Red Ponytail looks closely at Marrin, seeming to wonder if she's the leader of this group.

"You question Warleader Heara's decisions?" she asks, with a hint of disbelief in her voice. "The hill giant will remain. All of you too."

Soren sighs at the mention of Heara.

"Yep, Qu'encesta alright," he says quietly to the group. "Heara's their leader. I don't think waiting for her to show up is is the way to go here."

Marrin rubs her eyes, way too tired for this crap.

"Yup."

She twists to look at everyone, and gives them a, 'I tried." Look and opens her hands to invite solutions.

"Something fast, we're on the clock. Again."

Ava rolls her head around on her neck, the frustration of the situation sinking in.  One good deed... and all that.

"Nope.  We are not waiting.  We have no quarrel with you, if you want us to take the giant with us we can, otherwise we'll send him away.  But we cannot sit here and wait, we'll be through your area quickly and will not free anymore giants."

Ethel, rubbing her temple and muttering under her breath, gestures for the party to huddle in close.

"They love their horses and fear the giant's alleged predation upon them.  Good.  I can make those fears worse."

Ethel steps forward, her cloak hanging down, the wind teasing the edges.  Her voice is calm, tired, and heavy with warning.  She allows her hood to fall off, revealing her scarred face.

To the riders, she proclaims, "You’ve buried a man who carries a spirit-bound sickness—he dreams in hoofbeats and coughing blood.  His very soul craves the tender flesh of the horse.  If you’d left him be, perhaps the curse would’ve passed.  But burying him as you did... it tethers the curse to this place.”

“You should’ve let him blow away like a storm does—useless, dumb, and loud. Instead…” she gestures at the churned up earth where Dagg had been buried.  "You planted him in the earth like a seed.  And now the earth listens.”

She turns her eyes to the riders, locking gazes with the one who had spoken.

“I’ve seen this before.  A hunger that touches the living and the dead.  When he chewed that horse flesh he took more than meat into him.  You buried him thinking it was justice, but all you did was give the sickness roots.  Let it soak down.  Now the curse risks becoming more powerful.”

Ethel pauses, as if listening to something on the wind.  She points to one of the riders.  "There... can you hear it?"

Message:  In his ear, that rider hears a whisper on the wind.  "Horse... flesh...".

“If you leave him be, he might carry the curse away—wander until it forgets him.  That is your best hope.  But if you bury him again... if you kill him, if you spill his blood here, it won't leave.  It'll spread across the hills and plains.  It’ll crawl under your tents.  Into you.  Into your horses.  Into your children.”

She lets that hang in the air like smoke, and then adds, quieter:

“We didn’t free him out of mercy.  We freed him to keep this from becoming so much worse.”

[Deception: 12... rolled in the game log with advantage just in case the message worked.  Ugh.  First roll was a 12, second was a 6.  Kinda wish I had rolled first before I typed all that out.]

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­Both riders go still, their horses also pick up on the energy of the riders and stop pawing at the cold ground. Red Ponytail looks from the broken ground to Dagg and then to Ethel.

When she hears words in her ears she startles and looks round quickly. Doubt flickers across her features but at the same time the group notices the talismans and charms that hang from her belt and from the saddle. The other rider looks to the dark winter sky and then back over the horizon to where the rest of their tribe must be.

They lean in and talk quietly to each other.

Dagg has also picked up on what Ethel was saying and he stops ruffling Wolfie’s fur to also look back over at the hole he was rescued from. He looks down at his own feet and then to his massive hands.

“Dagg cursed?” Dagg asks, a rising tone coming to his voice. “Dagg not want to be cursed. Help Dagg not be cursed. Say Dagg not cursed.”

He takes a step towards Ethel, which also brings him a step closer to the riders.

That’s enough for them.

“Stop,” Red Ponytail orders Dagg.

Dagg, who had already stopped looks up and then to Ethel.

“Leave our land now and we’ll let you live,” Red Ponytail says to Ethel. “Do not stop. Do not camp. Ride straight and fast.”

Soren doesn’t wait for anymore to be said. He turns his horse straight north and starts leading the way.

“Go with him now,” Red Ponytail says. “If you delay we will have no choice but to act.”

"Be easy, Dagg. Ethel is wise in the way of curses. If yours can be lifted, she will see it done.", Jan intones solemnly, but with a slight head shake the suggests she is doubtful it is possible.

Marrin grips her reins tightly to keep from clapping but nods along with Jan.

"She'll get you fixed Dagg, we just have to move."

Marrin takes her own advice and starts riding after Soren.

Ethel doesn’t flinch when Red Ponytail gives the command.  She holds her ground, staring at the rider with that same cold, steady gaze.  For a long breath, she says nothing.  Then, ever so slightly, her chin dips.  “So be it,” she murmurs, as if she were granting them clemency.

With that, she turns away—not hastily, but with slow, deliberate steps, her cloak whispering against the cold ground.  As her back fully turns to the riders, and they’re safely behind her, she casts a quick glance to Marrin, Jan, and Avaria.  Her expression doesn’t crack into a grin or even a smirk—but her eyes go wide just a hair, and her brows lift with a look that practically screams: Sweet merciful gods, I cannot believe that worked.

Then, to Dagg, she speaks quietly, “We’ll talk more of it on the trail, Dagg.  Just walk behind us, keep quiet, and try not to worry about it.”

She mounts her horse with the weariness of a woman who’s seen far too many close calls on this trip.

Jan will wheel her mount, waiting to ensure the others head out, her ringed hand crooked on the far side of her horse to conjure the sounds of grinding stones in the place where Dagg was buried if the horsefolk seem to be about to have a change of mind. Once her companions are moving and the horsefolk are holding still, she'll kick her mount into following after.

Once they are a few hundred feet, she'll recall K and get the debrief from them, as well as brief them on what has transpired here, before sending them aloft to invisibly monitor for any following horsefolk as they head directly north out of their lands.

Ava gets a chill down her spine as Ethel performs for the horsefolk.  She was so good that Ava found herself looking back at the hole Dag was buried in.  But as Ethel turned around and gave them all that look, it took all in her to not break into a grin.  She quickly turned away and rode up next to Soren.  Well, at least that distraction was less than the rest of have been, thanks to Ethel.

The group trots briskly northwards, with Dagg and Wolfie loping along behind the horses. But they both appear to be able to keep up.

In the distance, to the east, you can all easily make out three riders keeping pace with you. They never get closer than probably 1,000 feet but they're always there.

K' pops back and has plenty of images to share. They never got close enough to count, but there was clearly a large party of riders further to the east, easily numbering in the hundreds.

As the group continues, Soren never lets up. The temperatures are cool, and getting colder, but still the horses sweat.

Dagg complains that they should stop to eat, but when Soren doesn't stop, Dagg just keeps following.

As the sun begins to get closer to setting, the number of outriders has grown. There's easily a dozen keeping pace with the party now.

"There," Soren calls out, pointing ahead as you ride.

It's hard to make out in the dimming light, but each of you can just see a flat line ahead: The Long Road.

The outriders have now spread out behind you, but still never closing the distance.

Just as you lose all daylight, your horses clamber up onto the slightly raised roadway.

Soren finally lets his horse come to a stop.

"They shouldn't follow across the road," Soren says looking back at what appears to be at least 20 riders now. "I'm not sure the horses can take much more. We should find somewhere to camp soon."

Ava breathes a big sigh of relief.  "The horses?  I don't think I could either."  She hurts.. everywhere.  At the end there she was wincing at every bump and manuever her horse was taking.  "Please, where do you want to camp, I need to get off this horse.  Now that I know we can stop, I can't go any further."

She sees the riders behind them, but as they never closed the distance, she kept most of her attention on not falling apart as her body ached.  She stole some glances at Ethel from time to time, worried about how she was holding up.

((Horses in a lather?))

Marrin will hop of Ned, stumble a bit as her legs give way, and then stand and start patting him and prestidigating him dry so he doesn't get cold now they are not moving.

"I am not going to be able to sit for a week."

Marrin agrees with Ava, while walking stifflegged around Ned. She'll dry the other horses too, unless told not to, so they don't get too cold.

"Guessing we probably need to get out of sight of those riders? Probably too tempting just on the other side of the road."

As Jan sees Marrin drying the horses, she'll work to keep them from chilling too.

"A slow walk to ease them down might be in order... and get us a bit more distance from the riders..."

Soren does the same, getting down from his horse and leading it through the growing dark for another half an hour until you find a dried out creek bed, where the bank acts as a windbreak.

While the horses and ponies are exhausted, they all appear otherwise unharmed.

Wolfie, the dire wolf, lies down on top of the bank, resting his head on his front paws.

Dagg, his long legs letting him up with the horses and ponies, doesn't seem particularly bothered by how far and how quickly the group had to go. But that doesn't mean he's okay. The moment the group stops, Dagg moves quickly to get next to Ethel. The hill giant looms over her. When Ethel looks up at Dagg she sees he's in a similar state as when the group found him buried in the ground.

"Save Dagg. Make curse go away. Dagg not like being cursed," Dagg says without taking a breath. "Dagg not get go home if curse. Is Wolfie curse too?"

Soren looks up over the edge of the bank and watches to the south for a long time before turning, satisfied that they weren't followed.

"I think we can risk a fire," Soren says.

Hammerdasher looks at Dagg and just shakes his head. He leans over to Geffroi and says "I'd never hear the end of it if it got back home that I'd had any hand in helping a hill giant."

Ethel doesn't answer Dagg right away.  She’s still catching her breath from the long, tense ride, dismounting stiffly and tugging her cloak tighter around her shoulders.  

The giant is towering, anxious, and far too close. But there’s something pitiful in the way his words tumble over each other.  And his current anxiety is Ethel's own fault, after all.  Ethel exhales slowly through her nose.

“Dagg,” she says, voice calm but firm.  “Listen now.”

She reaches into the folds of her satchel and pulls out a smooth river stone, palm-sized to her but little more than a pebble to Dagg.  As the others busy themselves with camp, she crouches low to the ground—not because she needs to, but because she hopes it’ll help Dagg focus and add gravitas to her performance.

She presses a finger to the stone and mutters a short phrase under her breath.  With a faint pulse, the stone glows—soft, bright, and steady, like moonlight on snow.  Then she rises and holds it out to the hill giant.

“This is a Curse-Stone,” she says, giving the glow a presumed power it doesn't actually possess.  “You must hold it and look into it.  From now… until the light dies.  Do not set it down.  Do not drop it.”

She sets into Dagg's hand.

“You drop it, the curse comes back twice as strong,” Ethel continues, her tone as serious as a funeral. “But—if you keep hold of it… if you stay still and silent… the curse will drain into the stone.  When it goes dark, you’ll be clean.  You can toss the rock away and be done with the curse forever.  Or at least until you decide to eat another mysterious dead pony.”

Ethel turns without another word, moving to warm her hands by the newly kindled fire.  Under her breath, low enough only Marrin might hear, she mutters:  “If he drops it so help me I’ll curse him for real.”

And then, with a long sigh, she finally sits.

[The Light cantrip should expire after one hour.]

Avaria gets right to setting up camp, she's tired and wants to rest.  Soren's words about lighting a fire was music to her ears and she set her sights on that, doing it without magic, letting the kindling ignite as she drove one stick into a large branch and blew over it.  The method of it was clearing to her mind after the insane day they just had.  Once it got going, she didn't realize how cold she had become until the warmth seeped into her bones.

Finally she notices Dagg standing still staring at something glowing in his hands.  She shrugs and yawns.

Dagg stares at the glowing stone as if it’s the most precious magic he’s ever seen. Anyone watching Dagg during the hour the stone is lit notices that when he blinks, he only blinks with one eye at a time. Dagg doesn’t want to risk losing the stone.

”Shh, Wolfie. Stop whining. We get rid of curse now.”

Avaria gets a good fire going with some of the scrub and dried out moss covering the southern side of the dry creek bank.

Soren seems to relax a little, feeling confident they’re out of danger. Out of danger from the riders at least.

———————————————-

If everyone is content to camp here, a watch order is needed and perception checks from everyone, and any other discussions about the day you’d like to share with each other.

((Jan will keep watch for the first 4 hours, then trance. Perception: 13))

Avaria will take the last watch

Perception: 14