3. Fungal Cave

No idea how we "deliver it" without getting attacked. Hunting was your idea, mine was delivering wine in a trough. But as I said - I have no idea what's better and as Faramos said - we can't trust orc to be too much knowledgeable ant true.
I mean - I see no reason we can't drop some good meat into the wine.

Nindia don't understand how Faramos hopes to force Orcs do anything or how he could order fungi to attack orcs. She volunteer to keep watch while Korena, agreeing with her caution.

Brenda goes to find some wood for the trough. She came back with some bruises and superficial cuts, but did it.

Nindia can also use that Quarter Day to learn a new talent, if you succeed in a Wits check. Please roll =)

Nindia spend few hours remembering the last fight with orcs and considering how would she better distract enemy with her insults. Hopefully Korena don't wake up to hear human throwing insults in the air

Faramos was relived that he finally was able to leave the cave and get back to the forest.
"Maybe not so dwarf-like... but I don't care. Probably it's this fungus aura." - he thought to himself when he realized that as a dwarf he should feel in cave like at home. But soon he was engulfed with the trill and pleasure of the hunt and stopped to be concerned about such things. Only his pray counted now.

After few hours of marching through the forest, looking for tracks, sometimes even sniffing the air as some kind of seasoned hound... finally Faramos get near some depression in the terrain, knowing well that those - due increased humidity - have sometimes tasty for animals clamps of vegetation. Then he saw him: bid, majestic deer male standing a little above him, in the clearing on depression edge.

"This forest... sometimes feels like trying to kill me... sometimes it is very generous... mighty generous... thank you..." - Faramos touched the ground with some gentleness and then put an arrow on his recently acquired bow. Having no time to practice with it... the first shot missed the deer by quite a distance. But to his surprise the deer made a loud howl, but didn't move too far. Running towards deer Faramos was putting another arrow on the bow... stand still and made another shot... this time the arrow flew directly at his target, killing it instantly.

Only after getting close Faramos realized that deer leg was stuck in some strange vegetation and that was what allowed him to succeed on this hunt. Leaving Faramos HIGHLY unsatisfied from this hunt... at least he tested the bow.

Springrise, 11th day.
Almost Evening
Faramos, as you're returning to the cave from your hunt, you see an old and partially overgrown well amid the dense vegetation. It does not have a pulley, but the rotten remains of its wooden cover and a bucket lie scattered among the tussocks that surround it.

---

Nindia, this quarter of a day is uneventful. The cave is suspiciously quiet.

Faramos stops surprised. A well in the middle of the forest. Suspicious. Faramos looks around with tensed senses, still having the deer thrown over his back and arms. He notes the well location in his mind and thinks: "Could be useful in case the water in the cave is not good for drinking."

Then tries to continue his trek towards the cave making as little noise as he can.
"That was too good hunt, to waste it for some another ghost..."

Whatever secrets the forest held, they weren’t worth spoiling a day’s hunt. So Faramos kept his senses alert—old instincts told him that suspicious things often came in pairs—but nothing stirred behind him.

By the time the familiar mouth of the cave came into view, the sky above had faded to deep indigo, the first stars beginning to peek through. Evening had settled in properly by the time he arrived, the scent of cool stone and damp air greeting him as he descended into the dim tunnels. The faint flicker of torchlight from within told him the others were still awake, likely waiting for his return.

Nindia used to help order sisters know to keep her mouth shut and patiently help Faramos with any minor task he would find for her, even if he just ask to give him a water to drink.

Meanwhile, Brenda cooks roughly half of the deer for them, leaving 2 units of meat for the purple monster.

She also offers some for Korena, that politely refuses. The half-elf thanks Brenda for the offer but says she has her own rations.

Faramos returned from the hunt very happy and enthusiastic - as it was clearly his best catch since the have left Willowbrook. A lot of meet and some very good pelts. He gave the meet he gutted from the deer to Brenda for some cooking and almost immediately went to another work: making a trough from one of the three trunks Brenda has hauled from the forest.

At first the work went good. Faramos has found some flint and he used is as a chisel. Using the timber axe's head's other end as hammer. He chopped away quite a chunk of it, but soon started getting irritated, as the work looked as one that will take much more time than he thought. His moves started to be faster, but much more tense. That was the first time he hit his hand rather than the flint. He roared loudly... bite his libs with fury and determination... and started to hit the flint even faster. What could bring only one result: in the shape of another hit - this time at his thumb, another roar and angry toss of the trunk at near wall... braking it in half.

After few... looong breaths, sitting on the ground with back bend, trying to calm down... feeling that everyone in the depot chamber is looking at him with a mix of being surprised and amused... Faramos finally stood up, and said with feigned indifference: "This was fine day for hunting... but... I must still learn a lot about crafting... Now I'm going to sleep."

Nindia sigh and talk to Brenda when Faramos don't hear them: The dwarf need to learn to delegate some of the work to others, I was watching him work all the time and never done anything. Maybe just made him nervous watching. I'm so sorry. Anyhow...
Morning is wiser than evening - as my mother used to say.

Before going to sleep Nindia (after consulting with Brenda) would take half of the raw meat and put it into the barrel with spoiled wine (if that is possible to do) over night

After getting up after night of quite good sleep, Faramos said with newly gained strengths and clearance of the mind:
"So we try again with the trough Nindia? Maybe this time you will lead and I will hold the trunk? Your fingers seam to be much more dexterous then mine?"

Springrise, 12th day.
Morning
The next morning, Nindia approached the barrel with an apprehensive gaze, bracing herself against the tang of spoiled wine that had only grown stronger overnight. She lifted the lid carefully and peered in. The chunks of raw meat floated in the murky wine, their surfaces having taken on a sickly grayish hue, faintly swollen from soaking. Thin tendrils of pink-red fat and sinew curled off from the edges, swirling slowly through the thick, soured liquid.

The meat looked limp and bloated, stripped of its fresh texture, and had absorbed the heavy, vinegary odor of the spoiled wine. A few small bubbles rose from the depths of the barrel, popping faintly on the surface—a clear sign of fermentation beginning to work on the meat. Nindia wrinkled her nose, both relieved and uneasy; the concoction looked perfectly repellent, just as Graknok had implied would suit the violet fungus. She replaced the lid with a grimace, glancing over her shoulder at Brenda.

"Well, this should do it," said Brenda. "Maybe we don't need the trough. Just put the other meat in there and give it the whole barrel."

How do you mean give the whole barrel? Nindia don't believe she can do that.