The companions set out from the Mor broch bound for Marrowglen with full bellies and well rested making it past the spot where they had fought the lavellan before midday, they are making good time and if they keep on the march should make Marrowglen before midnight.

A quick meal is had of bread and cheese supplied by the Mors and the companions venture onwards.......

As dusk is approaching the way stones still mark the way in the fading sunlight and soon torch's needs be lit.

After another few hours a figure comes into view on the road ahead, watching them approach.

Almeric puts a hand to his blade but lets voices with a more local flavour be the first to speak.....

Cainneach can just make out the figure in the darkness, though the light cast by the torches does little to reveal the particulars of this individual.  It seems unusual for a lone traveller to be out on the road at this hour, which recommends caution.  Almeric's guard is already up and Cainneach is inclined to follow his lead.  The forester casually readies his longbow and strains to get a better look at this mysterious figure.  Salt waits obediently at his side, eagerly sniffing the cold night air, sensing that something must be amiss.

Perception 20  (w/Disadvantage due to darkness?)

Salt - Perception 23  (having a sniff, is this figure human/-oid?)

Forester and Hounds keen senses pierce the darkness resolving the figure into the form of one of the older men they saw in Marrowglen, Salts demeanour is guarded which Cainneach takes to mean there are other figures concealed somewhere off to the sides....

Cainneach whispers to Almeric primarily, but loud enough that the others should at least get the gist.  "Looks to be one of the veterans from Marrowglen ... and Salt seems to think there be more besides in the darkness.  Hard to gauge their intentions from here, but at this hour my mind is drawn back to those riders we were tracking.  What do you think we should do?"

Almeric mused, " They must have seen us by now with our torches lit but they haven't hailed us.....perhaps they are on edge for some reason? I'd wager you lot against the entire garrison at Marrowglen honestly. I don't think they pose any danger to us. "

" Hail them. A more local accent might find warmer welcome..........or less if they're expecting raiders but its well late in the season for that and they likely don't travel by road."

Vardi murmurs "Maybe trouble. Could just be new lads in training. Nae sure." and quietly shifts her shield arm further into the grips, but does not yet reach for a weapon.

Almeric nodded, " Famh? Perhaps you should make introductions...you've a mostly local accent and a womans voice might throw them off enough to give us advantage if there is something nefarious afoot."

Thatch was about as far away from a local as you could possibly be and wisely kept his mouth shut. He did however, remember the men they encountered in Marrowglen earlier and decided to prepare for the worst. With a glance at Ser Almeric and the others, he unslung his short bow and stepped off of the trail, working his way forward through the brush and attempting to hide in the darkness in case the man meant ill will.

Stealth: 10.

.

Quote from Damian_May >>

The companions set out from the Mor broch bound for Marrowglen with full bellies and well rested making it past the spot where they had fought the lavellan before midday, they are making good time and if they keep on the march should make Marrowglen before midnight.

A quick meal is had of bread and cheese supplied by the Mors and the companions venture onwards.......

 

 After finishing their first meal together since the retinue bade farewell to the Mors and set out once more for Marrowglen, Famh turns to Cainneach with a pensive look on her face.  "We actually did it, leannan. We've accomplishit our lairds' business.  Dae ye ken whit thon means?"  She takes a deep breath and screws up her e'en tight.  "It means we've probably furtherit the alliance betwixt our Baron and Duke Carnasse tae the point we'll soon be climbin' aboord thon wild sea kelpie ... I mean, the Linden ... for another twa or three lovely weeks o' seasickness sailin' back south tae Port Clyster." A mighty sigh follows; but Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich has grown just a bit since she set out on the northward pleasure cruise, and after a little reflection she is able to look on the bright side. "Weel, at least we'll be able tae comfort ilka other openly, whether thare's been time for us tae be marrit or nae.  And at least we'll nae have tae stop at Karvala's broch again on t'way back." She shudders with the memory, then sighs.

"We will hae tae bid fareweel tae Vardi, thouch, juist as she's become sic a friend an a battle sister."  A truly sad look crosses Famh's face, touched by just a wee dram of mischievous sparkle glinting o'er the amethyst pools of her e'en.  "And she and Ori complement ilka other sae weel, in battle or oot o't.  I wis sure thon wi' a little work I coud see thaim marrit too ere a year were oot.  E'en thouch they're baith sae...,"

... she breaks off as a new thought strikes her. "You know, wi' the alliance now betwixt our Baron and sic an important Duke o Thuland, I'd think the Thulish king wid want someone tae represent him i' the baron's court.  An gin she's proven her worth already doin a hero's deit thon freit his majesty's realm o' sic a pestilence as yon fachan, fichtin' alongside the retinue o ane o the Baron's knichts, sae much the better."  Unless the ensuing discussion with Cainneach devolves into an absolute clash of opinions as to whether this is a good course, that is essentially the wording of her suggestion as she submits it to Sir Almeric, together with her own personal recommendation.

"She'd be a great help i' the mellay, Sir.  Ye shoud ha' seen thon last hammer stroke I tauld ye aboot thon staggerit the fachan; an hou well she an Ori timit their blows tae fall ane straicht after other throuchout the whole combat."

Quote from OisinmacCameron >>

Quote from Damian_May >>

Almeric nodded, " Famh? Perhaps you should make introductions...you've a mostly local accent and a womans voice might throw them off enough to give us advantage if there is something nefarious afoot."

 "Ay, Sir.  I'll try and lull their suspicions of us."   Famh wraps her sling about her wrist so it looks like a leather bracelet in the dim light of the torches, and palms her magic needle in her left hand (of course Famh is left handed.)  Then she steps forward a pace or two in front of the retinue, just until she is out of the brightest torchlight.  Raising her right hand to show it is empty handed, she hails the figure on the road ahead with a quiver of feigned timidity in her voice.  "H... hello, sir? C, oud ye tell me gin -- gin we're on the richt road for Marrowglen? A'm afraid we've lost our way i' the gloamin'. An gin A micht speir wha A micht have the honour ... o addressing?"  As she speaks, she puckers her brow in mock anxiety to conceal the intentness with which she peers through the dark in hopes her sharp faerie e'en can spot the telltale glint of steel or wood in the figure's hands or off to the sides,

=========

Persuasion (to lull the figure's suspicions) 15

Perception (focusing on anything the figure may be holding, but also using peripheral vision to check the darkness close to them) 16

 Edited for character color consistency

Quote from OisinmacCameron >>

Quote from Damian_May >>

The companions set out from the Mor broch bound for Marrowglen with full bellies and well rested making it past the spot where they had fought the lavellan before midday, they are making good time and if they keep on the march should make Marrowglen before midnight.

A quick meal is had of bread and cheese supplied by the Mors and the companions venture onwards.......

 After finishing their first meal together since the retinue bade farewell to the Mors and set out once more for Marrowglen, Famh turns to Cainneach with a pensive look on her face.  "We actually did it, leannan. We've accomplishit our lairds' business.  Dae ye ken whit thon means?"  She takes a deep breath and screws up her e'en tight.  "It means we've probably furtherit the alliance betwixt our Baron and Duke Carnasse tae the point we'll soon be climbin' aboord thon wild sea kelpie ... I mean, the Linden ... for another twa or three lovely weeks o' seasickness sailin' back south tae Port Clyster." A mighty sigh follows; but Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich has grown just a bit since she set out on the northward pleasure cruise, and after a little reflection she is able to look on the bright side. "Weel, at least we'll be able tae comfort ilka other openly, whether thare's been time for us tae be marrit or nae.  And at least we'll nae have tae stop at Karvala's broch again on t'way back." She shudders with the memory, then sighs.

"We will hae tae bid fareweel tae Vardi, thouch, juist as she's become sic a friend an a battle sister."  A truly sad look crosses Famh's face, touched by just a wee dram of mischievous sparkle glinting o'er the amethyst pools of her e'en.  "And she and Ori complement ilka other sae weel, in battle or oot o't.  I wis sure thon wi' a little work I coud see thaim marrit too ere a year were oot.  E'en thouch they're baith sae...,"

... she breaks off as a new thought strikes her. "You know, wi' the alliance now betwixt our Baron and sic an important Duke o Thuland, I'd think the Thulish king wid want someone tae represent him i' the baron's court.  An gin she's proven her worth already doin a hero's deit thon freit his majesty's realm o' sic a pestilence as yon fachan, fichtin' alongside the retinue o ane o the Baron's knichts, sae much the better."  Unless the ensuing discussion with Cainneach devolves into an absolute clash of opinions as to whether this is a good course, that is essentially the wording of her suggestion as she submits it to Sir Almeric, together with her own personal recommendation.

"She'd be a great help i' the mellay, Sir.  Ye shoud ha' seen thon last hammer stroke I tauld ye aboot thon staggerit the fachan; an hou well she an Ori timit their blows tae fall ane straicht after other throuchout the whole combat."

(Travelling briefly back in time ...)

"Oh, I hadn't thought any further ahead than getting back to Marrowglen.  So much has passed since we've left the Baron I'd nearly forgotten where we'd come from!  It will be nice to return, though like you, I don't look forward to the travel by sea.  You'll be a great comfort to me, indeed, and I to you, or as much as I can be in the wretched circumstances.  I do fear for Ori after his suffering on the way north, although he seems to be in tremendous form as of late!"

He continues with a thoughtful look, "Vardi has fit in with us so well, I'd scarce conceived that she might not continue along with us.  It's a real fear, but I think you're right in that she'd be a great asset to our party and to the Baron if she were allowed to leave the Duke for a little while.  Certainly a great match for Ori in the fray, though I don't want to speak on any other fits ... I'll leave those dreams or schemes to you, leannan!"  Having been trained by Dru away from so-called civilized society for so long, and now having adventured with such impressive women as Famh, Vardi, and Tana, Cainneach had no issue giving credit to those fierce companions and their martial and magical prowess.

(... and back in the present situation ...)

Cainneach is poised to draw and fire an arrow if necessary, but remains at Sir Almeric's side for the moment, keeping an eye out for any sudden movements in the darkness.  His anxiety increases when Famh steps forward, but their party is so formidable at this point, the forester feels they have little to fear from mere ruffians.

Quote from OisinmacCameron >>

Quote from OisinmacCameron >>

Quote from Damian_May >>

Almeric nodded, " Famh? Perhaps you should make introductions...you've a mostly local accent and a womans voice might throw them off enough to give us advantage if there is something nefarious afoot."

 "Ay, Sir.  I'll try and lull their suspicions of us."   Famh wraps her sling about her wrist so it looks like a leather bracelet in the dim light of the torches, and palms her magic needle in her left hand (of course Famh is left handed.)  Then she steps forward a pace or two in front of the retinue, just until she is out of the brightest torchlight.  Raising her right hand to show it is empty handed, she hails the figure on the road ahead with a quiver of feigned timidity in her voice.  "H... hello, sir? C, oud ye tell me gin -- gin we're on the richt road for Marrowglen? A'm afraid we've lost our way i' the gloamin'. An gin A micht speir wha A micht have the honour ... o addressing?"  As she speaks, she puckers her brow in mock anxiety to conceal the intentness with which she peers through the dark in hopes her sharp faerie e'en can spot the telltale glint of steel or wood in the figure's hands or off to the sides,

=========

Persuasion (to lull the figure's suspicions) 15

Perception (focusing on anything the figure may be holding, but also using peripheral vision to check the darkness close to them) 16

Thatch creeps around in the dark as Famh speaks.

The figure on the road seems to pause after hearing Famhs voice, " Aye, ye're gaun the richt wey."

Another voice piped up from the side of the road leading the figure standing to slap his forehead.

" I ken that lass. She's the wee ane that wis wi Sir Almeric."

" True? Ah, raight than.  Come up, come up. We're just makkin rends, been a spot o' trouble at Marrowglen these past nights so Sheriff has us watchin' road."

Another voice muttered but Thatch picked it up from his hiding place, " Like its on tha feckin' road....."

"Trouble! ... whit kind o' trouble?  And where frae?"  Famh slows to a near-halt in the dim light between the two groups, looking about at the surrounding darkness with seeming anxiety as she beckons her friends forward.  If the retinue moves accordingly she will drift forward also, managing always to not quite be in the light, until the groups have closed enough to see the faces of the men ahead in the retinue's torchlight.  "We havena come across any sort of unsaucht on the road south sae far."  Even as she says this her eyes and ears are busy scanning the night; and her memory is busy placing the voices of the men that she has heard to see if she remembers any from her previous time in Marrowglen.  Especially if she hears any of the young men she, Ori, Vardi and Sir Almeric questioned between them.

=========

• INT (remembering stuff) roll to place voices 16
• Perception (to spot anything amiss, but now allowing that the man could be telling the truth and broadening her focus to include the general vicinity) 19

Famh, and others, place most of the voices as men that were in the dining hall at the Marrowglen manor.....none of them are the new recruits that were questioned.

Thatch and Cainneach see nothing out of sorts as four men come up from the edges to join the older man.

As Almeric comes forward the old soldier throws up a hasty salute.

" Been som' folk deid, terrible bisniss, .....hears hopin' you've better news on your end."

" We'll escort yer back."

"Oi mate, if ye be guarden the road, best you stay put I figure. I reckon any trouble that bothers us on our way won't be trouble for anyone else after. But who are we to turn down a free escort aye?" Ori is all smiles as he goes to continue walking, preferring to be un escorted but won't press the issue if they choose to follow. Ori is more concerned on getting business wrapped up and back to see Tana and Fergus. He fears they may not have faired as well as the rest of the group, not that they couldn't handle themselves, but they were left with only themselves in a full castle.  Ori much rather be in danger but all together where he can keep an eye on everyone.

Cainneach slings his bow across his back and comes forward with Almeric, Famh, and Ori.  It was a relief to not have to scrap with any brigands in the darkness, but the ranger agreed with Ori that they could handle any trouble of the non-supernatural variety that came their way.  He gives a polite nod to the men from Marrowglen as he approaches, but keeps his guard up.  Cainneach was mighty curious as to what sort of trouble had befallen the town in their absence, but he'd leave it to Almeric and Ori to draw out the details at the proper time.

Thatch steps out of the shadows and brush along the side of the road, looking sheepish as he slings his shortbow on his back and falls into step next to Cainneach. “Trouble in town?  What sort of trouble?” As soon as he said it, he knows he should have let Ser Almeric lead the questioning, and he gives the knight an apologetic look. But Thatch is curious and committed at this point, so he turns to look towards where he heard the men muttering in the back “And if it’s not on the road, why did they send you lot out here? Where do you reckon it is?”

Almeric caught Thatchs eye and gave a sharp nod, he would speak with the Sheriff but his most excellent company would likely find the truth much faster a little closer to ground level.

The older soldier gave Thatch a quick look and the younger man a slight glare as they moved uphill but left it at that and didn't seem fussed enough to prevent him speaking.

The young man brushed dirty blonde hair out of his eyes and rubbed a very sparse beard, " Them latest lot of recruits.....them on punishment duty.  Two of them are dead.  One we found three nights ago on the boundary wall frozen stiff as a board with the most terrible look on his face, the other was last evening- went out to wash his face and they found him early next morning his head still dunked in the wash barrel and the barrel frozen solid..."

" Dunno......likely sent us out here cos what else they gonna do.....can't patrol the downs at night without risking someone in a bog or doing an injury."

" What it is? Merker reckons its some kinda bogie and Slett says he saw a whisp of white cloud sliding across the compound and over the wall.  Keenlen, reckons he saw a young lass the other night dressed in a sopping wet dress with her hair plastered down and with skin like chalk just staring at him through window......but he was well in his cups."

" Marrowglens is cursed I say."

Ori winces as Thatch starts asking questions. So close to getting through here without any more missions, he thinks. Ori's head drops as he's the reply. We'll that explains why they didn't find a body down that well, sounds like she got back out on her own one way or another. "Where can we find Keenlen, sounds like he could use another cup or 2?" Hopefully Fahm or Vardi still had the cloth they found and see if this Keenlen saw what he did well enough to recognize it. Hopefully he will be a bit more forward with his answers after his 2 buddies got put on ice. 

Quote from Damian_May >>

Almeric caught Thatchs eye and gave a sharp nod, he would speak with the Sheriff but his most excellent company would likely find the truth much faster a little closer to ground level.

The older soldier gave Thatch a quick look and the younger man a slight glare as they moved uphill but left it at that and didn't seem fussed enough to prevent him speaking.

The young man brushed dirty blonde hair out of his eyes and rubbed a very sparse beard, " Them latest lot of recruits.....them on punishment duty.  Two of them are dead.  One we found three nights ago on the boundary wall frozen stiff as a board with the most terrible look on his face, the other was last evening- went out to wash his face and they found him early next morning his head still dunked in the wash barrel and the barrel frozen solid..."

" Dunno......likely sent us out here cos what else they gonna do.....can't patrol the downs at night without risking someone in a bog or doing an injury."

" What it is? Merker reckons its some kinda bogie and Slett says he saw a whisp of white cloud sliding across the compound and over the wall.  Keenlen, reckons he saw a young lass the other night dressed in a sopping wet dress with her hair plastered down and with skin like chalk just staring at him through window......but he was well in his cups."

" Marrowglens is cursed I say."

 After leading off the questioning, and being ably seconded by first Ori and then Thatch, Famh is content to settle back into the retinue and listen to how the conversation progresses At least until the scruffy-bearded blond youth mentions first a diminution by two of her living suspects and then ... the young pale lass whose dress was soused in water Famh fears she knows all too well.  This is the last news she is expecting to hear from these guardsmen, once her ears told her that none of the new recruits form part of the present group.  In her first shock, as her mind struggles to process the eerie and distressing news ...

=========

(Famh's CHA roll to keep some modicum of her composure in reacting 4)