Athletics to resist the disarm attempt: 18

Assuming Dracors attempt to persuade Preston fails, he would then help Wulcrath as he attempts to restrain the man. "Calm down Preston! Everything is going to be fine..." He says through gritted teeth as he attempts to grab and hold on to his limbs. 

The huge dragonborn manages to take a firm hold on Preston's arm before the paladin can react properly. After a few swift movements and with Dracor's help, Preston soon finds himself lying on the forest floor, the ground cold under his cheek, Wulcrath's heavy weight pressing him down, while Dracor stands nearby helping. Whether it is from the coolness of the earth around him, the words of comfort offered by the golden dragonborn or just the whole interaction getting diffused, but the headache, the voices, the shivers gradually disappear and in a few moments Preston can feel his mind being his own again. 

As his vision begins to clear and his mind returns to him, Preston realizes what he’s done and the position he’s in now. Both dragonborns are pinning him to the ground, preventing him from moving.

"Hrgh…Dracor, Wulcrath…let me…go. It’s me…the voices…they’re gone.", he struggles to say as his face his planted in the dirt.

Wulcrath's eyes narrow down at Preston as his knee digs mercilessly into the human's back, the big Dragonborn's irritation and fear evident as a grumble rumbles up from his chest, his emotion running high with the sudden stressful moment. With an added sigh after a few seconds of internal decision making, he lets go of the Paladin's arm, throwing it away with and scowl and a scoff. "Whatever kind of joke that was, it wasn't funny."

He tosses the human's sword a bit away, his point hopefully made before he steps off him. "Get a hold of yourselves." He lets out a heavy sigh as he steps away, pinching the bridge of his snout as he taps his foot in slight distress. The Dragonborn has to look away to stop himself from saying more, staring off into the darkness of the wood ahead. A hand now firmly on the hilt of his blade in it's scabbard.

The paladin stands up and dusts off the dirt from his armor. He looks down the whole time in shame. He let down and endangered his companions because he let whatever evil is haunting this forest get a hold of his mind. He'd need to do better in the future.

He goes to pick up his sword and resheats it. "I'm sorry about this. I didn't know what was happening until it was too late. I would never harm any one of you willingly. I hope you all know that.", Preston says.

"it's alright Preston... With two dragonborn here to protect the others from your outburst... the chances of you hurting anyone are pretty slim. Noble dragonborn like ourselves are trained to face anything... our physical and mental toughness is unmatched!" Dracor says as he points towards his own head and taps the golden scales there. He then prepares to keep walking deeper into the forest.

Ella brushes imaginary dust off her armor. "We've got to stay on our guard," she says. "If this place can turn us against each other, we may not be able to rely on anything but ourselves."

With the situation diffused successfully, you continue deeper into the forest. The path you are following gradually grows larger and soon you start to notice different types of prints. Looking ahead, it seems the path is leading to a clearing into the forest. 

Let me know what order you have taken in walking, the path is large enough to fit two persons shoulder to shoulder at this part of the forest. 

Dracor would push ahead, trying his best but unsuccessfully hiding his fear...

ooc: he would be in the front row.

Preston would be hanging back. He’s still feeling somewhat shameful for his actions.

Wulcrath trails just behind Dracor, silver eyes now darkly set straight ahead. He scans his surroundings passively as he walks, a claw still wrapped tightly around the sword at his belt's hilt. He's glad he didn't have to cut Preston down... but what had happened and why? Was he next? Doubts among others starting to fog his mind already. Frankly, he's found himself in a dour mood.

He's confused and scared, and things don't look like they'll be getting much better at the moment. Old Hal better be worth the extra coin... He snags on a branch as he walks, and an annoyed grumble rises out of him as he bats it away.

Ella is walking next to Dracor, eyes darting around. Whatever just happened to Preston, she doubts it was an isolated incident, and she'd rather get this done before they all kill each other.

With Preston walking behind the group and Wulcrath momentarily distracted by the branches trying to tear at his clothes, Dracor and Ella are the closest to the clearing when loud sounds of deep growls and grunts reach the group.

Everybody roll perception or proceed at your own risk :) 

Perception: 12

Perception : 17

perception 9

Perception: 2

Dracor seems a bit distracted and doesn't notice anything at first. The other dragonborn notices a patch of brown hide hanging from the lower branches of the brush around him. Wulcrath's experience in the wild also helps him distinguish the prints on the ground as wild boar's, and judging by the difference in sizes, he can deduce there have been a few of the animals to pass very recently.

From her position, Ella notices a brown spot moving around in the bushes in the clearing from the direction of the grunting.

Preston also recognises the prints as boar's but he isn't too sure how many animals there could be around or how soon they have passed this spot. 

"Eyes forward." The Dragonborn says simply, his voice low as he points to patch of hide left behind on the low branch. "Boars about." Wulcrath draws his sword as he pushes ahead to the front, just incase they meet any of the beasts, he wants to be the first seeing as how if nothing else, he might have the most chance at surviving a goring should one surprise the group. Despite his newfound mood, he can't find it in himself to do much other than be cross.

For now at least.