Immersive Ink

coffee wrote:
Dieter goes over (homing in on the snores) and gives Gustave a gentle nudge with his boot.

(And if that doesn't work, he'll give him a not-so-gentle nudge...)

"Anybody want to lay odds that this fog isn't entirely natural?" he grumbles.

makofan wrote:
Caine breaks out his unappetizing rations. "Might as well start a fire and get warm - no sense travelling in this fog"

verhaden wrote:
Mads the Fair

"But if this fog is of the unnatural sort, there's no telling how long it will last. The land itself detects our presence." Mads says, as he suits himself up.

tombowings wrote:
Flewellen is going to sit down on the ground in the mists of the fog and attempt to commune with the natural world, attempting to discern if the fog is natural of magical in nature. "Always worth a try," he thinks to himself.

eris wrote:
"We aren't going to travel in this goop." Olaf says, "We'd get lost for sure."

"I suppose we'll have to wait here for the fog to lift."

Malibu wrote:
Thorgrim busies himself helping Caine start the fire while keeping a wary eye on the fog.

eris wrote:
Olaf will see to the mule. Mules can get by with little water, but they want feeding every day, so Olaf makes sure it has feed and access to the grasses near the "hole in the wall" where the party over-nighted. The warrior will stay with the mule while it is feeding, keeping an eye on it. The mule's ears are much sharper than his, probably sharper than an elf's, so if something is sneaking around in the fog the mule should hear it first.

tonneau wrote:
"Really!", says Gustave indignantly, roused from his slumber, "I was just about to engage in a most tantilising bout of hanky panky with a certain lady-of-standing and her sister. As if its not already enough to have to wake to see your face", he adds, grinning at Dieter.
"So, are the eggs ready?", he enquires politely, climbing from his bedding.

waysoftheearth wrote:
Olaf leads the mule out of the hole-in-the-wall and it happily begins to nuzzle its way through the vegetation in search of some grazing, not in the least disturbed by the fog.

Flewellen stalks about sniffing the air and connecting with handfuls of cold, wet earth and brambles. He senses nothing unnatural about the state of the weather...

Meanwhile, at the camp Caine and Throgrim belatedly set about establishing a camp fire. "How we would've enjoyed some of that last night!" comments Fix with a shiver.

Both the mercenary fighting-Men make a point of standing near to Ulric, the apparent master of the coin purse, and eventually worked up the courage to enquire as to their day's pay.

"I'm going for a walk," chirps Anwyn, apparently disinterested by this, and skips off into the fog soon vanishing from sight.

mushgnome wrote:
Michele mills about helping with various camp chores and checking his gear for the umpteenth time. Clearly, he is eager to move on.