It is the 3rd day of the harvest moon, and the Silver ridge forest has turned from green, to many hues of orange, red, and yellow. The IronMist Mountains to the north shimmer in sunlight daily. From the fortress city of Elendril to the StillMirror sea to the south, The Norick river flows. These are the known lands of the peaceful Kingdom of Lora'dis.

To the west, a baren seered wastland, known as The Dusklands. Sand and scorched earth stretch on for miles to the west, seemingly for eternity.

This, is the land, of Farror.

Nestled just up the base of the IronMist Mountains, a small inn stands. The Silkin Pillow. Through hardly fit for Royalty, the inn was quant and welcoming to any who had spend a long day on foot. Inside, the Barkeep and manager of the establishment was carefully drying one of the few pints that had been used that day. Buisness had been slow lately.

Two Elven men sat in a corner of the room, both leaning over their table and talking to one another in hushed words. It was dusk outside, and the Inn had been lit with many candles, which sat upon the various empty table, and along the walls aswell.

It was is this humble Inn, that our unknowing Heros would begin their adventure.

(I'd like Kaz to post first, and Hunter may join as well later)

The Silkin Pillow's door opened with a slight creek as a slender figure stepped inside. A chill breeze accompanied the figure, rustling a few of the candles, but putting none out. Cloak pulled close, concealing the figure, cowl down low hiding a delicate face. Shadows flickered with the candle flames, though the figure cast none. A large pack was worn on the back. It was obvious this person had been on the road for a bit.

Walking to the Inn keep, "One pint of ale, food to match, and a room." The voice was strong and feminine. Sukra pulled her cowl off of her head as she spoke. Thick black hair was put up in a bun of sorts, a few locks spilling over her face. She didn't wait for the response. Turning from the counter she made her way towards the wall, near the two elven men, where the shadows were heaviest.

Hefting her pack, quiver and bow from her back, she set them down against the wall, behind her chair. She reached into her backpack and pulled out a fairly large piece of wood, possibly oak, she wasn't quite sure. Pulling a dagger from her belt she began to widdle away at the wood. She didn't have a talent for it, yet, but it gave her something to do.

Soon after Sukra entered the inn a short, stocky figure entered. Pulling back his hood revealed a grizzled dwarven face. Striding up to the bar, which he could barely see over, he called to the bar man, “Mug of ale.”

Taking his drink he went and took a seat, slinging the bag, bow, quiver and shield off his back and stowing it under the table. With a glance at the two elves in their hushed conversation Grethon took a swig of ale.

Placing down his ale he pulled out his artisan tools and checked that they were all in good condition, and cleaned them with the corner of his cloak. While he rarely sat down and made complete pieces of armour, he often used the tools to repair his, and did his best to keep them in top condition.

Sukra looked up as a man came into the Inn. He could have been confused with a midget, if he hadn't asked for ale the way he did, and the way he was built was nearly unmistakable. Speaking in the Dwarven tongue, "Dwarves. Short, gruff and love their ale. Yet they always seem to make the most wonderful things." Sukra was still focused on her widdling as she spoke, only glancing up once.

The bartender, who seemed surprised that anyone at all had came in at all, complied with sukras order and silently began pooring her a pint from a large keg in the corner.

He gave her the mug, and a key aswell from under the counter.

"Whenever your ready, first door on you left upstairs. Sleep well."

He continued to clean his mugs, until a voice came, though he could not hear where it had come from. He looked left, then right, then over the counter.

"Oh! Sorry mate. I mug'o ale comin' up."

Again, he filled a mug, and handed it to the dwarf.

"If you need a room, let me know"

The bartender continued his chores, though he continously cast side glances at the multiple shady characters in his bar.

"I hope they pay their tabs," he mumbled to himself

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The two elven man moved closer and began speeking in hushed tones. Over the noise of her own scraping, Sukra struggles to hear the words of the elven rangers, but to no avail. Grethon on the other hand, can hear quite clearly what the men say.

(For Grethon Keel, 1d20 (19 )+ 4 = 23 vs. DC 15)
(For Sukra Aija 1d20 (7) + 6 = 13 vs. DC15)

Grethon didn’t look up as Sukra spoke, and despite speaking in the dwarven tongue he was still no inclined to respond. Instead, while still cleaning his tools, he listened to the two elves. What they spoke of was intriguing, but he choose not to speak of it, instead to take another swig of his ale. He did however make note of who and what they had mentioned.

(With a Charisma score of 7 I’m not real big on social situations. Better suited to bashing goblins than chatting in pubs

The two men to a moment to sip their Ale in silence. It was at this time that the bartender stepped out from behind his bar, and walked over to Sukras table. He placed a plate down. A large drumstick, bread and butter, and an apple.

"That's the best I could whip up... supplys are alittle low these days. Those damn Avalanchers no doubt."

He stood between Grethon and Sukras tables, eyeing them both carefully.

"You know, you two look like the type that need a bit o spending money."

He looked atthe dwarf, garbed in armor and ready for combat. Then the mystery woman, he bow at the ready, eyes that seemed to be searching for a purpose.

"I'll tell you what. Lately, the mountain trade routes have been getting alttile less safe. They say a small herd of Avalanchers got away from some dwarves, and they've been cousing some avack. A lot of supplies have been lost, but whats even worse is that a couple of merchants have even lost their lives"

Sukra looked up as the barkeep came over and placed the food down. "No worries my good man. Looks good." Sukra took the drumstick in her hand and took a large bite. Chewing she savored the taste. It wasn't the best, but it was filling. She washed the food down with a swig of ale.

"Avalanchers.." Sukra said softly as if trying to remember. "Oh, those things. How'd they get loose?"

The sound of money caught her ear. "How much are we talkin about? And what kind of merchants?"

"Well, these were merchants coming from the trade city of Waterdeep. Waterdeep, being the kingdoms only trade and port city, suplies the kingdom with rare suplies. Mostely spices, silks and rare metals for forging and the like. Merchants however have to cart what they've bought their over the mountains. I used to buy my wine, and rice from a man called Bacono, but I fear he has become vicims of these Avalanchers aswell."

The Barkeep took a seat in one of the chairs nearby, and it squeeked violently from the wieght of the rather large man. He scratched his bald head thoughtfully, before continuing.

"No one really knows how these things got free, probably just an accident. But they're dangerous, and need to be stopped... If you can get rid of those thing, I will gladly hand over 30 Platnim peaces for your trouble... The dwarves might pay you even more if you can bring them back alive... or at least freshly killed. Those things are a delicacy for them, but boy are they trouble."

“I’m in,” said Grethon, “where are they and when do you want them dealt with?” Avalanchers, he’d always been rather partial to Avalancher’s, and wondered if he could convince the local dwarves to give him some. For the first time he looked over at Sukar.

She had a look of someone who could take care of herself. He doubted that she’d give him an arrow in the back, but all the same, he’d keep an eye out. She was likely a good shot with that bow of hers, and could cove him as he got close.

"No one really knows where they are, friends, but the easiest way to find them is by following the trade road east. They'll most likely be hiding above passes between the mountains and such, looking for people to drop a pile of rocks on. You'd best hurry too. The next trade shipmests are said to pass through the mountains in under a weeks time."

The bartender looks over the two with eyes of admiration and thanks.

"Then it's settled then. Tonight, your rooms are free, and you can buy any provisions you need from me. Though don't expect much. Like I said, supplies are alittle low."

This of course was quite presumptuous of him, considering that Sukra had not yet said an official acceptace of the deal, but by the way her fac lit up at the mention of Platinum, he figures she was willing to help.

The elven men finished their drinks stood. They nodded to the bartender as they left, dropping ther payment into his hands as they passed by. The left the Inn quitely, and off they went into the night.

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That night our adventurers would sleep and wake rejuvinated and ready for their journey. Both their rooms and board had been payed for and the next morning, the Inn Keeper greeted them happily.

"Well you two! I hope you slept well. I can't thank you enough for your help. Is their anything in my wares that you might be interested in befor you leave?"

Grethon readied his gear before turning to face the innkeeper. He went to have a look at the available wares, but saw nothing that leapt out at him, and he was well equipped as it was. “I’m all set, let’s go.”

With that the dwarf turned and headed for the door, axe ready. The prospect of Avalancer meat along with the platinum was too good to miss.

Our heros, already well prepared for their adventure, said their goodbyes, and the Innkeeper said his thanks. The trade road through the mountains was a rocky one. The road isself winded this wat and that up the steep, wooded sloaps of the mountain

Two days travel seemed to only get them some way up the mountains side, and nights seemed to prove a problem, for everynight, the thick mist the mountains were known for would roll over the mountains.

Upon awakening on the Third day of travel, Sukra found herself alone. Grenthon had taken the early morning watch, and had disappeared with the mist. Alone on the trail now, with only her own equipment, her job seemed... alittle impossible now.

It was at this time, that Sukra would hear a strange sound coming not 50 feet into the woods.

'Hmm....Well aint this just swell. Where'd dat dam Dwarf get off to?' Sukra grumbled to herself. Checking the campsite, she made sure she had all her gear the small fire for the night was completely put out. Before she set out, Sukra knelt on one knee, resting her left arm on her knee, she bowed her head in prayer to Ehlonna. Though the goddess was not her patron deity, she none the less gave thanks for the wood that burned to give her warmth, the trees sheltering her from the bitter winds, and for her peaceful night's sleep. Sukra spoke in the Elven tongue as she prayed. Outloud, "If I can be of service in any small way. Give me a sign, and I will do what I can." Pulling out her dagger she stuck it in the ground, twisting it she created a small hole. Reaching into one of her belt pouches she extracts a small seed. A maple tree seed she guessed. Placing it in the hole, she covers it up lightly with the loose dirt. Uncapping her waterskin, she pours a small bit over the mound of loose dirt. "Grow strong and proud." Standing up she gathers all of her items and heads to the trail.

Some yards down she saw a shrine, small and plain. Walking up to it. She spoke in the Dwarven, "Fharlanghn, I hope you fair well this day. I apologize, I don't have a proper gift for you." Reaching into another of her belt pouches, she set a small pebble on the shrine. "A simple pebble, from many miles away. It's quite smooth, though still dirty. Though I hope you don't mind. Where's the fun in traveling if you don't get a bit dirty along the way." She enjoyed a small laugh. "I humbly ask that you watch over me this day. My road is long and dangerous." She leaned over and kissed the shrine gently, then bowed before she walked off.

After ten minutes or so she heard something coming from the woods. It wasn't something she was use to hearing and it stuck out at her like a baby crying in a cemetery. She reached for her bow on her back but stopped when she saw her hand. It shook slightly every time she used the bow. She never understood why, but she never could aim or steady her hand when she wasn't right next to her target. 'So frustrating.' She mentally chastised her self for that weakness of hers. Instead of the bow she reached to her hip and pulled out her rapier. Sliding smoothly and silently out of it's well oiled sheath.

She moved towards the sound and the woods, keeping low, using the brush as cover. Eyes and ears open, searching everywhere. She didn't want to be caught off guard, the other way around in fact if whatever it was that had made the noise was hostile.

The Barbarian seemed to have heard something aswell, and seemed to prepare for a fight. The two would find themselved in the brush, looking onward at a small clearing. Light filtered through the leaves perfectly, and formed beautiful streams of light. It would be at this time that a goupe of 4 dark coated wolves melded out of the forest carefully, snapping and snarling at the man. Their eyes seem full intelligence, but also with malevolence. They close in on the twos possition, and prepare to strike. They don't ssem to notice Sukra however, for she is hiding in the brush. (7+1= 14 vs. 11)

Initiative:

Sukra ( 13+2= 15)

Aaremeth (10+1= 11)

Enemies ( 8 )