Evelyn shakes her head. "I haven't identified any good hiding places, I'm afraid," she says. "I did stumble across an old Drow ruin though, and I found some interesting things."

The wizard approaches Threla first and shows her the strange device she found. "I found this in the ruins. It could be magical, but I haven't attempted any spells on it yet. What do you think? I also found some glowing stones, a red gem, and this pouch of liquid."

The device is incredibly rusted and quite possibly irreparable, but Threlan recognizes it as a Mister, a device used by drow assassins to deliver poisons in a fast and discreet manner, though it can also be used to deliver potions. It can be used to deliver a ranged attack against a foe within 10 feet, and if it hits the poison is delivered if it is contact/inhaled. If it is an injury poison, it only takes effect if the foe already has an open wound. It can also just be used to deliver a potion to a willing target within 10 feet, replacing an attack. 

These are rare objects of skilled artifice, and are rarely in use these days, so this is not exactly a common find. It may not be reparable, but if you were able to find a skilled smith, you could use what you have to possibly replicate one.  

The stones are Flashstones, which are... more or less flashbangs. They are fragile, and when they break (commonly by throwing them against a point on the ground within 30 feet) they erupt in a flash of light, causing all creatures that use sight within a 15 foot radius to make Dexterity saves to avert their eyes in time, or else be blinded for 1 round and suffer disadvantage on all sight-based checks for an hour afterwards. Creatures with sunlight sensitivity have disadvantage on this save. 

Threlan finally recognizes the pouch as a potion bladder, made from the rubbery organs of a cloaker. It holds liquid and retains temperature incredibly well, as evidenced by its countless years without drying up, and the liquid inside can be easily identified by its noxious fumes as some sort of poison.

 The gem just kind of looks like a gem. It's likely just a non-magical, valuable gem, used semi-commonly in the place of more valuable coins in the Underdark.

"Say, we could replace some of the potions for more valuable goods, and we could stock these items *referring to the potion bladder & Mister* with potions of healing to potentially provides some emergency healing. We should also try to extract the poison from the Bladder, lest it mix with the potions." if allowed to, Threlan would take the potion bladder and find an empty vial to empty the poison into. She would store that and then clean the inside of the bladder. once the bladder is cleansed, she pours healing potion into both the mister and the bladder. 

"Who want to carry these? I can, since it seems my efforts are more suited to keeping you all alive rather than more martial or explosive pursuits. But f any of you would rather carry them, I'd be glad to let you have them."

OOC: Humbug, how does the potion bladder deliver a potion exactly? I know it holds the potion but how do you drink it?

     If none of the caravan people take over the last wagon - Ursi Chatragi's - then Nodjeim would take it upon himself to drive it.  He has no particular animal or vehicle handling skills though so is more than willing to allow someone else the task.  But as he perhaps spent the most time with her, for good or ill, he feels it would be his duty if nobody else wanted to.  (I am right, hers is one of the surviving wagons?)  

(The bladder is just like… a better waterskin essentially, with less space. Functions the same as a potion. I borrowed these items from an old Dragon Magazine issue, the bladder’s not super special. It’s essentially a high quality water bottle.)

(Ursi used they/them pronouns, and while the caravan belonged to Dondeir, they did pilot it.)

(will move things on soon)

Quote from TheHumbug >>

(Ursi used they/them pronouns, and while the caravan belonged to Dondeir, they did pilot it.)

(Apologies to Ursi for that... I will try my best but I am sure I will mess up on pronouns again.  Just know it's not done out of ill will but more my general sucking at names and such.  I really should make a chart or something but I also have terminal laziness.  But I shall try!) 

Marpenoth 4, 1489 DR

Another half a month passes without a hitch, as the caravan descends the Landrise, leaving its dead behind. Soon, it is nearly gone from view, and the Rathgaunt hills instead rise up from the south, great mounds of earth with dry scrub clinging to them like an old man's hair. Chakka bristles as you approach. "kkhh... Be aware. Things lurk in these hills. Ttt... gnolls and... other troubles." 

The note is passed around camp, and while none present recognize the writing, Chakka confirms that gnolls have no known written language. This is clearly something else. The nights pass, the moon high overhead, beginning to wane. It has just disappeared, and arises once more, a thin sliver, when someone is seen from far off. They are making no effort to hide as they stumble towards your encampment. Rolling for it since a watch wasn't set up... Olan and Thomir are on watch when they approach.

Though only a silhouette for a bit, as they enter the range of Olan's darkvision he can see that they are a woman, staggering and bandaged. She stays at the edge of his vision, coming no closer, and wave tiredly. Then, they collapse to the ground and do not move. 

Her appearance:

Seeing the figure collapse Olan waits for a moment to see if it rises again. When it does not he moves to Threla and quietly wakes them "We may have need of your healing. There is somebody in trouble on the road." He also asks Nodjeim to accompany them.

Threlan wakes, murmuring "Huh? Trouble? Not more doggie-men I hope." 

Gender roll: 2

     Nodjeim turns to look at Olan and then turns to look in the direction indicated.  The night is dark and the thin sliver of moon is not enough to reveal anything to his eyes.  Still, Nodjeim nods and climbs slowly to his feet and picks up his spear which he uses as a walking stick when not for it's intended purpose. Olan and Threla both will have much better vision than he does so Nodjeim allows them to lead the way, sticking close enough so as not to lose them even in the darkness.  

Threl stands and brushes himself off. he draws his rapier, just in case, and advances along with Olan. A faint glow illuminates the night, as glowing elvish letters scrawl across their other bare arm. If Olan notices, the letters are the words to a song, one about coming home from a long journey.

Threl's light illuminates the woman on the ground, and he can see that there is an arrow buried squarely in her leg. The blood is old and caked on, multiple days old at the very least. For a moment she looks dead, but as he gazes on, he sees her back rise ever so slightly up, and then down, as she inhales and exhales. She is alive, but barely. 

Threl kneels, and examines the arrow (medicine: 16. I'm trying to ascertain whether the arrow is barbed and if it will make it worse if I pull the arrow out)

     Nodjeim stands guard and watches for anyone pursuing or following the woman.  He's limited by the darkness (I honestly thought reborn got darkvision!  huh.) but does what he can.  "Bring her back with us?  Follow her tracks?" Nodjeim asks, wondering how involved they all want to get with this stranger.

Before they continued their journey to New Shaarmid, which Evelyn was happy enough for that to remain their destination, she placed the Flash Stones and the red gem in her pack. The potion bladder and "mister" she had given to Threlan. It made the most sense for them to hold onto it. Now the wizard slumbered in her bedroll, peacefully oblivious to the strange woman who had come stumbling into their camp.

As you inspect this woman, inches from death... Threl, make a Constitution saving throw.

OOC: oh s***

Con Save: 12

Threl:

The arrowhead can't be seen, since it's buried in this woman's leg. However, the shaft is the same as those recovered from the gnolls with those barbed arrows, the fletching the very same as well. This is a gnoll arrow. You wouldn't be able to tell, if you hadn't already spent an afternoon plucking them out of your allies, dead and alive. Threl knows he has the skill to remove it, but the woman has lost a lot of blood. She might not survive the process. If she did, Threl could probably patch her up, but the removal itself would not be pretty.

“May I help you?” Veldruk asked Nodjeim when the monk took seat on the third cart. He seemed slightly confused about where to start and was more than happy to let the warlock take the reins. His keen eyes absorbing the details of the process.

Contrary to the drow’s expectations, the travel after the ambush was calm. There was no infighting on the group, no blaming, no attempts of one to gather support and authority over the others or take the extra wealth. Merchants and guards alike seemed to genuinely feel the loss of the fallen. The way of the way of the World Above, he pondered failing to notice that he himself didn’t attempt to make extra gains either.

 The question of who would pay the coin Dondeir promised stayed on Veldruk’s mind but in the end he decided it better avoided. At least until they stood close enough to their destination that it would be relatively safe to reach the city even if the caravan disbanded. He stood ready to draw steel from the moment Chakka warned and was awakened when by Thormir as Evelyn, Threl and Nodjeim approached the distant shadow.

 (Is anyone going to make an attempt to heal or otherwise assist this woman?)