A New Begining

Evening 22nd of Sunebb,

After a quick search for survivors and useable gear in Tarwin’s Gap the intrepid adventures moved onto Fal Mor’an. With the unrelenting heat of the day the decision was made to start rationing water, as no water was found in town. The wells of the Gap were dry and as to make matters worse, many of the bodies of the town’s people had been unceremoniously dropped into the wells.

The journey to Fal Mor’an took two long and hot days. Dragging into Fal Mor’an, the sight was the same. Glok moving ahead to scout on the back of his mighty worg Zabnik noticed survivors with in the town. Thinking it wise to inform the group he returns back to the party. As the group enters the town the sight is the same, burnt and ruined. People seem to move as if in a daze to the newcomers. Rags are all that cover the survivors. A few children huddle close to what might be their parents. Again buildings are collapsed and burnt out shells. Camp is set and a few members of the caravan go out to talk to the remaining people in town.

What is discovered is that a large group of Hobgoblin and worg riding goblins came in about three weeks prior and destroyed the town. The consensus seems to be that the war band was no more than 40 and no less than 20 warriors. Whoever didn’t play dead or run into hiding was thrown into irons and hauled off to the west somewhere into the mountains. After some consideration and talk amongst the group they decided to try and go for Drellin’s Ferry in the morning and bring as many as the refugees as possible, about twenty in all, mostly women and children. If they were to stay, they would assuredly die of starvation or exposure as the days are only getting warmer.

The next morning was an early start as the travel time to Drellin’s Ferry was about eighty miles. By Boyd’s best estimate, it would take them about four days to reach Drellin’s, with the refugees about six. Glok coming to the camp fire next to the wagon sit and gathers the group. You surmise that the refugees are sticking to themselves as you can clearly tell the children whimper anytime Glok get near and the Dark Man gazes in their direction.

Through an impossible under bite, “We run low on food and water. Food I tried to do something about…” lifting a skinny possum. “…the land has been picked clean. This clutch band has scoured the land and raped away its ability to provide for us.” Glok spitting onto the bone dry dirt.

With the dim light of the sigils swirling around his head, just lighting enough to see a sparkle in his eyes below his brow, Dark Man squats near the fire and says, “There is much death and suffering in this land, it is thick in the air” As he raises his nose to the sky and draws in a large deep breath. Those we have seen have gone before their time. My chest burns with those that must pay for their transgressions,” As he rubs a hand over his tattooed chest.

“I think we need to be very careful here. Glok have you seen any sign of the hobgoblins or the goblin riders?” asks Kulin.

Glok shakes his head, “nothing.”

“It might be good to assume that Drellin’s might be in the same condition as the last two towns, what do you think Boyd?” ask Kulin

“Well there might not be any money in this trade route if there are no longer any towns along the route. We should pick up the Dawn’s Way soon. Travel will be much faster then,” states Boyd.

Glok grunts, “It could be that they have not entered the forest yet. It is much harder for raiding bands to enter forests where they can be detected more easily and prepared aginst. It is slower moving for larger groups in the forest and I don’t see them using the road.”

“lets us call out to them and bring them to us so we can split their skulls,” Brander smiling through an immensely thick beard.

“We need to get to a town to get these people to safety and replenish our goods, then we can decide what to do,” Boyd states.

The caravan enters what the map calls the Elsir Vale on the afternoon of the fifth day. Leaving the great sea of dry, windblown grass and entering a vale of slightly more green rolling hills and the Witchwood beyond.

According to Brandar the Dawn’s Way appears to be an old dwarven road of cobblestone. He tells the party that it could be in the upwards of over 400 years old. While moving on the Dawn’s way the party travels rather quickly. According to the map the party enters the Witchwood at about dusk and sets camp for the night.

As the morning peels away the evening’s darkness the Witchwood seems to live up to its namesake. The thickly packed forest keeps in the night’s moisture resulting in a mysterious ground fog that puts the first chill in the air that no one has felt since leaving Hochoch.

Shortly after the caravan gets moving again they are ambushed by a several hobgoblins and a couple of fire breathing mastifs. After a short battle and bandaging a few wounds they reach Drellin's Ferry at night fall at the end of the sixth day since leaving Fal Mor'an.

The journey continues...