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"Came a traveller through my tavern. Weeks ago, two or three maybe. Ironmonger, selling knives and cooking pots. Through Orr's Bay he'd passed. Up in arms, the folk there were, about lich, but a dead one. Well deader than usual, for all of them are dead.
"Said the lich looked like an elf, though he didn't see it for himself."

"Interesting, we have heard this story, is Orr's Bay Large? I doubt they have a large military force, but still..." She ponders, staring at the assembled party.

"I think it may be wise for us Elves to stay hidden somewhat, if that was the reaction from a few regulars... Imagine a whole Village..." She continues her food.

"The thing that's always bothered me about this whole situation is that Lichs tend to look....corpse-efied. Granted there's some ways to tell if a corpse is human, elf, etc, but it was also washed up on shore. After spending that long in the briny deep, there couldn't be too many dangly-bits left to make a real identification. If it were done by looking at the bones, how would one determine if it were a lich and not just a fancily dressed elf?"

"Interesting point..." Angel ponders this for a while, saying nothing, her eyes fixed on Daos, she was intelligent enough, but....

She would rather those more suited to such things dealt with this one. Her main priority was to protect Fraso.

Fraso perks up at Bastian's comment. "There are many ways to tell a human from an elf, good man, even in an advanced state of decay. The morphology of the skeletal system is similar, true, but very different in the particulars. A learned man would likely be able to tell the difference from just a few bones, and we apparently have a fully articulated set of remains waiting for us, with much of the dermis intact, and the musculature"

"So essentially, until you inspect the body yourself, our reports are based upon seamen and farmers who may have only ever heard of elves OR liches from local ghost stories..."

Angel smiles at the sarcasm... Maybe he's ok afterall..

"So, we don't know what is waiting for us till we get there, do we?

"We should stay alert and watch our backs..

[ooc]I'm assuming our convo last night, re, military in Orrs Bay was a private convo between Fraso and Angel, hence she knows there is a small armed force there, and humans/elves. [/ooc]

Fraso's speech becomes somewhat expansive, although he does make an effort to give his voice a grim, knowing tone. "Most assuredly, good sir. Although I am sure they have seen their share of elves. Orr's Bay has a mixed population.
"The problem is ignorance an fear. A given person can be said to possess a modicum of intelligence. In large groups, or even in small groups, particularly when the unknown is involved, people are mindless fear-driven sheep, willing to believe almost anything, no matter how far-fetched. And it gets far worse when when death is involved. Once I saw an entire town panic because of a 'monster' they found washed up on a riverbank, which turned out to be nothing more than a partially decayed raccoon. People are just not equipped to understand and interpret the whole taphonomic process.

"Thus the purpose of our visit. I am certain this is not an elven lich, for no such thing exists. They merely need an expert, one sent by the rightful authorities, to point that out to them, and all will be well."

Full of breakfast, your group takes to the road. Well, not a road, really. The quality of the road has steadily declined after each successive town and you are now traveling on more of a well-groomed trail than a road, made somewhat sloppy by last night's storm. The good news is that although the clouds dumped a great deal of rain on the area overnight, they then went elsewhere, to make someone else miserable, leaving behind a mostly clear sky.

Hiric turns to Salia as the wagon starts rolling and says: "Best start preparing a couple of chickens, Li. I spoke with the tavernkeeper last night. Orr's Bay is two or three days away, and there's not another village of any size between here and there, at least noplace we can count on buying a meal, or lodging. We'll be having a cold lunch, and you'll be cooking dinner tonight."

Awhile later, the wagon begins leaving behind a trail of plucked feathers as Salia sits near the tailgate, plucking chickens.

Angel keeps her position to the front of the wagon, making the occasional word or two of conversation with Papa, or Hiric.

She bides the time whistling an old elven song, out of tune.

Progress is slow due to the wet and poorly-maintained trail, but the wagon is holding up fairly well under the circumstances, particularly in light of the fact that it's not built for this sort of travel. About two hours before sunset your group comes in sight of a fairly large patch of forest, through which the trail is cut.
Hiric stops the wagon about a quarter mile from the edge of the woods with about two hours of daylight left. debate suddenly, sparking a debate with Fraso.

"I'd just as soon not venture in there knowing we'll not be out by nightfall," Hiric states, flatly. "You never know what lives in there, and I don't want to meet it in the dark, even with the Inebriate's coin. We can camp here for the night, head straight on through in the morning."
Fraso argues that the group should press on. The sooner your group gets to Orr's Bay, the fewer nights you will have to spend in the wilds.
Papa's position in the wagon puts him in the perfect spot to inject himself into the argument, but he declines to do so. It is not his job to make policy, and if there's anything really dangerous in the woods, a quarter mile is not likely to make much of a difference.

Angel dismounts Praesul, this wouldn't be her first choice as a place as any to camp. But her employer has chosen to camp here, so she'll make the best of it.

She looks for anything that would qualify as a defensible position, sword at her side she starts to organise the group.

"If we're camping here, we had better make this the best camp we can."

[ooc]I guess we split the night into 4 watches. Only considering the "players"
Suggested order:
1st:Bastian
2nd:Papa
3rd:Angel
4th:Tempest
[/ooc]

Hearing the comment made about him, Bastian get's a bit offended. "HEY! I am taken aback by the accusation that I am a DRUNK! I may encourage that sort of action, but I am personally never more than delightfully tipsy!"

[OOC] @ Ish -No offense was intended. "Inebriate" was meant as a title for the order, just as a priest of Marus is called a Crusader, or a priest of Emdallus is called a Defender. I'd welcome suggestions for a better title. [/OOC]

[OOC - No worries, man! It's all RP! Perhaps Bastian has a chip on his shoulder from an earlier incident and takes offense to the title inebriate? lol]

The night goes mostly without incident until Angel's watch. Midway through her shift, the horses begin to snort and stir nervously. As Angel looks over she sees that the horses are all facing the same direction, with Praesul at the front of the group, or as close as he can be to the front, given that the horses are tied to a common line.

Looking in the direction the horses and mules are staring she spots an animal loping through the brush, approaching the wagon. It is low to the ground and about four feet long and two wide, covered in dark fur. It moves with an odd rolling gait, and stops periodically to sniff the air, moving from cover to cover as it approaches. It is about thirty yards away at present.