(011) The Expedition North

[waysoftheearth]

waysoftheearth wrote:
Some time later, Ulric has sorted out the day's pay to the mercenaries, and you are all beginning to bore. It looks as though the fog has burned off a little, or at least the light appears to be a brighter shade of grey.

Then Anwyn emerges from the fog with her usual quirky smile.

"The fog is trapped in these gullies," she piques in her high pitched Elvish voice, "But the world beyond is clear of it."

[waysoftheearth]

waysoftheearth wrote:
With that the company departs the campsite and within the quarter hour has marched back out of the foggy gully.

In the world beyond it is now perhaps midmorning on a grey, but relatively still winter's day. The ground is cold and damp, and the last vestiges of the night's mist still shrouds gullies and ditches.

You can avoid the ridge lands by veering north-east and following closely the river's course. Or you can proceed directly north toward your goal by either navigating the fog filled labyrinth of gullies, or by scrambling atop the ridges and attempting to find a path over the top.

It may prove difficult to get the cart to the ridge tops, however.

(What to do?)

[waysoftheearth]

heartless wrote:
"I do not feel good about that fog so I'm for following closely to the river's course, as it seems a safer way to travel", says Padrig.

[waysoftheearth]

eris wrote:
"Yes, I think following the river is the best route, for now at least." Olaf says.

"We should be looking for game as we scout ahead. Even a rabbit or two would stretch our rations."

[waysoftheearth]

waysoftheearth wrote:
Very well.

The company veers north-east by the grey light of the winter's day. By noon it becomes apparent that your path is leading you into a wide but ancient river flat, perhaps some two or three score yards across. To either side the wall of ridgelands build up and up as you proceed, until by afternoon you have the distinct impression that you are trudging down a wide river canyon. Though the watercourse itself rarely exceeds a score of yards in width the canyon walls seem ever increasing in height.

(1d6)

As the grey shadow of afternoon falls across the canyon floor, those rough and muddy walls are at least twenty feet high to either side. There is little chance, if any, of a flank attack. You press on, weaving your way along the canyon floor, when at last -- in the few hours ere dusk, you spy ahead what must be the bridge you initially set out for. Or the remains of it.

A ruined stone-work lays ahead of and above you. Squatting atop either canyon wall a hundred yards ahead is a low, stone fortification. Stretching out from either structure is the arc of an ancient bridge -- but it does not meet in the middle. Instead it seems to have collapsed long ago.

It is impossible to see more detail from this distance in the failing light... in order to learn more you will have to get closer....

[waysoftheearth]

tombowings wrote:
"Let us keep moving," says Flewellen, "I would hate for there to be something living in that pile of stone that could creep up on while we sleep."

[waysoftheearth]

waysoftheearth wrote:
You press on, and in just a dozen yards more you round a slight bend in the canyon to meet a most unexpected sight. Standing ready, as if awaiting you, is a traveller -- not so unlike yourselves.

The Man has long, straight hair -- the mark of a southerner -- and his eyes sparkle in the dying light of day. He wears a stout carapace of hide, and his hand rests easily upon the haft of a weighty mace. Clearly he has heard you coming...


Andaros.

You had heard rumour that their was old gold to be had in the ruined temples said to still stand among the fens and marshes north of Ket. Having never had the gift of persuasive words, you set out alone, but found yourself delayed for most of yesterday by a thick and noisome fog.

Your adventure begins... now.

[waysoftheearth]

tombowings wrote:
"See, I told you we should move on," says Flewellen sarcastically.

[waysoftheearth]

eris wrote:

You press on, and in just a dozen yards more you round a slight bend in the canyon to meet a most unexpected sight. Standing ready, as if awaiting you, is a traveller -- not so unlike yourselves.

OOC: None of us saw any tracks left by this man? Either we're very unobservant, the ground is a lot harder than I thought, he came from the other direction, or he's very good at hiding his tracks. [img]images/smiley/smiley.png[/img]

The Man has long, straight hair -- the mark of a southerner -- and his eyes sparkle in the dying light of day. He wears a stout carapace of hide, and his hand rests easily upon the haft of a weighty mace. Clearly he has heard you coming...

Olaf holds up an empty hand palm out toward the stranger, "Ho! Hail and well met, stranger!"

"I sure didn't expect to see a lone man way out here!"

[waysoftheearth]

eris wrote:

"See, I told you we should move on," says Flewellen sarcastically.

Olaf chuckles at Flewellen's joke saying, "So you did, so you did."

"Stranger, I am called Olaf, this is Flewellen, Deiter, Mads, Victor, Anwyn..." and so on around the group the young warrior introduces the party.

"If I may ask, what is your name and how did you come to be all alone way out here?"