You unsling your bag and lay it on the ground. Digging through it briefly you pull out the small bundle of papers tied together with a thin rope of animal hair. Lines of scrawl cover each page and you undo the binding to begin reading the tale of your journey over the mountains and across the desert on the other side. The sun continues its travel across the sky as you sit on the log and read carefully through each page, trying to also keep part of your attention focused on the ever-present sounds of the surrounding forest. It becomes immediately apparent that this will not help bring back your memory. Each entry you learn more and more about how you got to this land, but at no point do the events bring forth any images or feelings of actually being there and doing the things you are reading about. Nevertheless, you know this information may one day help bring your memory back, so you push your frustration aside and keep on reading. Your patience is rewarded when you reach the last entry and discover something odd. The last sentence in the entry is not complete. Furthermore, it's not even really the last sentence - it appears you were still in the middle of composing your entry for that day. You ponder the implications of this and can't come to any conclusions that don't point towards troublesome thoughts. You suddenly realize that the sun is almost down to the horizon and it will be completely dark in just a few hours. You have all you need to make camp here once again for the night, but do you? You also wonder if you should search your camp while you still have some light remaining.
(To read your travel log contents, see the new Travel Log section below)
[size="4"]Backstory
[spoiler]
You are a traveler. Orphaned at a young age, you have survived on your own throughout your early years hopping from village to village and learning to live off the land. You began hearing stories from other travelers of a great civilization far off beyond the tall mountains. No one from there was willing or able to give you details - all they could remember was that it was grand and amazing. Curious, and with nothing to tie you to this land, you have set out to find this place. After crossing the mountains and a substantial desert on the other side, you have once again reached fertile land. You made camp beneath the trees for the first time in many weeks, but when you awoke again, you find yourself in a house with no memory of having traveled there. Worse, it seems that besides this vague recollection of your past your memory has become very hazy - so much so that trying to call up your own name proves ultimately futile.
Taken in by a couple living out on the borders of the land you have traveled to, Tarah and Voryn have sheltered you and provided you with food to regain your strength. They have also shown an understanding of your ignorance of local customs and religion, although you are now aware that such ignorance could become possibly deadly for you in the future. Even on the far reaches of this strange land, however, they seem to be affected by something you have not yet discovered. Now that you appear to have recovered, at least physically, they are more than happy to see you off as soon as possible. Although you have not been the best house guest, they turn out to be understanding and lenient towards your behavior and decide to keep their door open to you for the foreseeable future.
[/spoiler]
[size="4"]Travel Log
[spoiler]
Entry One: 78 Mathos, 342
It begins. I am tired of eking out a useless existence here in Badrim. The people with purpose are happy - farmers farm, merchants sell, performers perform, artisans craft... I am none of these, or others. What is my purpose? It seems my parents didn't think I had any either, or perhaps they would have kept me. No, no they died. They died and I was left alone, that must have been what happened. But it still doesn't give me any purpose beyond finding food and shelter for the next span of days and nights. It never ceases to amaze me that (the short remainder of this passage is scribbled out).
Back to the real focus of this journal - I have decided to travel over the mountains. It probably helps that I have no friends in which to confide this idea to, for they would probably laugh and try to talk me out of it. Although others as unfortunate as me have heard tales of people from a land beyond the tall peaks, it was all just rumors whispered around the ale taverns. I did my best to collect what information I could that seemed plausible, but besides becoming slightly more confident in the fact that there really is something beyond the mountains, I have no idea how to get there. But I will try. At the very least, I now have a purpose in life.
Entry Two: 89 Mathos, 342
I have been trudging through this all-forsaken forest for 11 days now since leaving the town behind. Every now and then I would encounter an outlying farm I could poach from, but now things are becoming much too sparse for my liking. I am hoping as I continue past the range of the hunters animal life will become more plentiful. I don't care what those blasted herbalists in the town square would try to tell me - there's no good substitute for a nice chunk of red meat! I tire already of eating roots I dig up along my way. How do those mountains not seem at all closer??
Entry Three: 93 Mathos, 342
I caught my first wild animal today, a small fawn that had wandered away from its parent and got caught up in my snare. I am glad my reading of the droppings was accurate in helping me choose the path deer in this part of the wood travel most often. It is also good that I may have enough meat along my travel to the mountains to start storing up for the crossing.
Entry Four: 107 Mathos, 342
I have finally reached the base of the mountains, although when I climbed a tree to look back the other day I realized I had been climbing gradually for at least the last couple of days already and did not even realize it! Hunting along my travel through the wood has produced ample reserves of dried meat for my journey through the mountains. I have tried to aim for the lowest terrain I could find, although it still looks formidable from here. I guess the best I can do is climb and hope to find a valley that will lead me through to the other side. It has also been very wet lately, I have to take caution to stay away from steeper terrain lest the wash from downpours that sweep through carry me away back down the mountain.
Entry Five: 113 Pikha, 342
I am an idiot. How did I think this would be possible? I am already high enough where breathing is very difficult. Snow covers the mountain and I have to dig a hole to sleep in each night, and dig myself back out the next morning. Supplies of dried meat are running low, although I always have enough water on hand. I have been walking along the line where the trees stop so I can still collect firewood, hoping at some point I will see a good place to get up over the mountains rather than continue to walk along them. Although I'm not going any higher the air seems to continue to get colder and colder - I'm not sure how much longer I can stand it. I don't want to turn back, but I don't want to die either.
Entry Six: 119 Pikha, 342
Luck has struck! I was descending the mountain to try and find areas with more wildlife so I could restock my food supplies when I tripped and fell down a steep ridge. Okay, that part wasn't so lucky as I ended up badly cut and bruised up, but nothing that will hinder me seriously and won't heal with time. But at the bottom of the ravine, covered by trees, was a small river moving with incredible swiftness. I followed its flow and it led to a small cavern in the mountainside, with faint light coming from a distant source. I carefully walked along the narrow banks and soon stood atop a raging waterfall down into a monstrous cavern under the mountain, lit through a gaping hole in the ceiling that poured light down onto a massive underground river. Far off at the end of the cavern I could see a small hole filled with daylight. After 3 days of travel that small hole turned into a huge opening taller than the highest tree, and I was through the mountain! Now begins the climb down - supplies are low still and I'm hoping to find some wildlife or edible plants soon.
Entry Seven: 123 Pikha, 342
Bad news. I have descended far enough through the surrounding mountains to see what is beyond, and it looks like a vast desert wasteland. How I can cross that with the meager supplies I've managed to collect so far is beyond me. Roots and plants are plentiful, but animals here are very agile and impossible to catch, leaping from ledge to ledge and sometimes climbing sheer rock faces. All my best snares have been useless. I have marked my way back to the river cavern should I need to turn back, but I'm hoping it won't come to that.
Entry Eight: 138 Pikha, 342
Things may not be so bad after all. As I descended lower and began walking along the edges of the desert and forest I discovered small lizard creatures. They are very quick during the day but if I stalk them and see where they bury into the ground at night, I can dig them out and they are very lethargic as the moon rises. I see many of their tracks leading out into the desert, and it seems they only come here to the forest to lay eggs. I may have come at the perfect time to follow their migration back out into the wastelands. I have traveled along the edge of the forest for days now and encounter them everywhere so they appear to be very numerous. No, they do not taste very good but I haven't noticed any complications with eating them so far. There is no way I can carry enough wood with me to build fires, but their droppings do burn well even if they stink. It's only heat I'm after. Water is my last issue, but after my experience with the underground river I have an idea about that. I'm going to give this a try.
Entry Nine: 1 Mathos, 343
It's only been a few days of travel in the desert with the lizard creatures, but upon looking at the stars last night I realized we had completed another cycle of the heavens, so happy new year to me! The bad part of following the lizards is that they move during the day, when I would much rather be sleeping. The best I've been able to do is sleep from sunrise to the early evening and then try and follow their tracks in the sand before it gets to dark to see where they have gone underground for the night. Sometimes the wind is too strong and blows the tracks away, so I'm forced to go hungry and wake up early enough to continue on and pick up the tracks from where the lizards spent the night before the wind comes up. This uneven sleep schedule is taking a toll on my weary body, which is now rail thin from a bare minimum of food and water. For the water, I dig a hole with my hands down until my entire arm can reach in, then clear out enough room to stick my cooking bowl in the bottom. By the time I wake up the next morning water from the ground and the air has collected - enough to be barely sustainable. I still don't see an end to this desert in sight, but the lizards are still moving in the same direction and it's too late to turn back now. The mountains don't seem to be any smaller behind me, but I know now how that can be deceiving.
Entry Ten: 14 Mathos, 343
I'm getting very, very tired of smelling burnt lizard poop and tasting barely-cooked lizard meat. About the only good sign is that my cooking bowl seems to be filling with a little more water each day. Also the moons have begun to set early in the day and so it is very dark at night and hard to see. This is bad because a lot of small animals and insects come out of the sands during this time, and I've discovered that some are not put off in any way by my apparent size in relation to them. In fact, I had to outrun a spider once! Yes, a spider half the size of my hand leaped after me for a good two hours. I swear I could hear it hissing. The worst though are the small stinging insects you can barely see. They can swarm you at night although I've found smoke from the lizard poop can keep them away fairly well. So now I smell like burnt lizard poop. Who's bright idea was all this again??
Entry Eleven: 23 Mathos, 343
I can't believe how lucky I am to be alive. After traveling so long in the desert my mind must have fried for I spent the end of the night in a small gully after the day's winds had refused to die down, which meant lying atop the sand kept blowing it into my face. Well, I must have only been asleep for a few hours when I woke to a faint rumbling within the ground, as my ear was pressed up rather close against it. I got up and looked to the distance and saw dark clouds and haze on the horizon. With horror I realized the winds were still up because a storm had blown in from the north, and I was now resting within a wash. I quickly gathered my things and scrambled out just as the first wave of sloshing dirty water came rushing around the bend. I would have easily been swept away to my death. However in following the flow of the water with my eyes I looked into the distance and the storm had cleared the air as it passed by and I could see a faint line of trees. Bless the moons, I had made it across!!
Entry Twelve: 32 Mathos, 343
I'm sitting under the cool forest canopy eating my first meal of non-lizard in many, many days. I don't even know what it is but it tastes so good. The wash that almost killed me ended up dumping into a small stream within the forest, where I bathed and refilled my water bladder. Now I've been trekking through the wood in the general direction of away from the desert and mountains. So far I have not seen any sign of people living in this land, although the mountains back home were many days travel from populated areas as well. I've decided for the time being to stop and rest in one place to build back a lot of the strength I lost crossing the desert. I have a nice lean-to constructed against a fallen tree that shelters me well enough against the rains that pass through every so often. The weather is temperate here, although each day since leaving the desert it has seemed to grow slightly colder. Besides trapping wildlife, I've found some plants that look similar to herbs back home and have tri- (entry ends)
[size="4"][/spoiler]
[size="4"]Inventory
[spoiler]
Inventory Key
[x]: slots used by item
{}: braces contain item stats & properties
Weapon Stats: Attack / Defense / Damage
Item Sizes and Individual Usage: Tiny(3x), Small(5x), Medium(10x), Large(15x), Huge(25x)
Item Total Usage: The number at the end of an item represents the number of uses remaining, if individual items have their own usage amounts.
Stacked Items: A number placed before an item represents the number of individual items contained within that slot. Not all items can be stacked.
Examples
[5] Large Sword {6 / 3 / 15}
[2] (3x) Medium Health Poultice (25x)
[1] (10x) Dried Beef
Items
- Pants pockets [2/2 slots]
- <a style="text-decoration: none" title="metal lock picks rest in what appears to be a shell of extremely hard wax. Unfortunately, these small wire picks will be damaged in the process of undoing a lock, rendering them useless afterwards">[1] Small case of picks (5x)</a style="text-decoration: none">
- <a style="text-decoration: none" title="A small blade about the span of your hand, carried in a beaten leather casing. It is a bit dull, and the peculiar shape of the blade shows it is best used for skinning dead animals">[1] Small knife {3 / 1 / 2}</a style="text-decoration: none">
- Travel satchel [13/15 slots]
- <a style="text-decoration: none" title="Normally worn on your hip but small enough to fit in your pack, this dagger has traveled with you since you were a little scrap. You stole it from a merchant who ratted you out to the local constable for thieving food. It's blade is well-worn and could use sharpening, but extends almost the length of your forearm in the traditional dagger shape with a single pointy tip at the end. It has no hilt and is carried in a sheath of dried animal skin.">[3] Hip Dagger {5 / 1 / 3}</a style="text-decoration: none">
- <a style="text-decoration: none="" title="brewed up by Tarah, this extract from the darkmold fungus can heal minor wounds and ailments. The skill of the herbalist and the quality of the darkmold equal the effectiveness of the poultice.">[1] Small vial of darkmold extract {+15 health} (5x)</a style="text-decoration:>
- <a style="text-decoration: none="" title="Your small notebook that contains entries from your journey over the mountains and across the desert. You hope it might unlock some more of your missing memory once you get a chance to study it.">[1] Travel journal</a style="text-decoration:>
- <a style="text-decoration: none="" title="Used to hold meat, broth and other items to cook over a fire.">[4] Metal cooking bowl</a style="text-decoration:>
- <a style="text-decoration: none" title="A pronged fork and large spoon, also used as a ladle, for eating fire-cooked meals">[1] Utensil set</a style="text-decoration: none">
- <a style="text-decoration: none="" title="A common staple of food in the area it seems, bread loaves go well with broth and can be used also as bowls">[1] (5x) Bread Loaf</a style="text-decoration:>
- <a style="text-decoration: none" title="while not as sturdy as a flask or jug and thus not able to carry all kinds of liquids, your water bladder at least has been topped off with spring water Tarah pulled from a nearby well.">[2] Medium water bladder (10x)</a style="text-decoration: none">[/spoiler]
[size="4"]Codex
[spoiler]
- someone named "Ashwyn" appears to be a powerful... person?
- you are in some region of the land know as the "Hinterlands", east of a river known as the "Feora"
- Tarah and Voryn are a married couple homesteading out in the Hinterlands
- A Tha'nit is a reptilian creature that has a poison-tipped tail, can be very aggressive if provoked in certain situations but is generally scared off by loud noised. Not edible, unless you have Tarah around to cook one up for you so you don't get poisoned
- Darkmold is a fungus that grows in dark and dry places - with the right herbalist it can be transformed into a healing poultice[/spoiler]
[size="4"]Story Log
This log only shows the last 10 turns. To look back further, just select a turn action to view that turn's log.
[spoiler]
(#16)Voryn's left hand balls up into a fist and slams down on the table with enough force to cause the placings to leap a good inch above the thick wooden surface and send small waves splashing around inside the large pot. Both eyes are now open and glaring at you, but before he can speak Tarah's hand blurs across the table faster than you can imagine to lay on his wrist. You are still recoiling slightly at the rage you see in Voryn's eyes as Tarah's plea reaches your ears. "Voryn, wait!" She says as she attempts to tear Voryn's rapt attention away from you. "He is not a traveler among this land, but beyond it! He does not know our customs." A few seconds of silence pass, but to you time seems frozen as you stare back into the depths of Voryn's eyes and realize his pupils are slightly larger than normal, and there seem to be flecks of yellow in his brown iris. As you wait wondering if his right hand is going to strike out, finally the eyes shift, and Voryn stares down at his plate of bread. You can see the muscles in his arms relax and Tarah sighs with relief while patting his hand. "My apologies, traveler," he says softly, still staring down. "I must admit my temper these days is even shorter than usual." He looks up to make eye contact with Tarah and her mouth turns grim as she nods in agreement.
> [Angrily] "What the hell was that all about?!"
(#17)The words barely escape your mouth before you realize that it probably wasn't one of the smarter things you've said in your relatively short lifespan, which you now hope isn't about to come to a swift end at the hands of Voryn. But if anything, the anger in your voice only seems to make the big man collapse further into himself and the sharp rebuttal instead comes from the opposite end of the table. "You watch your tongue traveler!" says Tarah harshly as she continues to stroke Voryn's hand with hers. The other one is waving its index finger under your nose. "Voryn may have overreacted but he had every right to be offended towards a blasphemer in his house. You may be from beyond this land but if you plan to travel in it I suggest you pay more attention to what is going on around you." With that, she resumes her previous posture and Voryn shortly follows suit. Still confused as to whether you should do anything or not, you sit and watch as they both begin to chant: "High is the One who judges us, Low are the Ones who protect us, Near are Ones we love most, Far are the Ones we know least, Thanks we give for all we have, Death we receive for all we keep." With that, they both reach for their food and Tarah gives you a slight nod. Voryn speaks again as he is tearing a chunk of bread off his loaf, "I think, traveler, that you should depart in the morning."
> Nod silently and finish dinner
(#18)Still wary of Voryn's earlier outburst, you silently nod in agreement and watch as Voryn and Tarah dip chunks of their bread loaf into the pot. You rip a chunk off your own loaf and mimic their dipping action. When you bring the bread back out, you see the broth is now actually rather viscous, and long tendrils hang off the bread piece before finally snapping and falling back into the pot. You can see little bits of meat clinging to the bread as the broth cools and hardens even further, but not enough to lose its gooey texture or feeling. You still see steam rising and so carefully insert the piece into your mouth and chew, recognizing that even in your caution you've just singed your tongue but don't want to further upset your hosts by spitting out your food. Surprisingly, the taste of the broth and meat bits reminds you of a type of poultry found in your native land. Despite the discomfort of your burnt tongue, you hastily dip another bread piece as hunger explodes in your stomach. Although Voryn seems to take no notice of your ravenous appetite, you see a small smile form at the corner of Tarah's mouth as she watches you enjoy her meal. Before you even realize it, the last of the bread loaf is working its way down your gullet and you are staring at an empty plate before you. You're pretty sure everyone at the table can hear your stomach rumble for more, but you're also pretty sure that your welcome has already been overstayed.
> Ask for seconds
(#19)Your stomach rumbles again as you clear your throat. Directing your voice to no one in particular and simply staring down at your plate you tentatively ask for a second helping. You hear a grunt from your left as Voryn reacts to your request, but surprisingly he responds: "well traveler, you may be an offensive heathen but it seems you can at least appreciate good cooking!" he lets out a small chuckle and waves Tarah back into her seat as she gets up to return to the cellar. As he descends below the flooring Tarah leans over with a smirk on her face. "See, I told you his favorite dish would help his mood." She gives you a reassuring pat on the shoulder as Voryn reappears with another helping of bread loaves for everyone. He hands yours to you almost like a peace offering and you smile and nod your acceptance. Tarah leaves the table and returns with spoons, which you quickly realize are necessary as the stew in the pot has cooled enough to make dipping with the bread difficult. The rest of dinner passes in silence as the hungry participants gobble down their food until bare plates are all that is left. As Tarah rises to start collecting dishes and utensils, Voryn leans back in his chair and lets out a long contented sigh. "My dear, your Tha'nit stew is as good as ever!" he booms. Tarah smiles at the compliment as she brings the dishes over to the water basin. Focusing his attention on you, Voryn lowers his voice back to conversational levels. "So, traveler - you shall depart in the morrow. Tarah and I rise with the sun but you may still require some extra rest so please take it. We are retiring now for the night and shall see you when you awake." With that proclamation, Voryn lifts himself out of his chair and thumps over to the master bedroom. Tarah finishes arranging the dishes to soak the night in the water basin and gives you a slight bow before following her husband. The door creaks shut and you hear a latch fall, then the noise of the crackling heath is all that remains.
> Go down to the cellar
(#20)You cast once last glance back at the closed door to the master bedroom before silently descending through the still-open trapdoor leading down into the cellar. Other than what light filters through the floorboards above, the cellar is dark and damp. The floor is dirt and the walls are shored up by wooden beams, some of which have started to rot through from moisture in the ground. Soil crumbles through some of the cracks. The extent of the cellar does not include the entire foundation of the house - as your eyes adjust to the dimness you realize it is only about 15 to 20 feet square. Several tools and spare kitchen utensils hang from the walls but there are no shelves. Wooden crates and thickly-woven sacks line the walls on the floor, filled with a variety of items you assume are either non-perishable or able to stay fresh without refrigeration - although the air is definitely chiller down here. They don't all appear to contain food either, but various supplies. A small rodent with thick fur scurries across the floor into a hole in a corner. The closeness of the room and the dark atmosphere gives you the feeling that you really shouldn't be staying down here much longer. Your eyes dart around the room and identify several objects of interest.
> Go back upstairs
(#21)Feeling like there are eyes on you from the walls themselves, you quickly swipe the small hunting knife and case of metal picks, hoping that neither will be missed anytime soon. Stashing them as unobtrusively as possible in your deep pants pockets you ascend the stairs back up into the common area as quietly as you can, although several small creaks escape the wooden staircase as you climb. You pause at the top and listen, but hear no movement or voices from inside the master bedroom, although the door looks as thick as the one keeping out the cold air in the front of the house. The hearth fire has dimmed considerably, but then a log shifts as the embers crumble beneath it and falls into the waning fire, shooting up a barrage of sparks and making you jump at the sudden crackling of the re-stoked blaze. Still, you see the fire won't last much longer and consider feeding it, but being under no explicit instructions to do so you figure it is better off left alone to die out. As light from the fire continues to fade you realize the pitch blackness is slowly seeping in from the twin windows looking out the back of the house and shiver as a slight chill comes over you. Hoping it's just a breeze let in by the crack under the main door, you cast one last quick glance around the room, noting the dining area you sat at for dinner and the water basin in the corner, the shelves of commodities lining the wall next to your room, and the powder rifle still propped up in the opposite corner. Without being able to stop it, your mouth suddenly stretches into a huge yawn as you cast your gaze finally towards your bedroom.
> Inspect shelves
(#22)You walk over to the shelves that line the wall beside your bedroom door and start scanning over the objects resting upon them. Up at the very top are jars labeled in a text you can't understand, and they are so high up it's hard to make them out anyway in the fading light from the dying fire. The next row down, about head height, contains objects that are more visible as well as larger since they don't have to be lifted so high. Several rather large jugs filled with various colored powder conjure up blurry images in your mind's eye of a wizened old man kneeling over a camp fire and sprinkling powder in to the flames. Suddenly, with a flash of light, a cloud of green-tinged smoke billows up from the flames and forms the shape of a mystical beast. The squealing laughter of a child rings in your ears and you shake away the image, wondering where it was called from within the still-forgotten realm of your memory. Returning your focus to the shelves, you see the jars of powder turn to smaller jars with what appear to be plants - no doubt herbs and spices. You recognize a small jar of darkmold but the rest is completely unfamiliar and the labels are written in what appears to be some sort of shorthand script. The bottom shelf contains dishes, pots and pans as well as various large kitchen utensils like ladles and cleavers. You're about to turn away when the last flickers of light from the flames in the hearth cause an object way up on the top shelf to glint and catch your eye. You look back up and see on the far end the edge of something sticking out, but can't make out what it might be.
> Reach up for object
(#23)You walk around to the end of the shelves for a better angle on the object and reach up for it, but your fingers can only brush the corner. You stretch up again on your tiptoes but still fail to get a solid grasp on the object. Tentatively, you place your foot on the lowest shelf and press your right hand against the corner wall for stability, then slowly raise yourself just high enough to grab hold of what appears to be a small wooden chest only slightly larger than your hand. As you slide it off the shelf however, you realize it is far heavier than you would expect. Before you can pull the chest towards you to balance yourself against the wall, the extra weight tips you in the opposite direction and you fall forwards onto the wooden floor with a muffled thwump. The chest is knocked from your hand and clatters to the floor with additional commotion. You lay there frozen, wishing you had thought to use a chair and hoping that both Tarah and Voryn are deep sleepers... but mere seconds later you hear the master bedroom door creak open and quickly scramble back to your feet to see Voryn's piercing eyes glittering back at you in the light of the fire's embers. The door shuts, then reopens shortly after with Voryn clad in leggings and striding angrily, but in a restrained manner, over to where the chest rested on the ground. He ignores you as he picks it up easily as a feather and walks over to the shelves, muttering the whole time about nosey travelers not knowing how to appreciate good hospitality. You see briefly a sturdy lock holding the latch to the chest secure as it is raised back into place. Then Voryn turns back to you, his eyes weary. "Let me help you to your room. You seem to have forgotten where it is." he says, pointing towards the dark entryway to your bed chambers. Silently you enter, turning around to hopefully apologize only to find the door shut in your face with the sound of a latch falling on the other side. "We will tend to you in the morning, traveler." says the slightly muffled voice of Voryn. Footsteps recede as he returns to his own chambers and you shuffle over to the thin feather mattress on slats that comprises your bed, falling exhaustedly onto it and only belatedly realizing what further consternation you would have caused your hosts had you broken it in the process. You let out a sigh of exasperation, roll over and close your eyes.
You wake up to darkness once again. There are no windows in your room, so as far as you know it could still be night outside, but as the bleariness falls from your eyes you notice slivers of light peering in between the cracks of the wooden walls. You also realize you're freezing and spot the blanket folded next to the foot of the bed, unseen last night in the darkness. You shiver and pull the thickly-woven yet soft material around you as you rise and walk to the door, giving the wood a firm pounding with your fist. "It's open!" comes the voice of Tarah from the other side. You push the door open and find Voryn sitting at the table munching on some leftover Tha'nit stew as Tarah tends to the dishes in the water basin. Sunlight streams in through the windows, and by the angle of the rays glinting off the dusty air inside the house you can tell it's not far past mid-morning. A much smaller fire burns in the hearth, but it is enough to make the common area noticeably warmer than your bedroom. Voryn doesn't acknowledge you as he continues to eat, and you realize he is pouring intently over some documents laying out on the table next to his plate. Tarah dries off her hands and walks over with a small smile. "Bright morning to you, traveler. I hope you slept well, we did not know if you would be vertical before the sun was or not." She smiles wider at her joke and beckons you to follow her outside. "Come," she says, "now that it is light, I can show you the way back to your camp and we can get you ready to set out once again."
> Follow Tarah outside
(#24)You decide that Voryn is better off left alone to concentrate on his papers and allow Tarah to instead lead you out through the main door. You step outside for the first time in days and the cool breeze on your face reddens your cheeks slightly. You pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders and quickly close the heavy door behind you to keep the chill from entering the house. Sunlight filters down through the broken clouds and lights the landscape before you. You see that the house is in a small clearing of the wood, with thick forest surrounding it to the east and north, but to the south and west you see the trees thin out enough that through them you can spot the not too distant line of mountains you crossed to get to this land - it seems like eons ago. Tarah walks over to a hutch along the near side of the house and enters through a small door, coming out moments later carrying a medium-sized satchel that you are happy to recognize as your pack. She hands it to you and gestures for the blanket in return. Reluctantly, though glad to have your bag back, you shrug off the warm blanket and exchange it. "I've packed you some provisions," she says, "enough to get you to the nearest town should you so choose. All your food spoiled by the time you awoke." The wind suddenly picks up and howls past the both of you for a second, leaving you shivering in its wake. "Yes, the cold season has just begun to set in, " says Tarah as she looks to the south. "We don't get much snow out here, but further inland the High Hills do tend to have to deal with it more often. You'll need some warmer clothes, but I can help you a little." She walks back inside and you quickly rifle through your pack to ensure that everything is still there. Satisfied Tarah and Voryn had collected all your belongings, you sling the satchel over your shoulder as Tarah returns carrying a heavy cloak. Voryn too emerges from inside and stands by the door, arms crossed but without expression on his face. "Here," she says as she hands you the cloak, "it is an old one of Voryn's that you can have." You give her your thanks as you throw the cloak around you and clasp it at your neck, the heavy material weighs you down slightly but you can already feel warmth returning to your core. Tarah points off through the trees and brush towards the mountains. "If you head in a straight line towards that notch in the mountains there, you will come across your camp in about 2 hours." She turns and points down a well-worn footpath through the thick wood off to the south east. "This path leads to the nearest town of Leydrhan. It's almost a day's walk on foot." Then she points behind the house to the north. "Back that way is another path that leads to Serif's farm less than an hour distant - he has horses Voryn and I use to travel to town. His son owns a stable there so even if you do not return you can leave the horse with him. Prepare to barter heavily, though tell him Tarah sent you." She leans in closer. "And don't let his old man act fool you," she adds with a wink. Suddenly she straightens. "Oh! I almost forgot!" She digs into the apron tied at her waist and pulls out a small vial of dark liquid. "Here is your darkmold extract. I'm afraid with my meager skill I couldn't make much of a healing poultice from it, but in this form it will at least handle small injuries or clear up minor ailments. Just a small sip or drop at a time now!" You slip the vial into your pack and make ready to leave at last. Tarah locks eyes with you and places a hand on your shoulder. "Know this, traveler - though your behavior may have upset Voryn at times, he and I both know you are good and kind. You are welcome in our house, and may those Below watch you on your travels. Fare well!" Without further words or gesture, Tarah turns, walking over and standing by Voryn's side. He puts his arm around her shoulders as the wind picks up again and gives you a small nod.
> Bid fare well to Voryn
(#25)You take a deep breath of cool air and walk over to Tarah and Voryn, extending your hand in Voryn's direction in a customary gesture of greeting/fare well from your home land. In the back of your mind, you hope this isn't something seen as offensive around here. Voryn stares at the proffered hand momentarily then reaches out to engulf it with his, and you both give a single firm shake before releasing. "Fare well," you say, "and thank you for letting me spend time in your house." Voryn's face remains expressionless, but you see a twinkle in his eyes. "Traveler," he says in that strangely melodious voice, "should you need shelter, we shall allow you to spend time some more with us. Do not be offended if we lock you in your room for the night!" A deep chuckle escapes from his throat, and Tarah smirks as she shivers and pulls herself closer to Voryn's massive chest to try and block the wind.
> Travel to your camp
(#26)With a final nod, you turn your back on your hosts, walk to the edge of the clearing and begin to push thickets and branches out of your way as you blaze a trail through the wood in the direction of the mountain notch to the south that Tarah had pointed you towards as the guide to finding the remains of your camp. The brush thins out quickly and soon you are simply walking between tall trees and occasional stands of undergrowth. The tree branches don't start to spread out above you until well above reach of an averaged-sized man, although you pass some you figure could be scrambled up if your life depended on it. Realizing you are in a part of the world where you know little of the wildlife that lives here, you proceed with caution and listen very carefully to the various calls and sounds you hear emanating from the forest floor and canopy. Birds are common, and in some cases you are sure whole flocks of them are roosting in a given tree. Every now and then you see some clumps of underbrush rustle but never catch a glimpse of what might have disturbed them. You cross several small streams flowing towards the east, none deeper than your ankles, and eventually off in the distance you can hear the faint rushing of water and figure it might be the Feora River that Tarah mentioned back at the house. You are tempted to investigate, but don't want to lose the line you have on your camp and continue to make straight for the distant mountain notch as the sun continues to climb higher up into the sky.
Finally, as shadows begin to fall from the trees once again, you spot a small clearing in the wood where a large tree had fallen to the ground, from age or a storm you have no idea but built against the fallen trunk is a crude lean-to with a small fire pit in the middle of the gap made by the fallen tree. You realize this must be your camp, and at the same time recognize that you deduced this fact rather than remembered it. Troubled ever more at the vacation your memory seems to have taken without your leave, you walk over to the lean-to and peer inside, then jump back with a yelp of surprise as a furry animal the size of your foot comes rushing out and vanishes into the nearby underbrush, its skinny bare tail whipping leaves off the bushes behind it. You carefully peer inside once more and find your bedding lying on the ground, ripped to shreds and reorganized into a nest for the furry creature. You don't notice any eggs or live young, and are thankful you haven't disturbed an animal that would need to be protective of anything. Tired from walking, and disappointed you have nothing soft to relax on, you simply step over to a large log from the tree laying by the fire pit and sit heavily upon it, casting your legs out in front of you and resting your hands on the log to either side to take the weight fully off your feet. You glance again around the site of what you should remember as your camp, frustrated.
> Read travel journal
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