Tilia’s Field Notes: Over the Mountain

We spent some time repairing the defiled temple, cleaning the ziggurat and mending what had been broken before departing from the Necromancer’s Lair. One of the others found a strange inscription in dwarvish on the ziggurat, “Wherever there are elves, there are lies.” The elven-blooded among our party seemed irritated at this, but the entire complex was built by dwarves as a resting place for elves, and such things don’t always come about without coercion.

“Wherever there are elves, there are lies.”

As the afternoon wore on, we became concerned about the succubus returning, and so departed for the elven ruins where Travis was found, as we’d originally planned to do before the mummy’s curse interfered. Rather than staying in the forest and going around the small mountain chain, or passing back through The Glade and crossing two rivers on the other side, we decided to go over the mountains, saving ourselves several days of travel and untold complications.

Of course, going over instead of around entailed its own complications. We had lovely weather the first evening we were encamped, and Wynlynn and I foraged for supper. She took two kid goats with her bow, lovely creatures that I would have preferred to leave unmolested. But it is the natural order: some must die for others to live. I found some fine autumn fruits and berries, plus a few tubers to throw into the stew pot. To our surprise, Agenar had been carrying a small cauldron the entire time, which made goat stew an easy meal for most of the party. Happily, there was adequate forage for me to forego the stew.

Observations on the mountain while foraging:

• Six mountain goats, two kids (which Wynlynn skillfully dispatched) and four adults. Their coats were thickening against the impending winter season; we too shall soon have to equip ourselves against the cold.
• Typical small animals, including a Marmota species gathering grass for its winter larder.
• Late season stone fruits, just at the peak of ripeness.
• A nice patch of mountain cranberry, Vaccinium erythrocarpum, with the last handful of berries for the year.

All went smoothly overnight and as we made our way in the morning, until we reached height of land and crested the ridge. Val was leading the march but upon hearing some rustling sounds ahead, immediately wailed at the top of her healthy lungs, “NOOOO! Not the succubus!” (The fiend had flown off in a different direction entirely, but somehow about half our party seems completely unable to understand cardinal directions, and I currently trust only Wynlynn and Teal to reliably navigate without a map.)

What kind of fighter alerts potential assailants to her location with so little restraint?!? I was frankly aghast. I am no fighter, but going unnoticed is both a habit and a skill, so being made an obvious target makes me very nervous. Although come to think of it, Travis too seems to enjoy informing marauders of our location quite deliberately, as if completely oblivious to the potential dangers of these actions.

Of course, there were indeed adversaries ahead, and Val was promptly pierced by their arrows. She’s lucky that there are multiple spellcasters in our party who can heal her wounds, and it makes me wonder how she survived before joining our group. Despite Val’s finer qualities, which are slowly becoming more apparent, such senseless behavior reminds me of an overgrown child who must be carefully watched lest she toddle into mortal danger, dragging the rest of us behind her. A pretty face on an empty head isn’t to my taste, but apparently it works for Wynlynn. To each her own, as they say.

Had Val kept her foolish mouth shut, I could’ve cast a spell I just learned that would have allowed us all to pass by the orcs unnoticed. But no. There were six orcs, all wearing the same bloody handprint symbol we’ve seen elsewhere recently. Our group managed to slay them without too much trouble, though Agenar too was badly injured in the process; luckily, that was the end of the skirmish. We split a few gold we found on them, and Wynlynn replenished her supply of arrows from the orcs’ quivers. Upon glancing about the site, it seems that the orcs have been coming down from the north and scouting, perhaps in preparation for an invasion? The notion is worrisome, as it seems there is little our ragtag band might do to directly address the threat of an orc invasion.

Shortly thereafter, Teal located a fine campsite for the night and late the next morning, we descended into forest once again. There have been no further sightings of the giant avian creature that I saw on the other side of the mountain, and much to my frustration, I still can’t quite identify it.