Morning comes with a blanket of fog. Ralith prays to Risha to receive her blessing and her magic. He is able to finish administering healing to the group. After a good meal and night’s rest, we are all brought back to full health. My salve had done quite a nice job soothing the infection on my cuts, but I am not about to decline healing magic and, thereby, avoid the scars.
In the light of dawn, after making ready for the day, Vong sets back to work trying to locate the trail he was certain he had found the evening prior. There are a lot of “hmm”’s, tongue clicking, and sighing.
While waiting, I take a vial from my pack and fill up a sample of the poisoned well water. One never knows when some potent poison will come in handy.
Finally he admits defeat, “I can’t pick up the trail. Anyone got any ideas?”
Sure, plenty. For example, a systematic sweep of the area. Trying to pick up the trail from where we fought. Scouting for nearby structures and searching those. I keep my ideas to myself. I don’t need to give him any ammunition he can sell to Level as a win.
“We can just move on and hope we pick it up somewhere else?” Ralith says questioningly. He seems more anxious today. Perhaps the harshness of life outside the Glen is wearing on him.
Good.
Pil and Rakatha have nothing to offer, and Twitch seems too preoccupied to have heard.
I wait and see what the group decides.
“Okay, let’s find a hill and try to scan the area from up there,” Vong decides, and the group heads out.
While there are plenty of rolling foothills to the north of Buknar Valley, these prime farmlands prefer more level ground. The Endolkin area is particularly planar and we walk all day without finding much of a rise. The trees further complicate the view.
Camp is pitched and the night is uneventful.
I wake to a cool morning, heavy with dew. The temperature has dropped overnight and the promise of an early winter seems to be given. The harvest season is still a few weeks away. If autumn is quite short and the Hordes are trying to disrupt food supply, together those two things could compound to spell disaster. For the Elysians anyway.
I do my morning routine and meditate. I am easily able to ignore the awkward lesson Rakatha gives to Pil and the rowdy chatter between Vong and Twitch. Ralith quietly prays to Risha a little way away from the campsite.
Rather than begin a systematic sweep of the area, Vong keeps searching for hills. The morning hike puts us in sight of a small escarpment and Vong is elated, as though his plan is working.
After a modest luncheon, we continue toward the escarpment. Is it even in our sector? Probably not.
Not more than an hour later, a deer dashes out from the treeline and straight at us. The group scatters so as not to be run over. Well, most of us do. Rakatha squares himself to the charging buck and plants his feet. Luckily for him, the deer is not mad, just afraid. It sweeps past him, but knocks Twitch over as it passes.
“Hahahaha! Did you see that?” Vong laughs freely and easily, gazing after the retreating deer like he’s just seen off a good friend.
Twitch yowls awkwardly, having stepped in a hole probably created by a mole or rabbit. Apul rushes over to help her and, between the two of them, manage to both end up on the ground.
I turn away from the comedy of errors and look to where the deer emerged from. Something had to have frightened it.
We are currently in field in between two swaths of forest. The escarpment is still a couple hours off. Perhaps more if the forest before us has tough terrain.
I scan the treeline and don’t see anything worrisome. I send my mind to my owl, who is sleeping some miles back. I am unable to rouse it. So much for that idea.
Behind me, the group has unraveled Twitch’s gangling limbs from Apul and set them both upright once more.
Something seems off.
Vong runs past me, to take up position at the front of the group, and starts heading for the forest.
It probably behooves me to say something. “Be wary. Something scared that deer.”
He turns back and smiles at me so wide his eyes close. He also produces a thumbs up and says, “Thanks, Zer!”
“Zer Khaldun,” I correct, but he doesn’t seem to notice.