« Last post by Murometz on October 18, 2014, 04:29:25 PM »
By the time they reached the solemn stone dolmens scattered not far from the river, it was late in the afternoon.
Whatever horrible creature had made a residence of the thorps longhouse they had just left, they wouldn't find out. Or would they?
The megaliths sticking up from the flat ground were covered in lichen, yet etched runes could be seen along their contours. It was no longer raining, but blast the weather, a cold wind picked up to usher in the evening.
Sil, Echo, and Dozus quickly ascertained that they could actually read the stone script, as it was written in the elvish tongue, though an archaic one.
The stones told vague tales. Most of the runes translated as simply being markers, denoting the territory of the elves of eons past. Others, spoke of great elven heroes and tombs and ancient gods. Echo even spotted a few passages mentioning Morena, goddess of magic and death. Though somewhat esoteric, one of the stones mentioned something about the Four Ways and One, a literal and figurative journey to Morena's physical Domain. It was impossible to make any sense of any clear message or instructions however. These stones had no doubt stood here for millennia.
Graffiti also covered the stones. Scrawls like, "Gormus was here" or "Sulpin loves Dessel" marred the elven runes.
Tusserk meanwhile busied himself with the deer.
MysticMoon gathered what little kindling could be found in these queer flatlands.
Val kept to himself keeping a keen eye in all directions.
Dozus stuck his nose back in his spell book, Sermulis chittering beside him.
They had finally managed to start a fire despite the moist earth and general dampness...
They were exhausted, mentally and physically, hungry again, and--well, not as cold with the fire.
Lucky naturally spotted it first...
From the direction of the apparently abandoned and monster-haunted thorp, came a running and stumbling woman dressed in drab robes and cradling a bundle, what looked like a small child, in her arms.
Tripping occasionally on the treacherous rocks of the plain, she kept coming toward the fire. Finally she paused, breathing heavily, and stared wide-eyed at the massive wolf fifty yards away.
"Succor! I beseech thee!" She yelled past the dire-wolf to the group. "I carry a babe! No men from Coldmoat came, no one! I don't know how many are left! The thing massacred us!"