Chapter 2, Days 8-10

"Well, we're still alive, so we must be doing something right! Where to next?"

"We need to find the elves, who should be around here," says Pawetha, looking up at the sky and around the marsh. She looks around for a Small Beast she can chat with.

Zaris moves to stand next to Kaiakas scanning the horizon himself. "Do you reckon this is the only one?" he asks quietly. "I have an unnerving feeling that these things travel in groups." He pulls out his wand and twirls it around in his hand. "We need to find the elves, and we need to find them soon," he says to the group.

"I think if we stay here, there will be more." I nod in agreement with Zaris. "We need to leave. Find the elves of this land."

"Trying to find you, actually! Or the elven settlement, that is. We're looking for allies. Not sure if you've heard, but we have a goblin problem. And a dragon problem. This owl thing was dead when we got here."

Pawetha expected a smaller beast, but shows no disappointment as she spies the giant owls appearing like silent ghosts. Rather, her expression is one of mixed wonderment and jealousy. She pays no mind to the speaking elves and spends her time admiring the owls from where she stands by the dragon-thing's corpse.

"Master Elf, as you can see we are far from dead, unlike the beast that killed one of your mighty steads. And if the goblin horde that Xara mentioned isn't dealt with, there will be far more than this one casualty in the marshes." Ghunril bows to the Elf, "I am Ghunril of Clan Ophinshtalajiir, I joined my comrades at Drelin's Ferry when the oncoming horde blocked my path back to my clan. We have come seeking your help in removing a road block the horde established east of here.

May we have the benefit of your name?"

"Ghunril saw the army with his own eyes! We're talking about an organized horde of goblins and other nasties. Allied with dragons. I killed one of them but who knows how many more there are!"

Pawetha briefly takes her eyes off the majestic owls to look at the elf. The group seems to be handling the diplomatic part well enough to not need her involvement, and her own rough-and-tumble attitude would likely frighten the elves off (to her mind). She approaches the gathering, steering herself to proximity and vantage to admire the owls once again.

The ranger doesn't know if these giant owls are anything like their smaller cousins and can understand her, but she breathlessly whispers under her breath, "...you're pretty..."

Hoping to improve things, I step forward. "Please, we mean no disrespect. What has been said is true. The only reason we came here was to seek your help against an army of goblins and dragons." I take out the painting of Tiamat while beckoning for the map with goblin notes on it, presenting both to the elves. "This is our foe. This is why we need you."

"What problems do you have? Perhaps they are connected? Zaris asks.

Pawetha approaches the slain owl, touching the feathers like one mourning the passage of majesty. She touches the coffer with the tip of her boot and looks around to see if it was secured on the ground, or could have possibly been part of the owl's possessions.

Pawetha catches Xara's attention, tipping her head sideways to point her to the item on the ground.

She then steps away to draw attention and approaches Killiar, looking up past the owl (though her eyes flit occasionally to admire the face). "I am Pawetha Foxfur Fenniklock Spriglan, Treeguard of the Mossgrove," she says, lowering her fox-headed hood to reveal a disheveled mop of black hair tangled with small twigs and leaves. "I humbly thank you for your invitation."

The ranger finishes her thanks with a bow, eyes downward.