Balifor Bay - Raven's Return
20 Gildember 348 AC
Grotto follows the lead of the trackers. He keeps his foraging eyes wide to see if he can find any useful ingredients for the next meal they have when they set up camp.
Arthur follows towards the rear of the group in case they some how come from behind.
Kysek allows Bubo to rest perched upon his shoulder. He maintains a careful eye on the trail ahead as he silently follows the markers left by the scouts ahead.
Shadow will hang to the middle of the group with Cassidy and watch for danger along the way trusting in more experienced trackers to lead the chase.
Cassidy wraps his lute and stows it in his pack to protect it from the worsening weather. He taps his chin a couple of times, "Hunting songs... hunting songs...Oooh! I know!" And with that, he begins to sing.
"🎶 🎵 In touch with the ground
I'm on the hunt I'm after you
A scent and a sound, I'm lost and I'm found
And I'm hungry like the... 🎶 🎵
Shadow smiles and looks at Cassidy “I like how you just bust out into song. Might be your superpower.”
Cedron swiftly breaks camp, and almost comically stores a large amount of camping gear back into the folds of his cloak without the slightest bulge of fabric displaying from the outside.
“I am no tracker, but I have watched the Little Black Bird in action countless times. The process seems simple enough.” Ced approaches the print carefully and begins to ‘act’ like he knows what to do. He studies the print. “Hmmmm”. Then he grabs some soil and slowly releases it as if to catch any wind. He then takes a deep breath, as if he can smell the direction of his prey. “I believe what we have is a ... um, big lizard or bird and it’s obviously heading south.” he confidently says.
Ornforithalas crouches beside Cedron, watching the bard and nods. "Nicely done. You have the makings of a woodsman." He gives his men a sharp whistle and points in the direction Cedron indicated and the scouts depart, making their way down the trail.
Sleet continues to fall and the temperature drops precipitously. A thin rime of ice coats the branches of trees and rocky outcroppings along the trail.
The Black-Robed Elfemental rests a hand on Grumbar’s Razor as he glides along the path behind the others… baiting any would-be assailants. Then he hears it.
"%@$#. Where you at?" Raven's voice carries clearly through the mental link he and Ra'ziir share.
Arthur follows towards the rear of the group in case they some how come from behind.
Kysek allows Bubo to rest perched upon his shoulder. He maintains a careful eye on the trail ahead as he silently follows the markers left by the scouts ahead.
Shadow will hang to the middle of the group with Cassidy and watch for danger along the way trusting in more experienced trackers to lead the chase.
Cassidy wraps his lute and stows it in his pack to protect it from the worsening weather. He taps his chin a couple of times, "Hunting songs... hunting songs...Oooh! I know!" And with that, he begins to sing.
"🎶 🎵 In touch with the ground
I'm on the hunt I'm after you
A scent and a sound, I'm lost and I'm found
And I'm hungry like the... 🎶 🎵
Shadow smiles and looks at Cassidy “I like how you just bust out into song. Might be your superpower.”
Cedron swiftly breaks camp, and almost comically stores a large amount of camping gear back into the folds of his cloak without the slightest bulge of fabric displaying from the outside.
“I am no tracker, but I have watched the Little Black Bird in action countless times. The process seems simple enough.” Ced approaches the print carefully and begins to ‘act’ like he knows what to do. He studies the print. “Hmmmm”. Then he grabs some soil and slowly releases it as if to catch any wind. He then takes a deep breath, as if he can smell the direction of his prey. “I believe what we have is a ... um, big lizard or bird and it’s obviously heading south.” he confidently says.
Ornforithalas crouches beside Cedron, watching the bard and nods. "Nicely done. You have the makings of a woodsman." He gives his men a sharp whistle and points in the direction Cedron indicated and the scouts depart, making their way down the trail.
Sleet continues to fall and the temperature drops precipitously. A thin rime of ice coats the branches of trees and rocky outcroppings along the trail.
The Black-Robed Elfemental rests a hand on Grumbar’s Razor as he glides along the path behind the others… baiting any would-be assailants. Then he hears it.
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