Murni smiles and says in a casual tone as he takes the shovel, "no, that suits me just fine.  I'm itchin' to get a move on myself."

He goes into the house and gathers his belongings.  He takes a last glance over at Mina, and then goes and accepts the trail package from her gratefully.

"Thank you much, Mistress Saffy," he says as turns to leave the house, and then continues is a somber tone, "I hope that I see you again."

Once out on the porch, he ties the shovel onto his backpack.  He adjusts his equipment and backpack, and then goes and meets with Farel.

The return journey is considerably shorter, and you arrive back at the Longfurrow farm well before noon. Farel finds a spot near the remains of the house and begins digging a grave for Weel.

"Damn shame - good man, good family. His sons... they'll be having a time of it I'm afraid. What are your plans, lad?"

Murni settled into digging a grave, and removed his shirt which revealed many scars crisscrossing his torso and shoulders.  He starts digging methodically to conserve his energy.

At least I have a shovel to dig this grave today, Murni thinks to himself as memories of burying others flood to the forefront of his mind.

Murni looks up at Farel while digging and says, "aye, hopefully they're still alive.  My plan is to find the trail, follow it, and find Weel's sons.  I'll take stock again if I've made it that far."

Farel nods as he continues to dig.

"It's quite a thing, for a stranger from the East to take up a cause that should rightfully be borne by their family and friends. You look to have lived a hard life, and I won't pry more than would be expected, but I want you to know that you don't have to do this. Once Brownhop gets done with his rounds, I'll be meeting with the other family heads to plan for defense of the farms and to organize an expedition."

He pauses and wipes his brow with a rag from his pocket, then leans on his shovel.

"That said, having eyes on the ground and a knowledge of the lay of the land would help make the expedition more - effective. I can't stop you from doing what you feel needs to be done, but I can ask that you not take any actions that might further endanger the boys. If you can get them out... well, that's all and good, and it would be appreciated. Just know we're only going to be a day or so behind you."

With that, he resumes digging.

Murni jams the head of his shovel into the ground, takes out his handkerchief, and wipes his head and face.  

"You're a good man, Farel," he says as he looks up, squinting in the brightness of the midmorning sun, "I was a slave for many years, and was treated cruelly.  That's how I got these scars."

He sighs and continues, "I can't change what's been done, but what's right is right.  I'd like to think that I'm no fool, Farel.  I'll try to find them, and do what I can by those boys.  If I can do anything at all, depending on how many Black Claws' there are in their group."

He shifts so that the sun is out his eyes, looks Feral in the eyes, and says confidently, "no, if I can't do anything by myself, then I'll drop back and hook up with you and the others.  Although, you shouldn't leave your farms unguarded.  This could be a prelude to an ambush of all the farmsteads in the area."

After another hour of work, the hole is filled and prayers are said. Farel rests on a nearby stump and puffs on his pipe.

"Ok, I guess this is where we part ways for now. Before you go, take this..."

He fishes a small jar of clear paste, like Saffy used, from his pack and hands it to you. (Heals 1d6 (+1d6/24Hrs)), 5 applications)

"I'll take a bit to look around here, see if maybe there are any more clues, then I'm back to the farm before dark. If all goes well, by this time two days from now we'll be coming along behind you. Maybe with a bit of luck, we'll meet you on the way back with the boys."

He clasps your forearm nods tersely.

"Give 'em hell, son."

"Thank you," Murni says genuinely to Feral as he clasps the gnome's arm, "and thank Mistress Saffy for me.  I hope to see you both again soon enough."

He puts his shirt and breastplate back on, and checks the straps to make sure that his breastplate is fitted well enough.  He puts on his backpack and adjusts the straps correctly.  Once he's satisfied with his preparations, he gives one final nod to Feral and starts traveling in the direction of the muddy foot prints are pointed.

Fortunately, the ground is still damp enough to retain footprints for a good way up the trail, and with your mind focused on your task at hand you find that the journey is swift. Before you know it, it is almost dark...

You can probably continue tracking, although without a light source it will be pretty difficult. Or you can camp for the night and continue in the morning. (I'd show you on the map where you are but I don't have it handy - figure you're about 1/2 way into the hex just north of the farm.)

Seeing that his ability to continue is only going to get worse, Murni starts looking for a suitable spot to camp for the night.  Once he finds a good spot, he sets out his bedroll and his loaded crossbow right next to it.  He settles down to rest for as long as he can.  He will try to get up before dawn's first light and be prepared to move as soon as he polices his camp area.  He finds a branch with leaves and uses it to stir up his tracks and sleeping spot in the ground.

You settle in for the night, grabbing a bite to eat before dozing off for a bit...

(Perception roll please)

OOC: Murni's Perception check = 8.

You doze off, weary from a couple of days of hard work and travel, and with fresh-baked (well, day old) bread in your tummy. You dream fitfully of dark underground places and dancing lights...

Muttering voices, high-pitched and familiar - there are goblins in the dark. Nasty, grasping little creatures, always fighting each other for scraps of this and bits of that, trying to secure favor with their masters. The squabbling grows louder, and you realise - slowly - that this might not be a dream...

Suddenly, you snap awake - the chittering, gibbering voices stop, but there is no mistaking that smell. They are there, staring at you... five of them.



They are armed with short, chopping weapons, much like meat cleavers, and they seem to have been trying, unsuccessfully, to rummage through your gear without waking you. Their beady red eyes are easy to make out in the darkness.

One of them snorts - "Get 'im, boyos!"

(Initiative roll please)

Didn't see an OOC thread for your game, but if you have room I wouldn't mind joining up. Sorry if I'm intruding, let me know if ya have an OOC thread I'm just not seeing.

Nope, we just kinda jumped right in, convention be damned. You're welcome to join. I think I gave the guidelines up-thread. this might be a good time for you to put in an appearance, actually, maybe drawn by the sounds of battle or whatnot.