Thealora blinked and turned her head from Rose to the elf.

"Seal ourselves in?" She gulped and the color drained from her face. "Followed? Do you really think we are being followed?"

Those big blue eyes darted to the forest around them anxiously and again the memory of the large hairy creature rushing out of the brush flooded her senses.

"I didn't hear anything... Followed? ehhh... I don't want to be locked up in there though..." Turning her eyes again to the spider over the gateway.

"What if... what if whatever is following us isn't as bad as what is in there?" She whispers with a trembling voice as the possiblity that what she said might be true really begins to sink in with her.

Her hand reaches into the pocket of her cloak and curls around the small blue gem there as she shivers, looking up at the spider carving again and letting more prayers slip silently through her lips.

Eofara turned to look at the praying girl, maybe he was wrong to have scared her. It was not intentional but if your scared your less likely to take stupid risks.

(In Alcanese) "I'm not sure we are being followed, but I am sure that if we are then it won't be by someone who wishes us well."
His mind slipped back to the square with the execution, what he was going to say might not be the right thing to say but he would say it anyway.

(In Alcanese) "We don't have any allies, the tribe that those dead gnolls belong to will want revenge and your church has put a price on our capture. If a crowd bays for blood at an execution I am sure there is someone willing to take coin to capture those being executed.
Eofara did not get a very good first impression of human society, it had left bitter tast in his mouth. The girl had no place here but he'd make sure that she wasn't hurt, maybe frightning her out of this insane ask was the best thing to do.

(In Alcanese) "Who has the gem, we all decided we would come here and do what was needed back at the city, I think as this is a dwarf city then it should be a dwarf that first unlocks it secrets."

The girl stared up at the spider, listening to Eofara's words again. As he spoke her lips stopped moving in prayer and her bottom lip began to tremble. By the time he stopped speaking tears were welling in her eyes and spilling across her cheeks.

"Not my church!" She shook her head and looks at Eofara pained. "Not mine... Lady Mirros would never foresake anyone, my church is of love and mercy, for all, even for those who do not believe, not death and torture in the name of 'truth'" She spit on the ground at that, a blush crossing her cheeks as she did in embarassment.

"Not my church..." She whispered again and looked at him as she bit her bottom lip some before speaking more. "And I'm not completly ignorant... I know there are things out there that..." she cannot bring herself to say that there are things that would wish to harm her so she moves on. "But... but..." Her voice raises as she brings a finger toward the spider, "There's a SPIDER in there! An eight legged hairy... terrible beast with fangs and poison! Spiders eat their prey while they are still alive!"

Turning from Eofara she reaches for Rose and holds her as she starts crying against the stronger woman's dented breast plate. "Don't make me go in there... I don't want to be eaten!" she wails.

How can you have a god of love and mercy without accepting one of pain and suffering. With light come shadows so you must accept both. Philosophy aside his words had had the desired effect. The girl seemed terrified of spiders anyway so having the conversation infront of a giant one that made himself feel jumpy. Fear can be a powerful aid but this might have backfired slightly as he'd made out that the woods were not safe because of the gnolls.

He took a step towards Thea.

(In Alcanese) "All of us were needed to fend of the gnolls, there is no chance that just two of us would be able to defend ourselves. You chose to help that man back at the city, I'd say the group staying together and going into the tunnel is a lot safer then anything else."
If nothing else this whole episode would open her eyes and help her grow up, it would prove a very valuable lesson to the girl.

Agrin looked up at the sound of the linen-wrapped packet landing lightly on the grass in front of him. His eyes stopped on the packet of rations for a moment before catching the Mith’Ganni staring at him. Instinctively, Agrin’s jaw tightened and his fingers turned white, at least, whiter than normal, while he gripped the edges of his leather pack. The pity in the man’s eyes was almost more than he could bear. But Agrin Stoneoath hadn’t been sent in the convoy to the lower lands because he was impatient or incorrigible. It was not a punishment as he had often thought of it since leaving the beautifully simple hold of Hamar under the mountains.

Agrin was considered accepting and diplomatic for a Krosan, which was a nice way of saying he did not often resort to cutting the toes off any tall-folk who looked at him. He was not incompetent and knew that this was a simple gesture for him to accept; it was necessary for him to continue to eat and if the Mith’Ganni wanted to give him a day’s worth then Agrin would not deny him. Charity was not unknown to Krosan, despite the belief outside of their mountains, and Agrin had given enough to know how hard it may be to accept.

So he gritted his teeth and, with a slight incline of his chin, acknowledged the ‘gift’ from the ranger. Agrin could still barely stand the sight of the creature but he would repay the debt. Perhaps he would use something other than a curse to call upon the ranger.

Agrin stuffed the packet into his pack and pulled out the already opened one to finish a meal of drying cheese and thick, unleven bread. His mind raced with thoughts about the coming tasks and arguments about going home alone today rather than remaining in this cursed forest any longer. Any logical trek towards a judgment of leaving always ignored the task he had been sent from his mountains and so were defeated before they even began. There was no way he could return without the cure for this witching disease and there was no possibility of coming across it on his own, especially while hunted by these backwards humans.

The crunch and rattle of armour in front of him startled Agrin from his thoughts and he jerked his chin up to meet the human, Rose.

“Good Krosan, I know not if you’ve the means, but I know your kind have the knowledge and skill in crafting weapons and armor, more so than I could likely learn in a lifetime. If you’d be willing and able to repair my armor, I’d be more than happy to try and pay you,” she said. Although Agrin could hear the effort in her voice, as if asking him for help was a difficult task, he thought she was sincere in her request. He reached forward and picked up the scaled mail tunic. There was a large dent and tear in the armor where she had taken a wound in the battle with the gnoll creatures. He would, normally, be able to repair such a break without much trouble. But here, with limited tools, it would be nigh impossible.

“Ye are a fair one, for a Syln, and I would be obliged to trade my skills fer yer coin or rations. ‘owever, despite yer thoughts o’ me, ah’m fair, too, and Ah cannae repair this here. Not without tools, anyways, and ah didn’t exactly think they’d be the best thing t’ bring on this little hike,” Agrin said in reply. He didn’t have much, besides what he now owed the elf, but he couldn’t promise something he couldn’t deliver.

“If tools arrive, or some other means by which ah can make this tear whole, ah will repair your mail for an appropriate amount o’ compensation,” he said, handing back the dented mail.

The paladin simply nodded and moved off to complete her morning rituals and so did Agrin. He thought he heard that fool elf pipe up about hunting down gnolls that remained in the area but from the sounds of things, the women of the group were for pushing forward and Eofara was the long supporter of remaining in the forest.

Agrin silently recalled some scriptures from the recesses of his memory to recite during their hike and shouldered his pack. Joseph, the woodsman, and his wolf lead the group as they crashed through the forest. Agrin knew that anyone seeking them would have little trouble in following the wide path they left. He would deal with that scenario when it came.

Four hours later and they faced the ruins of Gurit’Marnairan. Agrin’s sigh was the only outward indication of the disappointment he felt looking upon the great works of stonemasons that had fallen into such disrepair. Agrin took mental notes on the construction of the exterior. It was more Duskarn than anything, with a relatively low height.

The whole building was typically dwarven except for the carved spider covering the entrance. Spiders were normally creatures to be driven off by dwarven inhabitants. They multiplied too fast and the largest species could be hunting for small humanoids. Even the smaller kinds could be venomous, though this was more of a concern for softer skins.

Agrin ran his hands over the carving, inspecting it carefully. There were eight large holes that may once have held gems. Looters and thieves had long pried these loose. Agrin’s jaw tightened as he thought what the entrance may have once appeared to a strange company and how soft skins had come to steal the treasures of the masons who had created such a construct in perfect, if odd, harmony with the earth.

One socket, however, was different. It seemed to be a keyhole of some sort. It might disable some sort of trap or give indication of friendly patrons at the door.

Agrin turned back to the others to tell of what should be searched for nearby but they were engrossed in an argument about whether or not they should enter and if they should bar the doors to prevent pursuit.

“Ah do nae know why ye think so adamantly that we’re bein’ pursued at every turn, elf, but ah do nae see it bein so. We’d be easy pray fer any large party o’ the law and the gnolls that ye seem to want to touch an’ lick so badly would’ve caught us quicker than a boulder down a mountain if they’d so wished so stow yer trap fer a minnit,” he said, growing gruffer with every breath. “And ye, ninny. We be goin’ in the dark and ye can carry yer torches if it makes ye feel better. Stayin’ out ‘ere be ignorin’ the path set before us worse than goin’ in, so we go in. A spider on the door o’ a dwarf hold is odd but it don’t mean there be a million o’ the blasted creatures round the first corner.”

“This ‘ere looks t’ be a keyhole o’ some sort. There might be a keystone nearby that unlocks th’ door. We should find it an’ get inside afore the gnolls or the spiders come an’ get us fer bein’ pussyfoots aboot it.”


(Sorry for being like 4 weeks late. Exams and then I just plain forgot about it haha!)