9th Bre Taola, 452 E.R.
Isil'nari Manor house

The morning came to the Isil'nari manor, but Lord Tansathil himself ddid not make another appearance.  The servants ushered the party to a dining hall and provided all manner of light, yet surprisingly tasty and filing fare.  When everyone was fully sated, the servants again made themselves available, offering whatever road rations or other provisions the party members desired to pack.  Once everyone was fully prepared, the companions were escorted to the gates of the manor's boundaries and bid farewell.

A chill breeze hung in the misty morning air.  Telamor himself had apparently been comissioned by Kith'jora; the midautumn forest was a tapestry of brilliant golds, warm oranges, and fiery reds.  While true winter was well over a month away, the warmth of summer was likewise well behind; the trip promised to have chilly nights in store for the travelers.

Isil'nari manor lay slightly south and west of Ela-Ishtel, the capital of Alloryen.  As such, Hyanda Nost was almost due west, while the direct route to the human lands would be more southwest, running almost directly through the settlement of Lomelindel to reach the Sendrian border.  While that might be the most obvious route to take, one could theoretically head west instead, into the foothills of the moutains of the khordaldrum, passing west though their territory before looping south to the human lands.  

Of course, neither border was technically open.   The sylvari enjoyed a truce with the khordaldrum, but by mutual agreement, only diplomatic parties were allowed to traverse through one another's lands.  The Sendrian border itself was closed and hostile to the sylvari.  In either approach, the party would have to sneak or fight there way into the lands of the former Anathari.

Lord Tansathil gave no advice as to which path to take; he had been very clear that he trusted the party to manage this type of decision themselves.  As so, it was up to the party to formulate a plan for how they would proceed.

Once the group had travelled a few hours away from the estate, Rain made his way back to the group proper, falcon on his shoulder. Getting the group's attention, he motioned them a small ways off the path, "We need to speak, and decisions need to be made before we get properly started."

(((OOC: Assuming the group gathers with no or minimal objections.)))

Rainminainen met the eyes of each member of the group. "This is the closest we're going to get to private." He reaches up and strokes the falcon along the back of the head. "Sendria. That's dangerous territory for us. Whatever you think you know about it, its worse than that, I assure you. However, first thing we have to worry about is getting there." The bird takes off, and Rain smiles at it for a bit, before returning his attention to the group. "As the falcon flies, It's not all that far. If we push hard, we could be ther in under a fornight." He shook his head. "But given the secrecy Lord Tansathil desres, this is not the best route." Rain gestures at himself, then the rest of the group. "We as a group are quite memorable, both in size and composition. Added to the sheer amount of eyes on the Sendrian border, and I do not believe that I can guide us through safely, and certainly not without alerting at least our own people.

"Circling south through Ertain would be far preferable, but add far too long to the journey. So I fear we are only left with one option." Again, Rain meets the eyes of the group, doing his best to impress upon them the seriousness of the situation. "We go north, through the Khord Mountains."

(((OOC: Waits a bit for any objections, murmers of discontent, etc.)))

"I'm no fan of this myself, but it is the only route that can get us there in both a timely and inconspicuous fashion." A small smirk. "Hopefully inconspicuous, at any rate. With a slightly longer and less watched border, it should be a much easier job to leave the Kingdom without alerting any potential rivals, and while keeping Sendria totally in the dark." Rainminainen shoots a questioning look at both Arathea and Dak. "Especially if, after a small detour to Hyanda Nost, some person or persons were able to discover the patrol routes."

Rain continues in a more cheerful tone, "Once across, we can skirt the southern border of the mountains, keeping well away from Khord holdings. Sneaking south into Sendria will be much easier:While they leave no border unguarded, the reclusive nature of the Khords themselves means that the norther border is under much less scrutiny."

Again, he adressed the group as a whole. "So, by which path shall we travel? I've made my recommendation, but as I've sworn to guide this group, I will lead us however it is decided."

****************************************

Hyanda Nost - Blade Keep

As the party members made their way out of the library, Rainminainen felt a light tug at the hem of his cloak. Looking down, half expecting that the garment had caught on something he’d rather not tip over, he found Dak Whisperfoot grinning up at him. “Good to see you, again, Old Man,” the halfling squeaked, “It’s been a while, no? Glad to see you’re still striding the woodlands.”

A genuine smile found itself on Rain's face for the first time all day. "Not so long as all that, Little Man.Should I take your presence here as a sign of Things To Come?"

"My presence?" Dak's face crinkled up in an expression of feigned indignance for an instant. "I would think the fact that we're being shuffled of to Sendria would be sign enough of things to come, mellonamin." The impish grin returned quickly enough and he gave the ranger a playful nudge. "Little Man, Big Trouble, eh," he laughed, a wink cast up towards Rain's smiling visage, "Of all these gathered, I suppose it would be you that knows that best. Just as I know that, with you guiding us, we ought see some splendid sights along the way, hm?"

Rain's expression fell at the first part of Dak's reply. "Indeed. I fear some of our party are in for a rude awakening once we cross the border. Honor, virtue.... even the gods mean little in that forest." He shook himself, playing at another smile. "I shall do my best, but as the lord said, we may be in a race against parties unknown. There shan't be time for my usual preferences pathfinding." The smile seemed more genuine as Rain added "But I'm sure I can come up with something."

"I have every confidence that you will," the halfling grinned, his eyes flitting over the remaining party members as they wandered away, each toward the quarters that had been prepared for them. "I fear, too, that you may be right where that rude awakening is concerned, Old Man," he murmured, his smile flattening a bit, "Ventures into such a place as Sendria often require an overabundunce of stealth and subtlety. I wonder if even half of this troupe can manage such things, hm?"

"A valid point. But stealth isn't as hard as most people believe." Rain gave the shorter man a meaningful look. "Not the kind I'm speaking of, anyway. A bit of common sense and luck should get us there." He huffed a soft laugh, then turned to go. "I'll be sleeping outside tonight. Don't let them leave without me, hm?"

Dawnlight found her again in the kitchens, as busy as it had been quiet the night before–blackiron stove creakily expanding against its rekindling, the room abustle with preparations of morning fare and the sundries to see them a few weeks roadward. Despite the First Mistress’s glower when she thought Seleniniel unaware, kitchen staff flowed around the Isil’nari presence, eddies to a riverrock. Seleniniel paid them the same mind. All but the tabbycat, hoping after the smoked links under arm, feline seductions bent toward the stranger in strange smells. But tabbycat soon shared the First’s glower, dropping pretenses as Seleniniel dispelled hope with a lazy sidefoot, sparing its hiss neither thought nor glance.  

Not nervous or gossipy. He must've got in and out then, or I've missed my mark of him…

A sip of still-steeping looseleaf tea, honeyed against the bitterness. Ritual bringing a hint of a smile to her eyes.

Let’s see.

A second time, he spared her the inconvenience of navigating servant halls. Perched in an eastward windowsill, gazing at the scarce light of hardslanting sun that dappled through the canopy this far down in the Manor, nibbling his own earlymorning kitchenfilchings. Before earshot, he turned with a ready grin, apparently not surprised to find her finding him and evidently self pleased.

Hmm. Then there was something worth finding.

“I trust you've procured more than consummate snackings from my Ubcle’s kitchen.” She eyes his belly, not hiding her assessment.

((OOC assume Dak is tentative in the open hallway))

“Oh come now, as a courier you can surely convey all that interests me without anything so clumsy as conspicuous whispers.”

“So. What then?”

Arathea left her chambers to enjoy her last real breakfast before returning to the road yet again, to prepare her things to leave, and to group with the rest of the party. Her mind was a flurry of emotions, excitement, dedication, and worry for what may come. She understood that Sendria would be a dangerous place, a place where the most dark and insedious forces could exert their power in the world. The old glories of the empire that were lost captivated Arathea however, Imagine what was lost? A treasure trove of knowledge and old national glory awaits us! She thought to herself.

As the party exited the manor Arathea looked out at the Sylvari forests, the only place she'd ever known, and she was about to leave it for the first time in her life in order to service it to the best of her ability. She trusted Rain to guide them through this journey, she guessed his entire reason to be here was just to guide them. Though the decision he made surpised her, through the Khord lands? She would take a moment to consider.

"Well sir, I understand you have seen all of these lands before, yes?" She began, "I imagine you know a great deal about about these lands, so I would trust your judgement. If it minimizes our encounters with hostile forces, then I am all for it. An alert that a 'Sylvari invasion force has crossed the border' is the least of what we need, so if that border is less well held there then lead the way. Though I will say, I doubt the fine forces of the Imperial Army will care much for what we do, at mosts they'll warn us that Sendrians will... not appreciate us."

The priestess of Taudor Salka awoke momentarily confused, unused to such comforts, but was quickly brought back to herself by the sound of her small friend rummaging through her pockets. Rosariel rolled over to find her clothes had been tossed about in Tubs’ quest to find crackers. Crumbs and trinkets now littered the floor beneath her pack, within which she could hear the little scavenger indulging in his spoils.

“Lle ai’thost,” she grumbled as she climbed out of the large bed and wrenched the beast from her things, “You little s***”. She held him in both hands in front of her face, while his small rat hands held the piece of cracker up to his ever-chewing mouth, “You’ve already let luxury go to your head. Keep it up and I shall feed you to the first predator we stumble across. Is that clear?”

More chewing.

Rosariel sighed and dropped the ingrate onto the bed while she dressed in her displaced clothing and armor, then sat cross-legged on the lavish rug that adorned the floor at the foot of her bed. She placed her hands splayed in the rug on either side of her knees. She preferred her prayers to be at an altar with a fresh offering displayed; when there wasn’t an altar or an offering, she would settle for digging her hands into the land the Huntress had blessed her with abundance. When neither were available, and/or when the servants of the lord whose dwelling she’d been given access to began knocking on her door to pester her for breakfast, then grounding herself in whatever space was available would have to do.

Blotting out the sound of the servants outside the door and Tubs making more bed crumbs behind her, Rosariel sent a quick prayer to Taudor Salka, asking her to provide guidance to their scout, courage to their warriors, cunning to their swift little Cidal, strength to their mage, and wisdom to their healers. Afterward she jumped up and cleaned as much of Tubs’ mess as she could before placing him back in her hood and jogging down to join the others in their meal.

Once finished they were ushered once more to load supplies and begin their trek.

Rosariel listened as they received their travel options. Their guide seemed to prefer the path through the Khord lands. At least if they were caught there they likely wouldn’t be fired upon on sight. Perhaps.

“Should we be seen by the Khords, what will we say to them to get them to let us through? It’s my understanding that there is still quite some animosity there, and due to the delicate nature of our quest, I doubt the Lord Tansathil will be too eager to write any sort of note explaining our reason for trespassing.” She squinted her eyes in thought for a moment, “Should we also see if we are able to procure some horses or other means of travel? Perhaps not when we are trying to sneak through the Khord lands, but we may be able to cut some of our travel time to that region.”

((OOC: any responses))

She nods, “You are the experts here, I defer to your wisdom and expertise.”

While the others continued to discuss their travel plans, Rosariel glanced over at their other priestess. Or monk. Or whatever those of the Lysoran clergy preferred. Her mask was intriguing, and soft against the fierce look in her eyes.

She walked over to the stoic woman, raising a hand in greeting, “‘Quel amrun! I’m Rosariel. Are you well?”

((OOC: assuming confused response))

“Sorry, the bladesinger asked me this yesterday. I wasn’t sure if it was a greeting or… Anyway….” She trailed off for a moment under her gaze, “You and I are tasked with keeping this troop alive, it would seem. I have experience with hunting parties and the like, but nothing like this expedition ahead of us. The Huntress herself seems primed for this adventure.” Her smile was wide with excitement as she continued, “Have you ever accompanied a party such as this? I’m looking forward to seeing you and everyone else in action. Maybe we can learn a thing or two from each other as well.”

Morning Tea

Morning found the Cid, already outfitted in his dappled grey travelling clothes, sitting on the sill of a window with a cup of tea, a crust of bread, and a rasher of bacon, reveling in the rising of the sun. The gauzy blanket of mist hanging over the autumnal Sylvari woodland lent an almost ethereal quality to the vista, hinting at the mysteries that lay ahead and promising cool mornings and chilly nights along the journey to unravel them. He couldn’t help but wonder if the forests of Sendria were as enchanting as those in Sylvaria or if, perhaps, they might be as dark, twisted, and haunted as the folk who dwelled there. Before he lost himself overmuch in those musings, though, he sensed more than saw the approach of the woman who had tasked him, last night, with snooping about in Lord Tansathil’s library.

“Quel amrun, Lady Isil’nari,” he said, turning his eyes to Seleneniel and offering her a complacent grin, “I trust the morning finds you well rested for our journey?”

“I trust you’ve procured more than consummate snackings from my Uncle’s kitchen,” the frosty mage countered with a pointed glance at his belly.

“That would be trust well placed, my lady,” Dak chuckled, brushing a dusting of crumbs from the front of his coat as he hopped down from the sill. His gaze darted from one end of the corridor to the other before finding their way back to her. “Are you certain you wish to discuss those findings here,” he asked, lifting a conspiratorial brow.

“Oh come now, as a courier you can surely convey all that interests me without anything so clumsy as conspicuous whispers,” the Syl woman retorted, “So. What then?”

“As you wish,” the halfling smirked and shrugged, poking the last bit of bacon past his lips as his eyes swept the hallway again. “Things are much as your Lord Uncle presented, yester-eve,” he related, “but, for as much as we were told, there were, as you expected, more than a few minor omissions. Details about other treasures beyond just the seal of House Lanalthis – the mention of a kormaguli and hints at the liunelini, for example - but, the most curious notation to be found did concern the seal and, likely, shines a brighter light on Lord Tansathil’s desire to have it returned…” he spiked a quizzical brow and flashed a secretive smile, “…Does the term her’i’coia strike a chord?”

((OOC: Any response/reaction… ))

“I thought it might,” Dak nodded, that self-assured grin tugging at his lips as he retrieved his teacup from the sill, “Do you still care to continue, here, or maybe the remainder of this conversation is best saved for the road, hm?”

***

Roadside Reasoning

A few hours later and a fair distance from the Isil’nari manse, Rainminainen returned from his forward reconnoitering and called the column to a halt, ushering them to the side of the path they had been travelling. “We need to speak,” the ranger stated, “and decisions need to be made before we get properly started.”

Dak bobbed his head and snugged the stem of his pipe into one corner of his mouth, listening intently as Rain reiterated the danger that venturing into Sendria presented. The woodsman went on to detail the pros and cons of the various routes they might take to reach their destination, then, and, at the end of it, presented the group with his preferred option…

"We go north, through the Khord Mountains."

The bladesinger rejoined the suggestion with an expression of faith in Rain’s judgement on the matter but, also, touched on the possible diplomatic pitfalls that might arise should they encounter any Khords along the way. The priestess of Vilathera gave voice to similar concerns but didn’t raise any true objection as to the proposed path, though she did suggest that horses might speed their traversal of the Khrodaldrum domain.

"I'm no fan of this myself,” Rain confessed in response to the various commentary, “but it is the only route that can get us there in both a timely and inconspicuous fashion. Hopefully inconspicuous, at any rate. With a slightly longer and less watched border, it should be a much easier job to leave the Kingdom without alerting any potential rivals, and while keeping Sendria totally in the dark." The ranger fixed both Arathea and Dak with a searching gaze; "Especially if, after a small detour to Hyanda Nost, some person or persons were able to discover the patrol routes."

“That should be done easily enough, Old Man,” Dak nodded, a knowing smile curling his lips around the pipe stem.

“And, while horses might very well hurry us through the Kharolis Mountains,” he added, his gaze and grin falling on Rosareil, “they might also make us more conspicuous. It is easy enough to hide a person, even sigies such as yourselves; horses, though, not so much.”

((OOC: Any back and forth, here?))

Rain continued on for a few moments longer, elaborating on his suggested approach to the northern border of Sendria. Then he left the final decision in the hands of the party as a whole; "So, by which path shall we travel? I've made my recommendation, but as I've sworn to guide this group, I will lead us however it is decided."

“You’ve never led me astray in any of the times you and I have traveled together, Master Ranger,” Dak shrugged, “I would be a fool to question your guidance here. I’m fine with the path you’ve suggested.”

After listening closely to the first two options when Ruadhrí heard the path through the Khord mountains he thought to himself These Khords are much like Cidals, no? he pondered to himself for A bit until reaching a point of vote.

" I think through the mountains would be most preferable considering what the ranger has told us " in truth the Bofear did not put much thought into it, his mind cought on something else. The morning he was about to go look for Dak he saw something on the ledger, it read recieved: Andriv Anndrasdan when he checked the chest a letter was left in the small box.

Ruadhrí

We have been seen to quiet strange quarters, it is A large building consisting of many pelts, mainly of Deer though Alani and I were giving Tornig bear which was A pleasent suprise, but I do not write you for nothing cousin, when we awoke last morning the door from which we entered was locked until about noon, from there A servent walked in and brought us to A dinning hall along with quit the escort, I fear that we are more then short-term guest.

PS: Aoife misses you

- Truly, Andriv

Ruadhrí had his mind on it all morning, not only in fear of Andriv and the others safety, but also of Aoife. She was A colony member he, at first didnt put much thought in, but as time went on she proved she could handle herself and others, she was also versed in healing and herboligy and stopped multiple deaths from accuring, over time Ruadhrí had grone fond of her but not in A way he'd ever expirienced before, but he'd have to put more thought on it later, right now A choice needed to be made.

"Through the border of Sindria I lost many good men and women, if the khord border means we will have a better chance at avoiding that then I say we go through the mountains"

Arathea took more time to consider as discussion went through the party, she felt a knee jerk reaction hearing Rosariel in the background. I suppose it could be worse, should I tell her..? No no that would just make it more awkward for her. Maybe I should try to teach her how to better talk to someone without moments like... that, though I lack confidence she'd actually improve... she doesn't seem the type.

Antics involving socially awkward rat lovers aside there was other important things to attend to, specifically surrounding the guards on the Sylvari side of the border. Either way there would be trouble to go through but minimizing it would be wonderful, and Arathea had come up with an idea on exactly how to. She pondered for a moment before deciding to speak up again. "If I may, we can go to the military positions nearby and I can simply ask about Intel on Sylvari positions at the border. All they will care to know is that it involves a mission, obviously I am not their commander so I cannot order they clear the way but information?  I can get that no questions asked."

She was hoping to use her position and relative authority in the military to her advantage here, and secure an easy win. After all she had the authority to where even great commanders would bow to her when in her presence. We need to have as much information as we can reasonably acquire, the less the risk of a diplomatic disaster the better, and the higher chance we keep our lives.

As discussion went on, Arathea's mind went to the history of Syl's and Khords, once such good friends. Where did it all have to go wrong? Such arrogant pride and such great prejudice, our people once danced together, now we call eachother mortal enemies. What a tragedy... now here we are living the effects of useless bigotry.

…Does the term her’i’coia strike a chord?”

An eyebrow had raised at the mention of kormaguli, but at this her reaction was unmistakable.

“I thought it might,” Dak nodded…

She barely heard the rest, mind churning on the implications as she wordlessly turned, breakfast and conversation forgotten.

***

her’i’coia…. her’i’coia… “power over life”... what kind, though. Sendria has its reputation. But surely that's not connected to Lanalthir. The Bones will know more.. all the more reason to head south. And the chance at a kormaguli…. aikanaro…

Her feet carried on, mind at work elsewhere. A furrow and farsighted stare all the evidence of her rumination. The cid’s everpresent chatter didn't break through, but he hardly seemed to mind.

He may not know, but he has his suspicions. Sarigraamin, revealed too much without a word. Control.

The rest debated logistics, then began to fall in line. She remained contemplative, until finally a moment for an aside with their guide presented itself. Her hand grasping his arm for emphasis:

“taur'ohtar, an alternative proposal. Consider this, it is not just wildlands and border crossings to weigh. To those matters, I defer to your instincts. But that which we seek presents its own challenges, and in weighing those I trust you will give my instincts the same credence. We do not walk into some dormant mausoleum from which we may freely pluck dusty heirlooms. To proceed as such is to underestimate the crux of our task in the same manner you urge us not to underestimate the k'hoth. Superstitions or no, the only chance these tombs remain undisturbed a millennia onward is by design. I have my suspicions, my Uncle too, but we need more than guesses in this endeavor. Felarin is the key, its repository of arcane knowledge will yield both intelligence and further means–not just to overcome topography and the aboveground denizens, but also the danger that waits after–the greater danger, I'll wager. That is more than Hyanda Nost offers. You agree that Ertrain is preferable, albeit slower. Yet it remains the prudent path, and all distances are not equal. Like you, I would gladly trade a southerly tilt to our route if it maintains this forest over our heads for a greater part of the journey. And Felarin has resisted the Sendrians for a shorter time than our brothers, to be sure, but they have faced existential threat from the west for all of their short years, and they have clawed out their existence through arcane and more traditional means. It is both we too need. More so--my Uncle did not tell you everything… some, he did not reveal. Some, he certainly does not know. I would not blindly stumble into this endeavor when it was within my means to know more. There are members of my own Order who may aid in this respect. And others. I trust in you know of the… unique.. interests of the Order of Bone and Breath. I have strong reason to believe they may help us understand both what we seek and what we face. We must avail ourselves of every resource at our disposal. I would not neglect this aspect of our task any more than you would cast aside a tool or weapon in the wilderness. Prudence is Felarin. In the long run, prudence is almost always more expedient than haste, especially to us. What do we gain if we cross all those desolate leagues and find ourselves unprepared for the final measure. We gain nothing with haste and risk more.”

She realizes her fingers have dug into his bicep, revealing an intense earnestness not often shown, certainly not in so many words. Her throat is dry. He is looking at her, to her hand. She loosens it finally. They all are. Most in surprise, the cid with a tilt to his head, his usual smirk gone for a moment. 

So much for a discrete conversation. Sarigraamin…

She straightens her spine, shifts her weight back to her heels, smooths her robe and lifts her chin, eyes to the ranger, hers narrowing.

“Well?”

By the time the Cleric had made her way into the discussion, it was already underway, and so she listened closely, gathering information and asking a few questions where she could. From what she had gathered, there were three routes the group was considering, and each of them had its perils, but also, its potential rewards. She wasn't experienced in this kind of adventuring, though she had seen travel in her life. Combat strategy, what routes to travel into a country that most certainly wanted them dead, how to avoid knowledge of a secret mission escaping to their enemies. These were things the Sylvari had never considered when she planned the next town for Master Ignacio and herself to travel to. They seldom even had to take a detour.

But she did not like the sound of walking straight into hostile borders.

And even less did she like the idea of going to The Order of Bone and Breath for information.

She didn't believe that people were all evil or all bad. She could not deny though, that Necromancy was often used in foul ways, the magic of life and death, but many who dabbled in it failed to separate the two. They found death in life, or worse, life in death. Undeath. So the mere mention of the Order already caused Mae'rel to shift, but the idea of not only asking them for help, but giving them even remote knowledge of a mission the Lord had emphasized utmost secrecy on most certainly did not bid well with her. So she took that as her time to speak,

"Pardon me. I'm no warrior, the opposite, nor a ranger unlike yourself, Master Rain. But I have traveled before, and with all of our insight, I suppose I should at least offer my vote." She paused for a moment, making sure she hadn't interrupted any further details

(OOC: Assuming she may continue)

"I believe traveling directly through the border has its obvious risks. It will almost certainly be our most populated option throughout the actual route, and it likely means plenty Sylvari will observe us, though I still believe it's not our worst option" Nervously, she shifted herself once again, and continued, "I believe Felarin is the holder of that title. We would be speaking to others, at least partially, about our quest, risking information. Not to mention the perils of the Wood of Felarin, though I've always wanted to see them. Therefore, I agree with Master Rain. I believe our best, and only real option, is through the mountains, though it comes with its peril, I'm well aware."

The Sylvari would remain quiet now for a bit, allowing further discussion to be had. She was willing to hear points against her own, but she was quite set, and thankfully, in agreement with mostly everyone else it seemed, except the strange mage accompanying them. She was an interesting figure, no doubt, but she wasn't the only one Mae'rel was curious to learn more about.

"Quel amrun! I'm Rosariel. Are you well?"


Mae'rel didn't initially respond, thinking that the Huntress must have been speaking to someone else, but upon a glance, she noticed that she was, in fact, looking directly at her. She offered a small dip of her head, but she did find it a bit ironic how she'd essentially just said the equivalent of 'Hello! I'm Rosariel. Hello'. She did express this in a slight tilting of her head, though she did listen to her words as she spoke, 

24th Bre Taola, 452 E.R.
Forest east of Hyanda Nost

Seleliniel had been insistent and persuasive on her suggestion of veering south into the human lands; her desires to visit the fabled streets of Felarin were hardly hidden.  Nevertheless, Rainminainen had made a compelling case of his own to instead move west, to obtain intel from the soldiers of Hyanda Nost, and to then move into the Khordal mountains before turning south into Sendria.  Given that Lord Tansathil had apparently chosen the ranger specifically for his experience in moving undetected through various borders - to say nothing of the fact that the idea of avoiding unnecessary fights with the humans had broad appeal - the rest of the party were more inclined to go with Rainminainen's proposal.  Finding herself with no supporters, Seleliniel bit her tongue and gave in to the will of the group.

The Isil'nari estate was situated rather close to the Alloryen capital of Ela-Ishtel, and lay very near the center of the great forest in terms of east-west navigation.  As such, the journey to Hyanda Nost in and of itself was a good three week trip.  Rainminainen set a brisk pace, and while he often shunned anything approaching a road or well traveled path, he proved his worth right away at having a nigh-uncanny ability to pick out the best route through any given area.  The travel speed was good, though the days were long.  Fortunately, the provisions from the Isil'nari estate combined with the exceptional hunting and foraging efforts of both the taur'ohtar and the Huntress of Taudor Salka meant that the party always seemed to have plenty to eat.

The group mostly stayed single file when traveling through the great forest.  Rainminainen tended to range ahead of the group as he scouted, staying withing shouting range, for sure, but often moving beyond the line of sight of the rest.  The rest of the group stayed together, with Arathea leading, Mae'rel, Seleliniel, Rosariel, and Dak following, and the hulking form of Ruadhrí bringing up the rear.  While the party traveled mostly at ease, these were experienced souls, and no one kept a hand too far from a weapon.  The sylvari forests were relatively safe, but much of the territory they covered amounted to untouched wilderness, and the fact remained that one could never know exactly what one might encounter in such environs.

Late on the afternoon of the twenty-fourth day of Bre Taola, the party found themselves traveling a relatively rocky stretch of forest.  For the past couple of days, the terrain had been more rolling, with small streams tucked here and there between various ridges and cliffs.  

As the taur'ohtar moved quietly through the low brush, a pair of tracks caught his attention.  Morko, he thought to himself.  A big one, at that.  The group would need to be cautious; there was no sense provoking such a large bear.

Just as he began to turn, he gave a second glance at the tracks and realied that the indentation of the claws were too big to belong to even a great brown bear.  No, these belonged to...

A deafening screech broke the air a hundred yards or so behind the ranger as an eight foot tall creature constructed of fur, feathers, and seething hatred broke through the brushline in a full tilt charge into the midst of the party.

A foreboding chill ran up Dak’s spine as the creature’s shriek rent the air and reverberated through the trunks of the trees. The icy grip at the base of his skull tightened his shoulders (especially once he caught sight of the charging beast) but… blessings be to Ma Meil’s muffins… did nothing to still the little Cid’s feet. In the same instant that he recognized the threat, the halfling broke from formation and scampered away to find a place to hide.

I won’t be feeding myself to the likes of that, Dak mused, making himself as small and unobtrusive as he could manage and disappearing into the scrub of ferns and bushes, Not when there are far more substantial morsels to be had! Quel marth, melloneamin!

Slinking stealthily through the underbrush, the Shawlin kept one eye on the rampaging beast and set the other to searching out a likely tree to climb or, possibly, a rocky nook in which he might secret himself away from the creature’s sight.

((OOC: Dak is hoping to find a tree he can climb that will 1) keep him out of the critters reach and 2) provide him with a decent enough angle to allow him to attack or distract from above with darts. Should there be no such tree, option two is to keep moving through the brush (and keep out of the owlbear’s sight) taking attacks of opportunity if/when they present themselves. If he can find an alcove in the rocks somewhere, even better.))

Raising her hand against the late-tilting sun, she looks past the masked cleric’s right shoulder for the thing that no doubt accompanies the screech. See sees the lumbering hulk explode from the treeline at the crest of the hill, a cascade of boughs and branches with it, now barreling down on the group with growing speed. 

A dangerous grin breaks onto her face.

Finally - two weeks with these ba-seldarine clerics with nothing to kill but time and sarigrien patience.

Her hand darts to the charcoal robe, deftly finding the pocket she seeks, fingers sink into the fineground shavings. She segments her consciousness, half her mind visualizes the gesture with her left hand–ignoring the phantom pain that accompanies her focus–the other half judges distance, slope, speed, size… Focus narrows to a singular point, brows furrowed. No spare thoughts for the commotion around her, the bladesinger’s battlecry, the Bofear’s grunts mingle with the charging beasts’.

Only the beast, her feet, planted to meet it, knees slightly bent, the ever-shrinking ground that separates them.

A breath. You’re a big ontaro-n'ner ... Let’s remedy that.

Neld… atta… It only takes one more cantering bound to come in range, she can feel the tremors racing ahead of it, massive claws dig into the rocky soil, spraying debris as it tears the ground in a contortion of muscled rage and inevitable momentum.… er!

She grinds the ironpowder into the palm of her right hand, shavings and fingernails lacerating the skin. The remains of her left arm angle towards the careening monstrosity, her mind manifesting the somatic gesture of the unpresent hand while she whispers the inverted command, the sound at odds with the coiled energy in her body and mind and the kinetic world around her.

Softly, barely audible… 

“ai”

((Inverted Enlarge spell, which if successful will reduce mass/strength/damage))

Before she can judge the creature’s reaction, she is already reaching back into the folds to produce a smallcut citrine. The gemstone catches the fading sunlight, refracting a brilliant yellow pattern as she transfers it to her teeth, clenching her jaw around it, in her mind’s eye beginning the somatic gesture with her left hand, right palm out and upward, expectantly…

((If the owlbear either saves against the inverted enlarge spell or there are no other debuffs to the creature this round and her casting is uninterrupted through the next round, she will cast Chromatic Orb, consuming the yellow gemstone. If successful, it will cause blindness for 4 rounds and some damage. If reverse-enlarge hits and someone else debuffs, she will cast magic missile instead - sending all 3 missiles into the creature obviously))

((She will generally stand her ground but she is not suicidal or stupid. She will spare the bandwidth between casting to see what her companions are doing and react accordingly, she knows not to be on the front lines, but she also knows that it is others' job to keep her standing and she assumes if they are here, they know how to do their job, so she will do hers.))

((translations:
ba-seldarine = lit. “dead gods,” used by Seleniniel as rough equivalent of “god damn(ed)” 
sarigrien = slang for “f**king”
ontaro-n'ner = lit. “parents-less,” slang for bastard
ai = small
neld… atta… er = 3, 2, 1))