"Though the horses are tired, it's best to keep moving with all of this fog creeping in. At least, until we can find a more defensible campsite."

Semina permits Icerick to circle the swampy clearing as the fog rises to an uncomfortable level.  She listens as a breeze gently flows for any left over howls lingering in the wind.  

"It has been awhile since any cries were heard," Semina faces the party.  "The last  I could decipher were orders for the wolves to watch the road as we kept flight."  

Semina cautiously dismounts Icerick to allow him a break from the journey.  "It has been over an hour," she glances over her horse.  "I believe they will not pursue."  

Semina inspects Icerick,  lifting his hoofs in search of rocks or small sticks embedded by mud.  "If we continue, should we lead the horses through the fog?" she looks towards Thraim.  "They are weary from the run, and I am not sure camping here would be wise."

As Semina walks around Icerick she notices a pathway leading towards a hill. "Thraim," she turns to the dwarf. "while we rest a moment, there is a faint pathway leading towards higher ground," she points through the fog.

Thraim dismounts as well and says, "walking the horses out is a good idea after that long run and this chilly weather.  We don't want them cramping up on us right now, especially if that wolf pack shows up again."

Turning to Heathcliffe Thraim says, "Heathcliffe, do you think you could scout out that trail ahead of while we walk the horses out behind you?"

"In these suroundings and with those shadows we saw, I do not trust this to be a simple fog. Stay within sight of the group."

Semina watches as Heathcliffe tiptoes in and out of the fog scouting the pathway towards the hill.  She notices nothing attacking from the sides, but the fog still disturbs her thoughts.  She grabs Icerick's reins and pulls him on the path of darkness.  

Exhausted from running for the last few hours, nothing would make Semina more content then dry clothes and a full stomach.  She rushes her steed up the hill to find suitable place to rest her bones for the night.

As she approaches Heathcliffe from behind, Naren's warning skip around in her head.  'Better beware of all outlets incase the fog become unfriendly,' she considers as she climbs the hill.

(OCC:  Sorry guys but I would like to move the game along a little faster.  If anyone has an issue please advise me, and I will slow down again.  Also SB: Once I reach the hill, am I able to see anything via the other side, or are we considered blind for the night?)

The hill is swathed in fog, covered to about three quarters of its height.  The top is fairly clear, but it is somewhat hazy due to the mist in the air.  All you can see clearly is the crest of the hill; beyond that, you can make out only vague tree-like shapes through the miasma.

"We camp here, then?"

(If the answer is positive, Naren will begin laying down calltrops on all sides, with the exception of the path)

Heathcliffe does as instructed by Thraim, looking back occassionally to make sure he is not seperated. He seems visibly uncertain about resting on the top of the hill, "We would have the high ground but no visibility. They could every well attack from any angle."

If we keep up this pace in the middle of the night, then we going to make and mistake and someone will get hurt.  We must stop and rest, Thraim thinks to himself.

Wearily, Thraim says, "beggars cannot be choosers.  We must find a place to stop and rest.  The horses need to rest.  This place looks good enough.  Anyone have an objection to stopping and making camp here?"

Semina brings Icerick to a full stop.  She is cautious of their surroundings, but agrees that rest is needed if the horses intend to go any further.   She doesn't say a word as she grabs grain and water for Icerick.  

Tired, cold and hungry, Semina brings out a all the necessities she will need for a bit of comfort.  As she rummages through her bags she notices her hidden pouch with a map end protruding out of the top.  

Semina looks over to the others as they prepare to make camp, and decides to undresses behind Icerick into fresh clothing.  She hangs her old clothes over her horse for drying, as she finishes dressing. She then grabs some rations as well as the map for conversation.

"By all means I am beyond tired and value sleep more then anything thing at this moment," she walks up to her companions.  "After our journey today, it occurred to me that we might be in familiar territory according to my recollection of what the Lord Steward said," she wiggles the map in front of the party.

"If my memory serves me correctly, there was mention of a stinky bog that encompassed Haarken Swamp," Semina pauses.  "The locations act as a barrier for monitoring the foothills and Trollspire mountains against invaders we are searching for."   Semina hands the map over to Thraim, and takes a bite of her rations as she searches for reactions from the others.  

"My lords, I am weary from the journey and would ask for a wee bit of sleep before we progress with any further plans," she yawns.  "If I may suggest taking second or third watch tonight, then maybe our heads might clear for  a better strategy."

Semina lays out her bed roll not caring if the others leave her to find better shelter.  'Between the rain, the hard ride and reading animal calls, death would be welcome over sleep tonight,' she  contemplates to herself.  'Better get some sleep before my temper drives the other to fight the demons then deal with me,' she grins as she waves goodnight to the others.

Naren takes the time to subtly cue in anyone who hasn't noticed the caltrops yet, such as by flashing one into view for a moment.

Magic is a great resource, after all, but caltrops are cheap. Frugality at the right time saved lives, in his opinion. And he'd need his spells soon, if he had to guess...

Heathcliffe's trained inclination for safety is overcame by his natural halfling desire for comfort and he bows to the wishes of his companions. Finding a good vantage point, he sits downs and rubbing his left sole as he pulls out a smoking pipe, says, "Very well. I'll keep first watch then."

The night passes safely, though everyone's sleep is plagued with nightmares. When the sun finally rises, you stare out at a world gone mad. Instead of the hill where you made camp last night, your bedrolls now lie in a foyer of an ornate mansion. A freshly swept carpet graces the floor. The walls are decorated with bright, colourful tapestries.  Brass candelabras line the entranceway. They show signs of having been recently polished and are filled with candles.  

More frightening than the sudden change from the wilderness to a mansion is the smoky gray mist which surrounds the mansion at a distance of 30 feet, blocking all sight beyond. No sound penetrates the mist. A mule which accidentally wandered into the mist was quickly lost to sight, though its lead rope was clearly visible at the edge of the mist. When the rope was hauled back in, the dead body of the mule was dragged back into the sunlight. What killed the mule cannot be determined, but it died with a horrible look of pain on its face. The mist advances on the mansion even as the party watches, but luckily it does not enter the foyer. The double doors to the interior swing open into the main hallway by themselves.

Sander pinches himself to ensure he is indeed awake.

You are, indeed, awake.