Chapter Three - Return to the Mournland

As Vice focuses in on the memory of the mists’s vision, he is fairly certain that the deck the old woman was using is not the same deck as the one in his pack. Both decks have the same have the same cards. However, the artwork on the cards is just different enough to show his pack is a more traditional design and less used than the one used in his vision. As he looks over the cards, the flashes of vague futures, but defined outcomes continue to appear. As he gazes upon the Goddess card, he experiences tunnel vision and the faintest sound of feedback.

The memory of the fortune teller’s grin is vivid in his mind’s eye. The gnome is left to wonder if the woman’s talent was passed on to him, or if something else happened.

Meepo takes his last empty vile and trys to scrape up as much of the layer of goo as he can into it. He then notices Virtue and checks on her pulse to make sure that she is still alive after we came through the mist and relays what he finds to those that are not in the carriage before making his way to the items left behind and examining them more closely.

As Torhak emerges from the mists and shouts, his mark still stinging. He is surprised to realize the voice is still there, "Thank you.", the voice replies.Meepo attempts to scrape the goo off the shield and instead finds his vial stuck firmly to the shield. Underestimating its properties, it takes the kobold a moment to remove the vial. Once in his hand, the substance is now also on the outside of the container and is stuck firmly to his small hand. However, he does now have beaker full of if this incredibly sticky, viscous fluid.

At Laulalith's question, Dubdub shakes his head. The man is looking very tired as well. He gestures to a ring on his left hand, "I haven't seen the visions in some time now. Though the spirits still try. Yes, some may be helpful. Others may drive you mad pondering their truth. Some are flat out lies."

He considers the elf's vision of the enormous warforged, "Sounds like a warforged colossus. The most terrible invention of Cyre. Thankfully few were completed and none survived intact on the Day of Mourning. However, I am aware of one that survives, trapped in the Grey. Your friends' attackers discovered it a few months ago. I have heard rumours of the existence of at least seven that remain.", he taps that lens the four of them sit upon with his staff. "This crystal was to be used in one of those things' arcane turrets. I've witnessed one incinerate an entire army. It's none of my business why a group of scrappers have it. You seem like good people, but I would be wary of anyone with the means to use it.", the druid closes his eyes and tries to make himself comfortable.

Kalli bids the group farewell and wishes her best to Virtue and Leith. Then, she and Stella begin trotting north and west toward the coast of Lake Arul. 37 pushes the throttle forward and the lightning sizzles to life. He turns the cart south and into the forest. The Grey Mists disappear from view as they enter the dense trees.

The Axe Beak and Giant Hyena vanish as the sun rises, their purpose served. In the comfort of the cart, Leith immediately falls asleep, finally having a chance to recuperate from the extreme stress of the past few days. Dubdub, likewise is snoring within a few minutes.

Virtue stirs fitfully and awakens with a start. Even in the golden light of the sunrise, her skin has an unnatural, grey pallor, as if she were still in the Mournland. Far too weak to struggle against her bonds, her glowing red eyes wander the cart's cabin till she sees Vice. "I saw her... she's beautiful...", she croaks sleepily. "I'm so thristy..."

37 keeps an excellent pace. The road is windy and slow going sometimes.

By mid afternoon, the warforged has traversed a great deal of the forest. The forest often thickens so much that the daylight is nearly choked out. The trees themselves move unnaturally out of the corner of the eye. Stories of treants are often shared by those who venture off the path of the Thornwood. 37 can't shake the feeling that somehow they are being followed. In the cart, Leith continues to sleep. Meepo and Vice get their rest as well. Eventually, Virtue falls asleep. She tosses fitfully , often murmuring in undercommon. Vice notices her skin turned ice cold. In the wagon, Laulalith and Torhak do their best to stay comfortable. Dubdub seems unbothered by the situation and snores loudly.

Despite the unease, the trip is surprisingly pleasant. Wild game is abundant. Woodland creatures scurry across the turnpike and chatter loudly at 37. Life giving waters flow in steams and keep the forest lush and green. There are no bridges here, but none of the creeks are too deep to traverse. As they approach one such crossing, 37 is greeted by a very large tree-like creature with glowing blue eyes on the side of the road. Hunched over, the creature still stands taller than the cart.