The Lion's Way

Happy is glad to be back among friends. Its flame brightens up and crackles cheerfully, spreading both physical and emotional warmth as the hobgoblin zombie totters on its way.

Araklusta sent a note to yaroto98

With Aiwe taking some time to set up misleading trails, Ossein catches up to the others without much trouble. Wirrow leads the group true, avoiding the road and heading north. as they go, they find no sign of the armored or hooded ambushers from the previous night. By midday they arrive at the area where they split from the rest of the party. From what they can piece together from the tracks, it looks like the others followed Aiwe's instructions to keep off the road. Their trail leads further north.

Aiwë is laying a false trail a short distance of from her companions when she notices a peculiar smell. Granted, between Keggruk's corpse and the animated archer, not to mention sweat from so much exertion over the last 24 hours, her nose has become inured to unpleasant smells. This is something different.

Then the tree next to her begins to move.

No, not a tree. What she had taken for moss-covered trunk and branches are actually a large creature. Its head turns around to regard her, and she catches a glimpse of bloodshot eyes, a large nose, and vicious teeth. Troll. It seems to have actually stabbed itself in the shoulders with branches full of leaves to give the extra appearance of a tree.

"Duul morakte ztein!" Its voice is a burbling rasp, and Aiwë catches the carrion stench of its breath.

The troll lets out a wet roar, for though Aiwe's magic doesn't find a good hold, never has this monster come across magic that could directly attack its mind.

Aiwe slips away and begins running. Behind her, she can hear the troll moving.

"Blod unst fliegen!"

There is the sound of rocks rolling and tumbling. A quick glance behind her shows shows a second troll pulling itself free from the earth. This one had apparently been disguised as a boulder.

Roaring and stomping, the two smelly green giants give chase!

With the trolls handled, the group sets out again following the other party's trail. The afternoon sun begins its inevitable dip to the west, heralding the approach of evening. The heat and humidity and hours of exertion weigh heavily on the group - other than Ossein and his new friend, who don't seem to mind - and once again they must steel themselves if they are to continue to journey through the night.

They continue on with renewed determination as the sun begins to fall behind the western horizon, but Wirrow navigates with uncanny skill. Here is where a wounded party member brushed up against a bush, and here is where someone changed their bandages. And here is where they stopped to look at a... a what? The prints are cloven, like a deer's or elk's, but far larger and heavier.