walking past you along the road.
 
Suspecting that this most startling sight may be an outrider, or scout, for some larger and more menacing party, Aramil remains out of sight, and observing.
 
Waiting until the specters are gone before speaking Gimbel says, "huh. Would ya look at that, Naz, looks like you were right." He shrugs and sheathes his sword.

Looking both ways down the road, then across it into the woods on the other side he shakes his head.

"Anybody have any ideas on which way to go?? The way I see it there are three ways we can go. We can follow the creepy parade of undead or we can see where they're coming from. Or we can just keep going straight, pretending we didn't see anything, including this road. " He paused for a beat while he thinks about it, then says "Nah, that sounds boring. Let's narrow it down to two options, see where they're going or see where they're been. Hjenk?? Naz??" Deliberately leaving out Aramil. While Gimbel himself doesn't go in for all that cloak, dagger, and sneaking around, he wasn't going to ruin anything Aramil is working on. They're still friends after all.
 
"Where there is one undead, there is always more!" Henjk exclaimed. "Undead are, well, unusual for these parts. I think we should follow it to see where it goes."
 
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