No matter how you put it, they all needed the old man to give them information on what was happening. He could just as well be the only living thing in the entire village. To dismiss him was dismissing the curious nature that made them adventurers.

In the firm grip of Marius fists, the old man tensed, and his eyes widened even further. The holy symbol of the God of Knowledge was lowered as the man’s arms went limp in submission. He sighed.

“Take me as well then.”
His eyes went up towards the ceiling. “Jusarin hold a phrase for me amongst your noble words.”

He let his chin fall to his chest and started muttering quiet prayers to his diety.

“My apologies for my companions rude behavior learned sir, but one can never be too cautious when dealing with the unknown,”
At Arvin’s words, the old man regained some of his composure and looked around at each of them. Blinking, his gaze went fierce again, as if his strength had been lost, and was now returning to him.

“You come here in the guise of Braths and Syls and mortal Men, but I read your game, oh darkling. Yet, I will play by your rules, until you tire of me. And you will deal with me then, knowing I have seen through this façade all along. How heavily bitter your victory will near a defeat.”

He made a sign with his hands, mimicking a book being opened, and defiantly glared at them.

“For long, and you know this, this town has been plagued by a series of disappearances. Young boys, all of them, taken from our midst to entertain the likes of YOU! Yes! I know what you did with them. You didn’t think I’d figure it out then… but I did. And one day they found her. They had no proof, but the evidence was clear enough to satisfy the mayor.”

He struggled to get loose from Marius’ grip, but gave up.

“At midday they stacked the wood, and when the sun had gone beyond the rooftops she was dragged across the town square. I know it wasn’t her. I knew it back then, seeing your hand that tricked her into suspicion. I knew it and wrote the mayor when he wouldn’t see me. He had always listened to me, but listened no longer. You deafened him, flaming his anger higher and higher. And his flames rose to the wood beneath her feet.”

The old man paused and suddenly gripped Marius by the collar with a strength equalling the witch hunter, dragging him closer to his face.

“And when the flames reached her she cursed this town. She cursed them all, face by face, for their injustice. She cast them into smoke as she herself was wrapped in it. It is irony how you came when she demanded it, while it was you who had cornered her to begin with. It is irony, and with irony I curse you equally, with your bodies made of ash and your eyes produced from flame. May Jusarin…”

He said no more. The stream of words just stopped there and then, and he blankly stared into nothingness as if the group of adventurers just wasn’t there anymore. His wrinkled fist released Marius’ collar and he stared at his palm in wonder.

Slowly, the witch hunter became aware of the fact that the man’s cloth was starting to feel spongy. The rest of the group noted how the thin frame of the senior cleric became white. After a few moments they could see the bookshelves behind him right through his body. Within a matter of seconds he had turned to mist and evaporated before their very eyes. The last thing they saw of him was a content smile and his gaze once more turning towards the heavens.

There was nothing left for them to do then to return outside. It was clear at once that darkness had fallen. The light of the burning pile of wood was no longer visible, and even the crackling of the flames had gone silent. Lighting a torch they realized that the fog was so thick they could not even see their own feet.

Carefully, they tried to retrieve the way to their wagon. Perhaps the best thing to do right now was waiting until the mist had subsided before investigating any further. This proved more difficult than they had anticipated. Somehow their orientation seemed off. After fifteen minutes they should’ve crossed the town square and found their horses waiting for them. They found nothing.

Trying instead to enter a building to use as shelter proved equally impossible. The street just seemed to go on forever. It was as if no more buildings existed and the town was nothing but cobbled ground.

And then even that faded, when suddenly they felt soft grass underfoot. Backing up a few steps they found that the cobblestones had gone. In the distance, crickets chirped quietly and a few moments later an owl hoo’d. Slowly, the mist seemed to grow more corporeal, but it was just the moon appearing from behind thick clouds, somewhere far above them.
They seemed abandoned by the world around them.

(OOC: I need some kind of input before I continue. There is nothing much to see, expect that the ground you’re standing on looks like forest ground. And you have seen no forest surrounding the town when you approached it in your cart.)

Chale was stareing wide eyed at where the priest once stood, even after all these years there are still surprises. "By the gods" said Chale in surprise "He just turned into mist." Chale shuddered 'to think that the mist weve been walking through may have been the people of this town' he thought.
________
the got lost and somehow ended up in a forest "what the...." said Chale "shouldnt be nothing but sheep for miles 'round here, never saw anything of a forest on our way over". then with a frown "we may turn to mist ourselves if we dont get out of here soon".

(Ooc: had to rewrite this one a few times cuz i get dyslexic when im tired )

It wasn't the first time someone he was interrogating was completely mad, delusional. And Marius feared it wouldn't be the last either. But the old man's words, though making little sense, intrigued the witch hunter very much. He let the clerk carry on his rant without saying a word, just as he hadn't said or reacted in anyway to Anna's threatening voice. They might have different ways of handling problems, but the templar knew the woman was not foolish enough to attack him over this madman.

The old man went on about how Marius and his companions were some evil beings from the mists who came around every now and then to take away people, young boys even, from the village. Apparently he'd lost all connection with the real world as he claimed a witch hunter carrying the holy symbol of Rydor around his neck to be some sort of a demon. But still Marius let him carry on.

Putting on a slight struggle in vain, the man went slack again and continued with a tired and somewhat sad voice about the one burning at the stake. A scapegoat it seemed. Someone had been picked up to calm down the villagers and the mayor had decided to make a terrible sacrifice probably hoping himself it would somehow stop the disappearing of kids from the town. Shaking his head slightly Marius wished he could get his hands on the mayor. It happened so often in situations like this. Scared people wanted desperately to find someone to blame, so desperately that they didn't bother to make sure the one they caught really was guilty.

Suddenly the eyes lit up again on the face of the Jusarin's follower. His hand shot up faster than Marius would've imagined possible and grabbed the witch hunter's collar with surprising strength. The templar didn't even flinch as he was pulled closer, but stared right at the gleaming mad eyes.
“And when the flames reached her she cursed this town. She cursed them all, face by face, for their injustice. She cast them into smoke as she herself was wrapped in it. It is irony how you came when she demanded it, while it was you who had cornered her to begin with. It is irony, and with irony I curse you equally, with your bodies made of ash and your eyes produced from flame. May Jusarin…”

The cleric's words were cut off mid sentence. That in itself wasn't much of a surprise. It happened quite often with possessed or otherwise delusional people. Even the blindly staring eyes fit the picture perfectly well. In Marius's experience two things usually happened. Either the rant began again after a short while - and often it really started again from the very beginning repeating everything word to word - or the person blacked out. What happened this time though, took even the hardy warrior completely by surprise…

Little by little the man seemed to turn into mist. No matter how hard Marius tried to squeeze his fingers around the cloth of the robe he couldn't hold on to the cleric. In a few heartbeats the old man was gone and in his fist was only thin air. The witch hunter turned his head to look at his companions and received a few shrugs and head shakes as an answer to his silent question. No one had any idea what had happened. Shrugging himself, Marius turned towards the doorway. "Well I guess we might as well head back outside to see if there's anyone else left."

But in the dark and misty evening it would be senseless to go looking for anyone. It was a common decision to return to the wagon and the horses and head to the inn for the night. But something was terribly wrong. They walked for way longer than they should've to reach the horses and found nothing. Not even the houses surrounding the square. And none of the mounts responded to whistles and shouts either. All they could really see was the cobble stones of the street going forward. Drawing his sword Marius took the point and walked on warily until his heavy boots met grass instead of the street. And behind them, the cobblestones had disappeared too.

Slowly the witch hunter turned to face his companions looking them each one by one in the eye. "Anyone have any idea what happened? Do you have some divination magics available to tell us where we are? The crazy old man spoke of the mists or some people from the mists abducting their kids. Have the mists now taken us as well?"

Ark listened to the old man's rant with terse attention. It certainly painted a picture, that was certain. But what it meant in terms of what they were up against, and weather it could be trusted as accurate portrayal of what actually happened was up for grabs. Ark wasn't an expert on those sorts of things. He knew how to pick a lock. He could disarm a myriad lethal devices, from the most intricate systems to the classic Alchemist's Fire with a Tripwire on the Cork. But crazy ranting men, fire that gave no smoke, and disappearing villages? Not the young half-breed's forte.

Especially not when his surroundings melted away into emerald forests. The transition startled the cat-thief into drawing his blade. "I'm going to have to second that movement," he said, eyes panning about to survey their sudden change of surroundings. "Can't figure outwhere we're going till we know where we are, right?"

The point of his sword down, but his hand firm around Raz's hilt, Ark finds Anna and moves carefully towards her. "Hey," he murmurs quietly. Ark thought it unwise to take his usual boisterous tone in the middle of unfamiliar territory. His fighting intuition was still wondering where the ambush was. "How're you holding up?"

Mylos smiled gently to the old man, hoping to make him believe that he was an innocent new friend. Before Mylos could read a facial expression from the old librarian Marius began to move from behind him. He charged the librarian and grabbed him speaking loudly at him.

Marius was surprised by his gruffness, but not overwhelmingly shocked. Marius had always been a loose cannon, a shoot first ask questions later sort of man. The others reacted poorly to his actions, showing an apparent separation within the group to a potential enemy and Mylos frowned at that but carried on to look as stern as he could at the old man before him. (Which was not very sternly at all)

The old man began to speak, blabbering once again about demons and darklings disguised as mortals, and the party opposite being sent to the town by some unknown evil. His ranting began to become a little abstract for Mylos' liking after that, talk of young boys and burning woman distressed him. Losing interest in the old cleric he almost fell into a daydream, when suddenly he grabbed Marius' collar drawing him closer with an unnatural strength.

Mylos was on his guard now and drew his weapons, looking around cautiously. He saw nothing, yet it did little to subdue the fear building inside of him, his stomach was becoming a knot, his heart began to race faster and his palms began sweating. If adventuring doesn't kill me, my heart definitely will he thought to himself.

The old man began to ramble some more and Mylos began to relax, though he still looked around warily. The librarian cut off mid sentence and Mylos was glad the nonsense he was talking stopped. The old man seemed to sag in Marius' grasp and the elders hand slipped from the witch hunters collar. Mylos sighed in relief and began to sheathe his weapons before reconsidering, he felt a fool the only one with weapons drawn but they made him feel more at ease.

Mylos' eyes focused on the old man a look of pity within them, he was clearly insane and physically exhausted. His look of pity soon changed to bewilderment. His jaw dropped open as he saw the old man disappear before his eyes evaporating into what appeared to be mist, not dissimilar to the fog outside in the town square. No-one spoke, even Mylos himself was tongue tied at the event that just occurred.

Leaving the library in a hurry the group began to seek out their wagon and horses and Mylos intended to leave this sorry town before he became a weather front as well. The fog made it impossible for the party to discern any direction and soon it was apparent they were lost. They walked through the mist some more and soon the rolling hills and small town were gone and a forest was all that remained.

Mylos spoke up after Marius said "Anyone have any idea what happened? Do you have some divination magics available to tell us where we are? The crazy old man spoke of the mists or some people from the mists abducting their kids. Have the mists now taken us as well?"

“I can find North if that's any help? Though the rest I am as clueless as you, friend.” Mylos tried to stay positive though he was a nervous wreck inside, could the mist really take them too?

(OOC: Discern North!)

The old man calmed at Arvin’s words. At least one of us could get him to go on she thought, satisfied until he continued.

“You come here in the guise of Braths and Syls and mortal Men, but I read your game, oh darkling. Yet, I will play by your rules, until you tire of me. And you will deal with me then, knowing I have seen through this façade all along. How heavily bitter your victory will near a defeat.”

There he goes with that demon thing again, Anna thought, frowning as she watched the old man folded open his hands like he held a book. His speech vaguely reminded her of the evangelists that preached their word in the market square in Bayris. It was always hellfire and brimstone, and most of the locals laughed at them. A few were occasionally roughed up, but it seemed to incite them rather than stop them; some reaching the point of foaming fury.

The old man’s last few words reminded Anna of those times. His eyes showed a depth of insanity as he grabbed hold of Marius’s collar.

“And when the flames reached her she cursed this town. She cursed them all, face by face, for their injustice. She cast them into smoke as she herself was wrapped in it. It is irony how you came when she demanded it, while it was you who had cornered her to begin with. It is irony, and with irony I curse you equally, with your bodies made of ash and your eyes produced from flame. May Jusarin…” he stopped suddenly with his final oath and stared at something they all couldn’t see. His body was sheathed in white, and he slowly evaporated out of existence. The last thing Anna saw was the contented smile upon his face.

Creepy.
They all stood in dead silence. Was this what happened to the village?
"By the gods" Chale exclaimed, "He just turned into mist."

Marius seemed unruffled. Anna marveled in the way that he took the incident in stride as he said, "Well I guess we might as well head back outside to see if there's anyone else left."

The fog was so thick that the fire wasn’t visible any longer. Anna instinctively grabbed Ark’s shirt so she wouldn’t get lost. The mist clung to their skin, and she shivered again at the unnatural feeling it left. They all moved towards the wagon in the square, and the first thing she was going to do was grab her cloak. In addition to the abnormal sensation it gave off, the fog was beginning to chill Anna.

Silence pressed in on the group. Enough time had passed that they should have made it back to their mounts. There was neither the soft noise of the fire crackling, nor any looming sign of the wagon in the mist.

“Wynn?” she called out, listening for any whickering from the horses. Anna stuck two of her fingers into her mouth and let out a shrill whistle. Again, there was nothing. She gripped Ark’s shirt tighter as they continued to walk. Anna was vaguely aware that they should have run into a building or some structure, but there was nothing.

“Where in the blazes are we?”

Cobblestone gradually gave way to the soft feel of grass. Sound seemed to slowly return, and they heard the sounds of crickets. An owl hooted. As the mist began to roll back, it revealed a scene much different than the one they had just left. For starters, the moon was out, indicating that they had been walking for hours on end. Was it really that long? It felt like it was a forest, but the fog hadn’t subsided enough to tell. She let go of Ark’s shirt as he drew his blade.

Marius turned to the group, looking each one full in the face, “Anyone have any idea what happened? Do you have some divination magics available to tell us where we are? The crazy old man spoke of the mists or some people from the mists abducting their kids. Have the mists now taken us as well?"

“Time certainly has seemed to play mary-hob on us, Marius,” Anna said, indicating the moon high above them. The corner of her mouth twitched as she continued, “Aside from that, I haven’t the foggiest idea.”

Mylos’s voice was light as he said, “I can find North if that's any help? Though the rest I am as clueless as you, friend.”

Ark drew a bit nearer to her, and murmured, "Hey, how're you holding up?"

“Considering we just got kidnapped by mist, pretty well,” she replied, keeping her voice low as she moved even closer to Ark, “I’m pretty annoyed that both my cloak and my bedroll are still on the wagon. That, and Wynn is out in the middle of some potentially demon infested town.”

She sighed heavily, “What I wouldn’t do for a drink right about now.”

The mage watched as the old man regained some of his composure and looked around at each of them. Then librarian blinked and his gaze went fierce again, as if his strength had been lost, and was now returning to him.

“You come here in the guise of Braths and Syls and mortal Men, but I read your game, oh darkling. Yet, I will play by your rules, until you tire of me. And you will deal with me then, knowing I have seen through this façade all along. How heavily bitter your victory will near a defeat.”

He made a sign with his hands, mimicking a book being opened, and defiantly glared at the party.

“For long, and you know this, this town has been plagued by a series of disappearances. Young boys, all of them, taken from our midst to entertain the likes of YOU! Yes! I know what you did with them. You didn’t think I’d figure it out then… but I did. And one day they found her. They had no proof, but the evidence was clear enough to satisfy the mayor.”

The old man then struggled to get loose from Marius’ grip, but failing he gave up.

“At midday they stacked the wood, and when the sun had gone beyond the rooftops she was dragged across the town square. I know it wasn’t her. I knew it back then, seeing your hand that tricked her into suspicion. I knew it and wrote the mayor when he wouldn’t see me. He had always listened to me, but listened no longer. You deafened him, flaming his anger higher and higher. And his flames rose to the wood beneath her feet.”

The old man paused and suddenly gripped Marius by the collar with a strength that startled the mage, and drug the templar so the two men were face-to-face.

“And when the flames reached her she cursed this town. She cursed them all, face by face, for their injustice. She cast them into smoke as she herself was wrapped in it. It is irony how you came when she demanded it, while it was you who had cornered her to begin with. It is irony, and with irony I curse you equally, with your bodies made of ash and your eyes produced from flame. May Jusarin…”

The old man broke off in the middle of his statement, and he blankly stared into nothingness as if the group of adventurers just wasn’t there anymore. His wrinkled fist released Marius’ collar and he stared at his palm in wonder.

Arvin watched with rising suspicion as the old man’s form seemed to grow less and less substantial. He could clearly see the bookshelves behind the cleric right through his body. Within seconds the cleric had turned to mist and evaporated before their very eyes. The last expression the mage saw on the old man’s face was a content smile and his gaze once more turning towards the heavens.

((OoC: Spellcraft check please.))
"By the gods" said Chale in surprise "He just turned into mist."

Arvin met Marius’s questioning look with a slight shrug of the shoulders and responded to the unspoken question, “I’m not sure how he managed it.”

The mage watched as the other members of the party all responded to Marius’s silent question. It seemed that no one else had any clue either. Marius shrugged and turned towards the doorway. "Well I guess we might as well head back outside to see if there's anyone else left."

“I’m right behind you guys.” The mage spoke calmly. Exiting the building the mage was startled to find that night had fallen. The mists and darkness were so absolute that neither the light of the bonfire was visible, nor could he hear the ever present crackling of the flames. The conditions outside of the building made it impossible to search for other possible survivors and the group agreed to leave the village proper and return to their wagon and horses.

As the party attempted to traverse the village and return to their mounts, it seemed to the mage that there was something amiss. ‘We should’ve reached the edge of the square by now,’ the mage thought irritably, ‘Cursed mists!’
The directions of his thoughts roused the mage’s mind and he began suspiciously examining his environment with all his senses.

((OoC: Knowledge Planes and spellcraft checks please. Also, when does Arvin lose empathic contact with Cass?))
As they persisted in their attempt to leave the town the feel of the cobblestones under foot continued to give Arvin some comfort. “At least we’re still on the road,” he muttered under his breath and then even that modicum of normality vanished. The feel of cobble stone under his feet giving way to the soft carpeted feel of grass backing up a few steps he found that the cobblestones had gone. The soft sounds of the outdoors came to life as in the distance, crickets chirped quietly followed moments later by an owl calling softly. The mists began to glow and seemed to grow more corporeal, but it was just the moon appearing from behind thick clouds, somewhere far above them.

Slowly Marius turned from his position at point and looked at the party, "Anyone have any idea what happened? Do you have some divination magics available to tell us where we are? The crazy old man spoke of the mists or some people from the mists abducting their kids. Have the mists now taken us as well?"

"What the...Shouldn’t be nothing but sheep for miles 'round here, never saw anything of a forest on our way over. We may turn to mist ourselves if we don’t get out of here soon,” Chale said with a frown.

“I can find North if that's any help? Though the rest I am as clueless as you, friend.” Mylos responded to the templar’s questions.

"I'm going to have to second that movement," Ark said with his sword in hand and his eyes in constant motion, "Can't figure out where we're going till we know where we are, right?"

“Time certainly has seemed to play mary-hob on us, Marius,” Anna said, indicating the moon high above them. The corner of her mouth twitched as she continued, “Aside from that, I haven’t the foggiest idea.”

Arvin watched as Ark lowered the point of his sword and sidled upto Anna. "Hey," he murmured quietly, "How're you holding up?"

“Considering we just got kidnapped by mist, pretty well,” she replied, keeping her voice low as she moved even closer to Ark, “I’m pretty annoyed that both my cloak and my bedroll are still on the wagon. That, and Wynn is out in the middle of some potentially demon infested town.” She sighed heavily before continuing, “What I wouldn’t do for a drink right about now.”

“I’m not so sure that a drink would be that great an idea Anna,” Arvin spoke in soft tones, “After all, we don’t know where we are or what’s out here waiting for us. I think that perhaps we should move away from this area and find a good place for me to set-up a shelter for us and get some rest,” the mage continued, “We can always come back in the morning…or would you rather try to return to that gods forsaken village in the middle of the night?”

After speaking his piece, the mage waited for the rest of the party to decide how to proceed. “It’s a good thing I never go anywhere without my book and components,” He muttered, “We can sleep dry and safe for the night and then in the morning we’ll see if we can’t get back to our mounts and gear…I do hope Cass and Rain are ok,” The mage fell silent with a sigh. His features reflecting his concern for his both his mount and his dog.

Ark chuckled softly as Anna suggested a nightcap. "Normally, I'd be all for a good ale," he mutters. "But somehow, I doubt I'd be able to enjoy it. As for bedrolls... I'm sure you can bear to be away from your usual goose-down pillow for a night." The ruffian said that last bit with a gentle, teasing tone. "Shoulder will have to do, won't it?"

“I’m not so sure that a drink would be that great an idea Anna,” Arvin spoke in soft tones, “After all, we don’t know where we are or what’s out here waiting for us. I think that perhaps we should move away from this area and find a good place for me to set-up a shelter for us and get some rest,” the mage continued, “We can always come back in the morning…or would you rather try to return to that gods forsaken village in the middle of the night?”

Ark flinches a little, unaware that they had been listened to, but the interjection makes him realize that their potentially dangerous situation didn't have room for flirting and teasing. They were just... Teleported? Or was all this an illusion? Ark had no way of knowing. Many times, he preferred it that way; better not to know all the intricate, gory details of the latest horrible monster. Just how to kill it sufficed for him.

"I'm going to have to second that," he says. "We have no idea what we're up against. Whatever it is, I wager it'll be at least somewhat easier to defend against if we stay put until daylight."

Visibility was still very limited. The eerie moonlight did nothing to improve on the dreadful feeling of being utterly lost in a land that didn’t even seem to be their own anymore. Sounds of a midnight forest that should not have been there twirled around them. Keeping their wits, the group took no further steps but decided to stay put. The time had come to think about what needed to be done next. In the mean time, others took a moment to reflect on what exactly had happened.

Arvin couldn’t shake the sight of the old librarian evaporating before them. In fact, every now and then he thought he could see the old man’s face gazing at them through the fog. It was just his mind playing tricks on him though, but it kept his nerves on edge. He kept going over that scene in his mind. What bothered him the most was that he simply couldn’t explain what had happened to the man. At least, it hadn’t been a magical effect he could place. He was equally puzzled over the sudden disappearance of the village and their changing surroundings. He had many theories, but which one was most accurate… there was simply no way of telling.

Then his thoughts lingered on his dog. Something should’ve happened to the emphatic link if they were truly separated, but such was not the case.
Who was equally worried about her animal companion was Anna. Wynn was not the kind of mare to get scared easily, as the swashbuckler had taken every moment to heighten her steed’s confidence. A scared horse wouldn’t do well in tricky situations. And tricky situations were part of the life of an adventurer after all.

Tricky was exactly the kind of word Mylos would use to describe the determination of ‘north’ in the heavy fog. The Brath had an extensive knowledge of how the world worked geographically. He knew the hills of northern Ertain and would’ve been able to discern any kind of direction by the curve of the horizon and the stars overhead. The tricky part though, was that he couldn’t see three feet in front of him. He saw the moon, a bleak and blind eye somewhere high above them. There was something not right about the position of the heavenly circle. Still, he had always felt as though blessed with an internal compass, and guessed that the right way to go was slightly to his right.

Ark Morigan knew that no matter what kind of direction the Brath would pick, it was most likely not a good idea to try and travel the woods through these mists. And daylight would be even better. If the town had indeed been taken by demons, they needed a clear view of their enemy. He voiced his opinions and nobody seemed to disagree, no matter how badly they wanted to find the cart. One by one they all sat down.

Chale and Marius hadn’t spoken for a while. Chale felt lost; more lost than he had in a long time. He had abandoned his God, but it now seemed that Solanis had abandoned him as well. No matter how he had tried to release himself from his deity’s influences, he had always felt a slight connection, like a lingering, invisible umbilical cord that didn’t feed him but neither hindered his actions. It was a trace of his past and he had learned to accept its existence. Then, when the mists had come up and they had found themselves on the forest floor, the connection was gone. It was gone, and he felt utterly alone.

Marius had also felt a kind of diminished presence of the Just One. Rydor was still there with him, but he seemed distant, as if the fog had faded the frequency and cottoned his ears to the words of the Lawmaker.
The group seemed unable to answer his questions. He couldn’t really blame them. What was happening was unsettling. He searched his mind, but realized that this kind of sorcery was even beyond the capabilities of Sendrian forces. Besides, Arvin, the party mage should’ve been able to find some trace of magic.

Each lingered in their own thoughts or drizzled in and out of consciousness until the morning came. Sleep had come to none, and they rose slightly brackish and sore from the uncomfortable forest floor. The trees here were crooked, with bent trunks and many dead branches sticking out like thick thorns. Sharp rocks dotted the dry moss and the sand was loose and grainy. The mists hadn’t gone, but they seemed to have faded a bit. They could see each other and about 5 yards ahead. All around them stretched a forest, dry and barely alive. It was a grey world of spooky silhouettes in the diffuse light of an invisible sun.

Following Mylos’ directions they headed east. The nearest forest had been closer to the Sendrian border, so logic told them to head back into the lands they had come from.
As time passed, the forest remained the same. The dry and dreadfully pale landscape resembled nothing they had ever seen in Ertain, but they pressed on. After an hour they stumbled upon a low pool of water surrounded by three pine trees. It was a welcome change in scenery, but beyond lay more desolate trees.

They filled their skins and continued their journey. Two hours of hiking, resting and searching passed, when they encountered another pool. It took them a moment to recognize the fact that this could only be the same puddle of water, with the same three pines as before. Somehow they had travelled in circles.

It was decided then that eastward was not the right direction to go. South might be better. They all took a moment to gaze at their surroundings, the sky (as covered in mist as it was) and their gut feeling. Annoyingly confused they came to a general agreement and they marched on.

A day passed. Nothing changed.

The next morning they continued their journey. The same uninhabited and twisted landscape unwound before them. But at midday, or at least, they guessed it was midday, a lone green beech tree marked itself between the otherwise near dead trunks. Half an hour later the forest changed entirely as they passed through it; no more dead and twisted trunks appeared, birds announced themselves occasionally and in the end the mists parted.

It was after another hour passed that they stumbled upon a dirt road. It was the first sign of civilization in almost two days and the sight of the simple print of wagon wheels relieved some of the sullen despair that had settled somewhere underneath their skin.

Following the dirt road lead them to a brighter forest. The sun was casting its light through a thin layer of clouds, but at least they could see where they were going. The vegetation of the forest became more diverse and they noted squirrels and even a few rabbits between the lush birches and oaks.

Then the road left the forest and led down into a slight valley, where they saw a smallish village surrounded by grassland and trees. It reminded them a bit of the village with the pyre, but there is no sign of smoke between the buildings. And they could see villagers walking about and farmers on their lands.

With renewed vigour they approached the town, but halted suddenly. On the side of the road, not far from the forest but still half a mile away from the village stood a few trees. In one of the trees hung a puppet made of pink leather. It had a small body and a big head, almost man-sized, with small button eyes and a stitched mouth. It was bound to the tree by a thin rope, and around its neck hung a wire with feathers and beads. Its gaze was at the road they were standing on, and though it was just a lifeless puppet, it gave them the creepy feeling that it was watching them.

“You boys are always ruining my fun,” she said good naturedly, and added under her breath, “Not that I have anything to drink with me anyway.”

Relief filled Anna when it was decided not to continue on into the darkening mists. She settled in on Ark’s offered shoulder as they leaned against a twisted tree, and attempted to rest. The notion was laughable. Though the warm heat from Ark was comforting, it hardly distracted her from the surroundings. Her mind was on edge as she stared into the gloom before her, convinced that something would suddenly appear at attack the party. She tried focusing on something else, but worry for Wynn continued to eat away at her thoughts. Anna spent most of the night fingering her rapier resting on the ground.

As the fog began to turn a steely gray, Anna decided she had enough of attempting to sleep. Extracting herself from the uncomfortable position she had managed to twist into proved to be a bit difficult; she ended up rolling from Ark and the bent tree to get her limbs unlocked. Anna stood up and slowly stretched down to the ground, painfully aware of fact that she had just spent several hours on the rocky forest floor.

“I’d like to file a complaint with the management,” she said wearily as she contorted her body into a variety of stretches, “starting with the fact that I didn’t get fresh flowers delivered to my room.”

Her hands found the rough bark of one of the trees as she stretched; on a sudden whim she broke a small piece of one of the dead, thorn like branches and stuck into her pouch. Mental note: she thought as she tied the strings shut, Do not get into that bag without looking first.
At Mylos’ suggestion, they headed east. East was good. It felt right going towards the sun; it at least was a constant force in this unfamiliar territory. The pool they came across was unremarkable. Anna silently winced at the thought of drinking its waters, but didn’t say anything. Beggars can’t be choosers. Besides, I’m sure I’ve drunk much worse at the Watchman’s Retreat in Bayris.
They continued east. It seemed like several hours had passed before the party came across another pool. Everything had been going fine, or at least as fine as it could be due to the circumstances, until someone pointed out the fact that this was the same pool they had filled their water skins at hours ago.

“The same one?” Anna exclaimed. She sat down at the edge of the pool, mentally and physically exhausted. It was bad enough to have been whisked away from a familiar place, far from civilization and all its comforts, but to be walking in circles even though they travelled in one direction?

Anna put her face into her hands, “I feel like we’re being driven towards a particular path. I’d like to say we should just stay here until this strange phenomenon has worked itself out, but I doubt that would do it. Besides, pretty sure sitting here would drive me crazy,” she looked up at the rest of the group, “So, new direction?”

They discussed it a little bit more, and decided that south would be the best next choice. Not that it mattered much to Anna; she was just glad to be doing something. Nothing changed in the hours that followed, but at least they didn’t run into the pool again. Everything was quiet, almost too quiet. The night passed much like the first in this desolate place.

Anna awoke the next morning in very much the same manner as the day before.

“Could someone remind the maid to change the sheets for tonight?” she muttered as she began her morning stretching routine, “I’m pretty sure mine had some dirt in them.”

The mood was rather somber as they continued south for the day. She certainly was glad that someone could provide a stable direction; Mylos’ talent helped her feel more secure with a definite direction, rather than aimless wandering around in the mist. But the mist seemed to be letting up. In fact, around midday, a different sort of tree suddenly popped into view. A lively green beech tree stood before them. Anna ran her hands across the trunk, and turned back to grin at the rest of the crew.

“Looks like we’re going the right way,” she said, throwing a wink at Mylo. It wasn’t long after that the birds began to announce their presence. The mist rolled back, revealing a rather lush forest that didn’t look familiar to any of them.

About an hour later, they literally stumbled upon a dirt road. Wagon wheel imprints were clearly visible in the dirt, and Anna again felt relief wash over her. This was immediately followed by suspicion, but she couldn’t place her finger on what had done it. Images of taverns, hot drinks, and soft beds danced in her mind, and she instantly forgot about her uneasy feeling. She had to contain herself from running down the road, but was still practically skipping as they continued on.

Everything was getting steadily brighter. Oak, birch, and beech towered overhead, squirrels were playing merrily in their branches, and Anna was sure she caught sight of a rabbit or two in the underbrush. Her face practically beamed as a small village came into view.

“Whiskey-o, Johnny-o,” she began to sing merrily,
“John rise her up from down below,
Whiskey, whiskey, whiskey-o
Up aloft this yard must go,” her words trailed off as they all halted.

A grotesque puppet was hung from a tree on the side of the trail. The body was made out of pink leather, and it was adorned with a primitive looking necklace made of feathers and beads. The eyes, the eyes were buttons, and the mouth was stitched in place. Sinister was a good word to start describing the feeling that came off of it. Anna stared at it, trying to understand what she was seeing.

“Everywhere I move,” she said with a frown, moving side to side as she spoke, “it’s like its eyes are following me.”

“It’s strange,” she said after a moment, hesitating before adding, “Do you think we need to provide a toll to pass? An offering?” Her words were cut short again; something told her that saying too much in front of this puppet could be a bad idea.

A very bad idea indeed.

Ark chuckled a little bit. "There'll be drinks plenty, Anna," he says. "Just as soon as we figure this mess out."

When the decision was arrived at that they would make camp, Ark volunteered to take watch for the night, and spent what darkness that remained in the night awake and alert; one hand on Raz's hilt, the sword laying across his lap with the edge bare and shimmering a rich orange-gold with its magic, though it wasn't enough to enhance his vision the way Ark had hoped. His other arm lay quiet around Anna's waist, and his blue eyes vigilant for any signs of movement. Ark often took those long watches; he had a touch of insomnia as it was, and the long silent hours gave him time to contemplate.

When his companion stood, Ark followed her up.

“I’d like to file a complaint with the management,” she said wearily as she contorted her body into a variety of stretches, “starting with the fact that I didn’t get fresh flowers delivered to my room.”

"Aw, poor princess," Ark teased. "And I suppose the bed had lumps too?"

---------------------------------------------

The next day brought an achy back and more of the same. Same mist, same field of choked trees, same sense of foreboding and dread. They set out east, Coming across the pool with little of note to speak of.

That, of course, was until they did it all again.

Anna put her face into her hands, “I feel like we’re being driven towards a particular path. I’d like to say we should just stay here until this strange phenomenon has worked itself out, but I doubt that would do it. Besides, pretty sure sitting here would drive me crazy,” she looked up at the rest of the group, “So, new direction?”

"New direction sounds about good," Ark agreed. "It's not as though we've got anything better to try, right?" The blond Bayrisian seemed chipper enough, smiling brightly.

Another day passed.

The next morning they set out again, and this time luck or the gods were with them. Eventually they worked their way back into sunshine and green forests. Then, the village came into view, and even from this distant vantage, Ark could feel the life. "Anna," he said with a grin. "We may get that drink after all..."

When he came across the doll, however, all Ark's exuberance took a blow. "By my father's grave, what in the hells is that...?"

Mylos looked to the heavens hoping to figure out some sort of direction, it was one of his many talents and had saved him and the group many times before, however this time it seemed as though the moon was out of place its usual arc distorted, Mylos shook his head and deduced that it was the mist distorting his vision that was all. He looked around him and pointed to his right.

“East lays that way comrades.” He tried to sound confident but really it was half a guess.

The group had halted and it was time to make some form of makeshift camp. Mylos was without his bedroll and warm winter blanket, having thought it unnecessary in the built up town. Nevertheless he wandered over to a nearby gnarled tree, fingering his amulet of Alanus as he walked, he sat down resting his back against the brown-green vines which weaved along its trunk. His legs were cramped and his feet sore, a blister had formed around the base of his heel, yet he was loathe to pop it, knowing it would hurt the more on the morrow and another day of mist walking was like to kill him.

Mylos was not made for physical exertion, his legs were small and bandy, and when he walked for long periods he adopted a waddling gait as he fought to keep up with the longer legged members of the party. He had grown accustomed to their wagon, lounging in the back feeling the cool air run through his hair and sweep across his face was much preferred to the aching cramps of walking.

Mylos slept a little, he was fearful of the mysterious mist and worried what may come out of the wispy tendrils. He managed a few hours however and felt somewhat refreshed as the morning sun rose at dawn. He began to stand and a wave of agony passed through his body, perhaps he was not refreshed at all, in fact he felt worse. There was a creak in his neck, where he had slept awkwardly, and the muscles in his legs roared with pain, every step taking a copious amount of effort, yet soon they warmed up and the pain subsided though for how long he could not say.

The group set off following Mylos' guess of east and soon the lack of direction showed they passed a lake that looked eerily similar to another pool of water not four leagues back. A few members of the group shot Mylos questioning glances but carried on their way east.

Soon the questioning glances were forgotten and a small town emerged, seemingly full of life. The town reminded him of the previous hamlet, yet he could not put his finger on why. This village had life and a completely different set up of buildings, there was still an inn and a cluster of small houses as befit any town or hamlet, but most importantly there was no burning pyre and charred body, or so it appeared.

He noticed Anna's apparent glee at finding civilisation, she did not like discomfort even more than Mylos himself and was clearly joyous that a soft bed may be in order tonight. She even started singing which Mylos thought clever, even if she had done it unknowingly, announcing their presence in song was often far better than announcing their arrival with swords especially with small folk, so he added his gentle voice to the song.

No sooner did Anna's voice trail off as his did a chilling shiver spiralling up his spine. He saw a puppet hanging from a tree branch eerily, like a human in the gallows. Odd that a peaceful village would hang a child's toy as they would a murderer, perhaps all was not as it seemed.

He was not slow in mentioning his thoughts to the group.

“This may not be all as it seems, much like the misty village before. I suggest a careful approach to this small town.” he advised the group, glancing at Marius. “Also, that thing is not what we should be scared of, it is the symbol of what these people are portraying it to mean I am concerned of the most.”

“You boys are always ruining my fun,” she said good naturedly, and added under her breath, “Not that I have anything to drink with me anyway.”

Ark chuckled a little bit. "There'll be drinks plenty Anna," he replied, "Just as soon as we figure this mess out."

Arvin decided not to give in and reply to Anna. ”Nope, I’ll just keep that snide remark to myself,” the mage thought ironically to himself, “By the gods, I wish I could see a little better” Grumbling, more than a little, under his breath Arvin settled himself against the nearest tree trunk and tried, without success, to get some sleep.

Arvin woke with the sun and stood trying to stretch the various kinks and sore muscles that came from trying to sleep leaned against a tree. He was in the middle of stretching when Anna broke the morning silence with a flippant remark, “I’d like to file a complaint with the management. Starting with the fact that I didn’t get fresh flowers delivered to my room.”

"Aw, poor princess," Ark teased. "And I suppose the bed had lumps too?"

”why the hell not,” Arvin thought and then turned, and in his best courtly manner, bowed to the young lady and replied, “Our sincerest apologies lady, if it would please you I shall have the maid beaten at once for not better preparing you quarters. After all, our first goal here at, Chateau Perdre Dans les Bois, is to please our guests.” When he finished his statement, Arvin turned away from Anna hiding the grin on his face.”This should be good,” he thought, ”let’s see how they respond.”
The morning progressed and the party headed east. Arvin spent the day studying his surroundings and pondering the events that led them to this strange place hoping to gain some insight into what had happened and how. Two hours later the party found themselves once again at the brackish pond where they had filled their water skins earlier.

Anna put her face into her hands, “I feel like we’re being driven towards a particular path. I’d like to say we should just stay here until this strange phenomenon has worked itself out, but I doubt that would do it. Besides, pretty sure sitting here would drive me crazy,” she looked up at the rest of the group, “So, new direction?”

"New direction sounds about good," Ark agreed. "It's not as though we've got anything better to try, right?" The blond Bayrisian seemed chipper enough, smiling brightly.

It was decided that a change of direction was in order and the party turned and continued south.

When night fell on the second night, Arvin was in not much better a mood as they set-up ‘camp’ for the night. ”Just once, I wish things would work out like they’re supposed,” the mage groused to himself, “There’s not near enough room here for me to cast that damn spell.” Digging in his belt he found his days worth of trail rations, and deciding that something was better than nothing, divided it into equal portions for the group, “It’s not much, but at the least it’s something.” He said as he passed around the portions and then wrapped himself in his cloak and tried to get some sleep.

The next morning dawn much as the previous one had, Arvin woke started stretching and waited for Anna’s witty remark, “Could someone remind the maid to change the sheets for tonight? I’m pretty sure mine had some dirt in them.”

“I’ll tell you what Anna,” Arvin responded without rancor, “If we can find a large enough space to sleep in tonight I’ll summon us all real beds. For now let’s see if we can’t make our way back to where we started.”

Mylos once again obliged the party by providing the correct direction and they started off in to the woods. Arvin spent the morning once again following along with his attention directed toward the party’s surroundings and how they had come to this strange place. Around mid-day the forest seemed to shift around the mage. A lone green beech tree stood out amongst the near dead trunks surrounding it. Anna darted to it and ran her hands across the trunk turning back to grin at the rest of the crew.

“Looks like we’re going the right way,” she said.

A short time later the forest changed entirely as the mage followed the rest of the party. The dead and twisted trunks ceased appearing; the song of birds could occasionally be heard and the mists eventually gave way. About an hour later the party, quite literally, stumbled across a dirt road.

As they followed the road with the mage in tow, still studying their surroundings, the forest seemed to grow ever more vibrant with squirrels and rabbits occasionally appearing. The road eventually left the forest bringing the party into a small village surrounded by grassland and trees. Arvin felt the first his spirits lift and his step quicken as he thought of a warm comfortable common room and a pint of decent beer, when suddenly the party stopped in its tracks to stare at a disturbing doll hanging from a nearby tree. The doll had a small body and a big head, almost man-sized, with small button eyes and a stitched mouth. It was bound to the tree by a thin rope, and around its neck hung a wire with feathers and beads. Its gaze was seemed to be locked on the party, and though it was just a lifeless puppet, it gave the mage the creepy feeling that it was watching him. He was about to say something when Anna beat him to the punch, “Everywhere I move,” she said, moving from side to side as she spoke, “it’s like its eyes are following me.”

“It’s strange,” she said after a moment, hesitating before adding, “Do you think we need to provide a toll to pass? An offering?”

"By my father's grave, what in the hells is that...?" Ark asked.

Mylos responded to Ark’s question first, “This may not be all as it seems, much like the misty village before. I suggest a careful approach to this small town.” he advised the group, glancing at Marius. “Also, that thing is not what we should be scared of, it is the symbol of what these people are portraying it to mean I am concerned of the most.”

“Perhaps, we should move back toward the forest and get a good night’s sleep before we enter into this strange place,” Arvin suggested, “I can call up a nice shelter and tomorrow we can investigate the village,” the mage shrugged then and continued with a smile, “I guess we’re not going to get that pint this evening after all Anna.”

((OoC: Arvin will spend the bulk of his time and attention on the party’s surroundings trying to figure out what the … and how the … it happened. Other than that, he’ll cast Loemund’s Secure Shelter for the party to use for the night.))

Marius Thulmann wasn't happy. No. That was an understatement. He was pissed off big time. It had been a long time since he'd slept the last. Spending the night in a strange forest leaning onto a trunk of a twisted tree wasn't exactly his idea of a good night's sleep. Sure, it hadn't been the first time sleep had eluded him or the first night he had been forced to stay awake for a few days, but this time it wasn't just any stop for camping overnight beside a road somewhere in the kingdom. This time none of the group had any idea about their whereabouts… But at least it wasn't raining.

All the walking in circles and trying to find their way out of the weird forest hadn't done anything to improve the witch hunter's mood. On the contrary, he was even grumpier and gloomier when the evening caught them once more. Nothing had changed in a full day. They were still in the same woods looking to get out. It was getting even stranger to the templar than the fog covered empty village which had somehow disappeared. He had never known the brathun to make a mistake in directions. The gnome somehow always seemed to know which way to go even when Marius's own sense of direction had failed a long time ago. It was as if some powerful magic was trying to stop them from leaving the forest.

The next night hadn't been much better. It felt like he hadn't slept a minute, but Marius knew better. The exhaustion had overwhelmed him at some point he was sure. For even if his back was still sore from the bumps in the tree trunk, his mind seemed a bit more refreshed in the morning. But having dozed on and off a few times during the night hadn't done much to his spirits. The witch hunter still wanted to strangle someone, even if only figuratively speaking.

Then some time during the afternoon a miracle happened, or so it felt to Marius. They finally found some indication of civilization in the wilderness - a dirt road. Miracle or not, it certainly did wonders to the sendrian's mood. He wasn't happy of course, no. Had he bothered to think about it, Marius probably wouldn't have even remembered the last time he'd felt happy. No he wasn't happy, but he felt somewhat pleased about the possibility of a nearby town or a village. Picturing the map of Ertain in his mind, the witch hunter wasn't too sure there should be a road or a settlement anywhere near their current location. Then again he didn't have much clue about where they were, did he. Shrugging, Marius looked at Mylos for a confirmation of the direction they should pick. Receiving a shrug as a reply, the dark man nodded and started following the road to the direction closest to where they had been heading before.

Soon the forest turned into a more inviting and pleasant one and they could even catch fleeting glimpses of critters amongst the undergrowth and the trees. It was nice, but what was even nicer was the smoke from a number of chimneys rising high up in the air from a village that suddenly appeared before them as the road headed into a slight valley ahead. The buildings resembled those of the village they'd left behind a couple of days ago, but that wasn't much of a wonder of course. All villages looked the same at first glance. But what was different about this one were it's people. They were still there.

Anna began singing, but soon her beautiful voice quieted down as the group stopped to take in the view. It wasn't the village however the others seemed to worry about, but a puppet tied to a nearby tree instead. It felt somehow surprisingly lifelike although it was clearly made of leather and had buttons for eyes. Marius had never seen one quite like it before, but he'd seen similar attempts to scare away strangers before. For that's what he believed it to be - a scarecrow for men. It very much seemed like the village wanted to be left alone.

Not saying a word, Marius was about to start walking down the slope towards the small village when Ark voiced a suggestion:

“Perhaps, we should move back toward the forest and get a good night’s sleep before we enter into this strange place. “I can call up a nice shelter and tomorrow we can investigate the village,” the mage shrugged then and continued with a smile, “I guess we’re not going to get that pint this evening after all Anna.””

When the mage had finished, Marius let out an audible sigh and turned to face him. "Listen Arvin. You can do whatever you want, but I'm heading down there. Your magic is powerful and useful indeed and I appreciate the fact that it's on our side. But right now the idea spending another night in the woods, no matter how nice your summoned beds and shelter would be, doesn't really sound inviting. I want a real bed, some real hot food and a pitcher of wine. I'm sure we'll end up spending plenty of nights outside in the future as well and I'll gladly accept your offer then. Right now the village wins. I'm not going to start wondering about every town we see whether it's safe to enter or not."

There was no anger in the witch hunter's voice, disappointment at most. He'd just had his share of camping outside for now. Besides more than the things he'd mentioned a heartbeat ago, Marius was eager to know where they were.

Leaving the intimidating stare of the lifeless puppet behind, the group decided to head for the town, despite the wizard’s warning that refreshing spells was perhaps not such a bad idea. But even as they descended the smooth hill it felt as if the thing was watching them.

Soon they turned their attention fully on the town ahead. It was situated in a small valley of grassy fields where cows grazed and farmland where wheat whispered. From a distance they could see that the village was quite large, consisting of more than just a few farms and sheds. People were walking the streets, going from shop to shop or bringing their children home from school. Farmers worked the lands surrounding the town and the occasional guard greeted the grocer’s daughter behind the outdoor stand. It was a peaceful town, it seemed.

As the group approached, the main road traded its dirt for cobblestones which were neatly placed; a welcome change for their feet, compared to the harsh grounds of the misty forest. People stopped doing what they were doing as they passed, staring at the strangers with more than just curiosity. Their gazes were cautious, their faces bordering on stern, giving only the slightest nod of welcome.

Then they rounded a corner, and recognition dawned on them. The town’s square wasn’t very large, with stone and plaster houses lining its pavements. They noted a library and an old man sitting in front of his house cutting a wooden sculpture with a ground down knife.
One of the buildings supported a sign depicting a campfire with a wild boar skewered on a stick above it. Golden letters curled below it: The Boar on Rotation.

(OOC: Going to stop here to see the look on your face.)