(071) Beringar's Fate

[waysoftheearth]

All this transpires without interruption.

Desmond's poking in the dirt and turning of rocks reveals nothing but tiny black beetles that scurry for shelter.

There's nothing preventing you from marching for the abbey, and--all being well--making it back in time for your evening meal.

If this the plan we'll switch back to wilderness exploration scale and leg it...

[sully]

Dorgan wonders out loud if perhaps now would be a good time for he and Dhren to head to Southwatch and visit with the elven healers...

[waysoftheearth]

Dorgan considers his current position to be somewhat nearer than the abbey is to Southwatch; but the Elvish outpost is certainly still a goodly march off.

It is now near midday of the day he departed the abbey; heading back this very afternoon to spend another night at the abbey will certainly not bring him nearer to salvation--but neither would it leave him very much farther from it.

[sully]

If Dorgan returns to the abbey for a night, he wakes with three days left before the Slow Poison spell wears off, right?

[waysoftheearth]

If Dorgan returns to the abbey for a night, he wakes with three days left before the Slow Poison spell wears off, right?

That is correct.

[sully]

Disregard my earlier post. Dorgan is ready to return to the Abbey. Perhaps the group will decide to return to the cave on the morrow in larger numbers, in which case Dorgan would want to be around to help.

[ehiker133]

"Let's get back to the abbey and see what kind of trouble everyone has found in our absence," Desmond proclaims, cinching the straps on his pack tight for a quick return to the abbey.

[waysoftheearth]

It is swiftly agreed and, although Dhren gazes wistfully to the south for a moment, packs are shouldered and the team makes a motion to hike back to the abbey...

[waysoftheearth]

The weather is fair enough, and there are goat trails to follow up and down the Hinterland hill-sides so the marching party of Desmond/Mondes (the two-headed Hobbit), Dorgan (the poisoned Dwarf), Dhren (the Elf) and Ashtad (the archer-woman) make good time north-easterly for half an hour or so.

It's then that they spy ahead a fellow resting in the paltry shade beneath a wiry tree to the side of the track. He looks to be a burly sort, and it's plain that he has spotted the rather unusual "militia" company as they approach. Truth be told there is little else to look at on this forlorn Hinterlands hillside!

Fatalt. Best of luck; your adventure begins... now!

[Fatal T]

Morgan is immediately wary as he spies the figures in the distance moving towards him. Coming to his feet, he assumes a ready stance, his flail gripped loosely in his right hand - one can never be too careful in the wilds!