Seeing the rounds that Esvele is making, she decides to join the cleric.  

Investigation 14

Weeding through the rumors and gossip was quite exhausting and so Aerin says her goodnights to her companions before finding her room.  Tomorrow... so much might happen.

Darastrag curls up like a large dog right in front of the fire, his longbow and quarterstaff, shield and pack leaned against the side of the hearth closest to his head. If anyone inquires, he says, "Much cold outside. This child of the Khecuala needs to soak up all the warmth before the morning when we hunt goblin."

"Goodnight, friend N'ruel. Goodnight, friend Aerin. If you remember having met another traveler of my people, please let me know."

"Back 'n ta fall there were a strange traveler who camped outside ta walls for a few nights. They kept ta themselves so no one bothered them much but some who wandered close to their camp say that it was a lizardman ur perhaps one of them dragonfolk. Whatever they were they could be heard coughin' in wheezin' if ya got close enough," Raster replies to Darastrag.

The night grows dark and Raster bids all of you a sincere thanks as you have agreed at least to go and investigate the Sunless Citadel on behalf of the people of Oakhurst. He says that he will meet you on the morrow with your silver before you head out and into the Whispering Wood.

After Raster's bundles back up in his thick fur coat and melds into the snowy darkness Esvele and Aerin make the rounds to the few remaining inside the Hollowing Hallows attempting to glean any further details about this mysterious citadel. Sweet music fills the air accompanied every so often by the wind howling through the eaves creating a haunting tune as the ladies hear tales that the citadel is haunted by evil spirits, that it was once a floating citadel that crashed down from the heavens, that it is home to the dark dwarves who sneak into villages at night to steal children and replace them with one of their own. The warlock and cleric get the feeling that most of what the townsfolk have heard is tall tales passed down through the generations, but that there might be some small sliver of truth in some of the stories. As the last of the villagers head home for the night a halfling man with thick red mutton chops gives the drow a nod as he flips the musician a copper crone.

Northern Kingdom of Aldenia
Late Hungerhope
Dawn

The bright morning sun glints blinding off of the pure white snow, as if the grounds where scattered with small pieces of glass and crystal. The Elderman stands, holding a large leather purse, waiting next to the gate that leads out towards the Whispering Wood. He is accompanied by a short round halfling woman, wearing a similar fur coat to that of the Elderman, who sips from a steaming mug of herbal tea. As the last shadows of the night fade away with the rising sun the bitter cold of the night gives way to a slight chill. A thin layer of hoarfrost slowly begins to melt off of the scraggly vegetation and the side of the wooden palisade wall. All along the the top of the wall that surrounds Oakhurst fires smolder out in large iron braziers, known as night fires, used to keep the creeping darkness at bay.

"Mornin'," greets the Elderman, his breath forming into a thin crystalline mist as he speaks. "This here be Marigold, she grows herbs 'n such on ta 'utter side of ta wall out near ta woods. She'll lead y'all to ta path that Jon 'n Benjen took when they was last seen. Pray ta gods watch over y'all granting ya wisdom 'n strength." With a shiver the Elderman hands over the leather purse to Esvele, pulls his coat tightly around himself as he heads back off through the village seeking a warm hearth.

Marigold the apothecary is short ,even for a halfling, with bright red rosy checks. Her dark golden brown hair is braided with small feathers and beads. She finishes her tea and places the small wooden mug back in her pack as she pulls out a folded piece of vellum, "Tis here map'll lead ya to ta ravine. It be easy to find ta ruins from there. It be 'bout seven mile hike through ta woods from here. Just be sure ya don't stray far from ta path okay. I was told to give'uns some supplies for ya left." She flips open her well worn satchel pulling out a smaller leather pouch, four corked glass bottles of a earthy green liquid, and some rations consisting of jerky, dried fruits and hard bread. "Tis here be for y'all," Marigold says as she hands out the supplies. "Those there concoctions taste like dirt but they heal any minor cut 'n ta like ya might get," she says gesturing towards the bottles of green fluid. "There be anythin' else y'all need doin' 'fore we set out?"

"Many thanks for the supplies, good apothecary. Say, you wouldn't happen to have seen the ravine, or the citadel itself, have you? It would be extremely helpful to us to any descriptions or landmarks familiar to you before we set out." Tovar says, happily storing rations in his capacious pack. 

"Seems as though we might have a fair bit of a walk before us, and it would be very helpful to know when we are drawing near to our goal. Besides that, it seems reasonable to expect us to return by tomorrow, or perhaps the day after at the latest. After all, I just couldn't do without more of that boiled cabbage from yesterday evening. When we return, I expect that we will be in need of a good warm meal, clean beds and rooms, and possibly some medical attention. It would do us a great honor if you or someone you trust with medical equipment would be available if needed shortly after our return, as a measure of safety. It's hard to say just what we will find out there, and any preparation we can make together will help us tremendously."

Tovar examines the supplies, mentally calculating how long they could last in the forest on the town's provisions. The answer is disappointingly short, but somewhat expected given the town's current state of tension and dismay. With that, Tovar checks his crossbow, fiddles with a bolt for a moment, and looks expectantly at the rest of party.

Survival: 22

No one knows when the lizardman ranger woke from his slumber in front of the hearth, but he is gone when the rest of the inn awakens.

When the group arrives at the gate, they find Darastrag standing near the edge of the path outside the town wall. He has a pack and a longbow slung on his back, and staff and shield on his left arm. In his right hand is an arrow, with a skinned rabbit skewered on it. He tears the flesh off the bone, then crunches the bones in his wide, strong jaws. A trickle of blood runs over his scaly chin as he devours his meal for the day.

"Are we ready? Your scout is here."

- Esvele - 

With a bright smile, Esvele walks up to Tovar but turns her face to the locals saying, "Many thanks Marigold and Raster." She then takes the healer's kit from Tovar's grasp, as well as three of the four healing potions. Esvele keeps the kit for herself and redistributes one potion of healing each to Aerin, Darastrag and N'ruel.

Esvele whistles and from a perch along the town's wall her osprey (hawk) familiar, Gwaihir, flies down to her waiting arm.  She says, "Okay, boy - time to play lookout." The bird nuzzles Esvele's neck before launching up from her arm, circling gently about seventy feet above the group.

"Well," Esvele begins, "we're ready to go."  After a pause, "Actually, I don't suppose you remembered the bit about arrows and crossbow bolts, eh? I only have twenty bolts on me - I'm not sure what everyone else has on them."

---

Once they're off and Marigold and Raster are either out of view or back behind the town walls, Esvele distributes 50 shields (sp) to each of the party members, saying, "Not that I expect us to spend it anytime soon, but I'd rather we just split it up now before I forget about it."

 As Esvele and the party go forward, Gwaihir flies above keeping watch, emoting to Esvele if he notices something troubling or off.  On occasion, and if someone helps guide her walking, will telepathically connect to Gwaihir to see through his eyes and hear through his ears. 

// Perception check for Gwaihir: 23 //

Taking the offered potion, Aerin tucks it safely away.  Chafing her hands to keep them warm, she remembers the crossbow and bolts tied to her pack.  With her magic, it was unlikely she would use the bolts.  It made more sense for Esvele or one of the others to make better use of them.

"If anyone would like them, perhaps you Esvele, I have 20 bolts.  Or they could be shared amongst us.  With my magic, my need for a ranged attack is lessened.  Also, perhaps Darastag can take the lead and check for any suspicious tracks as he goes?" Aerin suggested.  "We'd best keep an eye out for traps with goblins about.  If we find something, I can give disarming it a try."

N'ruel snatches the copper piece out of the air. He looks at it for a moment, and back to the halfling finally just giving him a nod of thanks. The drow leaves the coin on a table as he gets up to return to his room for the night.

As the group is gathered acquiring their last minute supplies and advise, N'ruel pulls his cowl up over his head to shield his eyes from the bright sun. All this light has the drow a little irritated, as he lightly scoffs as Tovar asks for further directions, immediately after having received a map to the ravine.

He takes the potion and coin from Esvele and stuff them in his pack. Anxious to get their journey underway, he then makes his way out the gate, removing his quarterstaff off his back. "Ready," he says flatly to the lizardman.

Darastrag studies the map for a couple minutes, then hands it back to Esvele for safekeeping. "Seven miles? We should make it there before the sun is high." Trusting his senses to warn of danger, he hangs his shield and staff on his back and moves out with longbow in hand.

"Ta map'll show y'all ta way to ta ravine. It be hard to miss bein' a big ole whole in ta ground in all. Y'all will know when ya see ta citadel itself down inta bottom of that whole. Looks like the earth itself opened up 'n tried to swaller it but it got stuck goin' down," Marigold says with a laugh as she slings her pack over her shoulder. "I just be ta herbalist I don't have no extra arrows 'n such to spare but I'll be 'round should y'all return needin' any aid. I'll do for ya what I can." Sticking her thumb and pointer finger in her mouth she lets out a shrill whistle. Moments later a large brown dog (Mastiff) comes bounding through the deep drifts of snow, a leather saddle strapped to it's back. The halfling mounts up on the great canine and makes her way  past two villagers, wearing heavy fur coats over leather armor and brandishing iron tipped spears, guarding the gate. Small icy crystals are starting to melt from the village guards thick bushy beards. With a loud groaning creak the gate is closes firmly as Marigold leads you all into the wilds.

You all travel along a well worn snow covered trail cutting through the Whispering Wood. The trees loom overhead like giant black sentinels guarding the forests ancient secrets, their leafless limbs crisscrossing above like a spider web silhouetted against the bright rising sun. The bases of most of the trees are hidden behind drifts of snow higher than most men, results of the fierce storm winds from the night before. The forest is eerily quiet except for the panting of the apothecary's mastiff.

After walking for what seems like forever a small clearing ahead can be glimpsed amidst the trees. Marigold points towards the clearing and motions for the party to follow. The path leads up to the base of a giant oak tree before splitting twisting off in different directions deeper into the forest. A figure has been carved into the tree itself, though its features have worn away over time. A small altar, carved into the base of the shrine to protect it from the elements  is littered with melted tallow candles, dried herbs and flowers. The halfling dismounts, kneels while lighting on of the candles and whispers a quick prayer to herself. Standing and turning towards the party, "I lead Benjen 'n Jon here 'n watched'em head that way deeper inta ta wood. I was ta last one to see'em. May Moder watch over y'all 'n keep y'all safe against her bosom," she says motioning towards the path to the right. With that she mounts back up heads back down the trail towards Oakhurst.

Survival: 12

DM: Is the path Marigold indicated Jon and Benjen took the same that leads to the ravine?

As the halfling disappears on the path towards Oakhurst, N'ruel moves over to Darastag. "Press on. This sunlight...," he trails off and joins the lizardman in scouting the path ahead. 

Survival (rolling again for Advantage): 6

Quote from jr_el_leon >>

- Esvele - 

 As Esvele and the party go forward, Gwaihir flies above keeping watch, emoting to Esvele if he notices something troubling or off.  On occasion, and if someone helps guide her walking, will telepathically connect to Gwaihir to see through his eyes and hear through his ears. 

// Perception check for Gwaihir: 23 //

Darastrag unaccustomed to snowy terrain and N'Ruel hampered by the blinding white sun slowly lead the others along the twisting and turning poor excuse for a path through the Whispering Wood. Sometimes pushing through nearly waist high drifts of snow and narrowly dodging falling icicle like daggers the journey is not for the faint of heart. An hour, maybe two have past. Your feet are heavy and cold and the bright light of the sun reflecting off the white snow is becoming disorienting. Esvele, gazing through the eyes of her feathered friend, assures you that you are on the right path for on the horizon she can the ravine, like a jagged scar cutting across the landscape.

Trudging ever deeper the trees grow more gnarled and bent, the black limbs and branches intertwining to form contorted and horrid faces. The wind swirls the snow about as it carries unsettling hissing whispers to your ears. You each hear only the words that were meant for you...

"...your god will abandon you in your time of need leaving to you drown in the blood of your companions..."

"...the lurker is nearing the threshold and when it reaches out madness will consume your mind..."

"...the sun shall grow huge in the sky like a great red flaming eye burning away all shadows and peeling the flesh from your bones..."

"...food and drink shall turn to rot and vinegar in the mouths of your family and you shall bear witness as their bodies wither away to dust..."

 "...those whom you seek shall forever be doomed to wander through the Void for all eternity..."

As the words fade from existence you quickly turn to see who uttered such things but no one is near, the only sound is the footsteps of your traveling companions as they crunch through the snow. You come to find yourselves in a tangle of dense dead shrubs and vines. Suddenly there is a SNAPPING sound as if a twig was broken in half and multiple small dark twisted forms dart out at you...

Initiative 14

N'ruel sneers as the voice from an unseen source penetrates his mind, and brings his staff up in a defensive posture. As he glances about looking for where it may be coming from, he doesn't notice the two figures jumping out from...who knows where!?

Aerin's body seemed to flush and chill as the words whispered their poison in her ears.  Swallowing hard she did her best to calm the wild beating of her pulse.  Just as she managed to gain some semblance of calm, two strange beings jump towards them.

Initiative 8

Still shaken from the words, Aerin fumbled not knowing if she should call for icy protection or blast the creatures.

Darastrag roars in anger, trying to drive away the voices. He snaps his jaws and flails his tail in the snow. The sound of the snapping twigs barely registers over the haunting and horrifying words!

Initiative: 20

- Esvele - 

"I'm no stranger to the weird and dark woods - now, get out of my head or I will bring you the storm!" Esvele hisses through gritted teeth.

// Esvele Initiative 19  //

Esvele lets go a loud rising whistle. It's answered by the screech of a hawk!

// Gwaihir Initiative 6  //

Initiative: 15

Tovar, unprepared for the sudden onslaught and somewhat distracted by the whispering voices, releases a large bellow towards the woods. He nimbly flicks his shield into a set position on his arm even as the attacks begin.