"Aye, we ran into the razorclaws," Karok agreed, motioning to his own slight wound. "Wiped out more than a dozen of them. Ordil, here, thinks he saw a big moorsnake. That might be what's stirrin' them up!"

"But we're here on what you'd call a mission of mercy."

Milon leads you to a barrel of water. He drinks from a filled ladle and noting your concerned looks, informs you it is from a stream nearby and not from Brookman's well.

"Mission of mercy?" he inquires curiously. "That's interesting. People talking about you six. The Falcon's Six they say. Bhaener's Bunch, others say, though I must admit that one throws me."

"Drink up. Day's to be a hot one. How can this lumberjack help you?"

Tynia would have been a bit disgusted with herself for getting wounded and all, but that ends when Jhaelin healed her.

"Thanks," she murmured in a low, soft voice.

She gets to her feet, carefully though and moves with the group, still carefully.

Tynia stares at the newcomer. "You don't say," she would mutter at the man but not loud enough for him to hear. She allows Karok to speak instead.

Brett, after the fighting, will release the shield spell from himself, then follow after and say nothing during these particular talks. The offer of water prompts him to refuse. He wasn't quite thirsty yet.

He wanted to find out as much as possible for the time being.

Dûrwë smiles as he takes the offered water, and says, "thank you, Milon."

After taking a drink and passing the cup on, the elf says in a friendly demeanor, "well, we are looking for some special items and we directed to you for your expertise on such matters. We are looking for Elderwood moss, Rat's tail root, and Ironblooms to help with a cure for the Blackscour. Would you please help us find some of these items?"

The woodsman's eyes widen at Durwe's words, then he laughs.

"Expertise on such matters? Moss, rat tails, roots, and blooms?" he asks, "My name's Milon Rhoddam, a wood cutter, cut line foreman, and woodsman. Don't know much about any of those type of things. Mebbe you should be talkin to Laurel Barker. She's a herbalist in the Hollow. She's a bit blunt, but she'll shoot ya straight."

"She's the one who sent us to you," Karok stated. "Just last night. If you're not free to go with us, just give us some good directions and we'll find our way. But somebody's got to be doing something for all those sick people. They tell me the Scour does'nt usually kill you, but this strain of it is."

"Ahhh, well, if Laurel sent you, she must think I know something of these things." the woodsman says thoughtfully, "But I dont. Of that, I am sure. I can't give you directions to something I know nothing about. Can you tell me more about them? The moss... what does it look like? Perhaps I have seen it, or can recognize it. Where does it grow?"

Milon frowns.

"Believe me, if I can help I will. My nephew is ill with this taint and I worry of him."

"Fair enough," Karok relaxed a little. Milon's assertion made a kind of sense. Sometimes you don't know what you know until you get the right clues and hints.

The dwarf's brow furrowed mightily as he concentrated. "Let's see'f I can remember... the, uh, ironblooms are stunted mushrooms, and they grow in places where there's a lot of metal in the soil, um, in the dark."

"Elderwood Moss grows only on the very oldest tree in the forest, so if you know where THAT is, that's a help. Laurel says that Druid's normally take care of a tree like that, but you all don't seem to have any druids around here."

"Oh, and the Rat's Tail is a root that you normally pickle. I guess it looks like a rat's tail."

He looked around at the others. "Well, that's all my rocky little node can recall. Anybody got anything else?"

"Actually," Jhaelin interrupts, "the root must already be pickled. I think Laurel might have been suggesting that Milon might know the whereabouts of the witch, Ulzimilla."

Jhaelin stands calmly, enjoying the genuine pleasantness from Milon. It was a bit annoying, the sheer indigence he finds in the other cutters and people in this region and Milon is a pleasant distraction.

"Aye, right," said Karok, thumping the side of his own helmeted head. "The Witch. Not a good thing to forget about, a witch."

"So, anyway, d'you have any help for us, here?"

That didn't seem good. Brett thought listening in on the conversation. He wondered where those ingredients could be found, or at least who knows of their whereabouts that they could speak with.

For all he knew, there was no one who knew.

"Well now. That helps." Milon says. He takes a parchment and a piece of charcoal and draws a crude map of the area, indicating certain locations with marks.

"The Elder tree is around about here." The woodsman points to a point directly north of your current location on the map. "The Elder darkwood tree is the most ancient of its kind in Darkmoon Vale. Said to have been carried as a sapling from the Hissing Jungle and planted here in the distant past by a druid named Deirzir the Eagle, of The First Way. The druids that once guarded the forest claimed this darkwood to be the root from which all Darkmoon grew. Last time I saw, the clearing is roughly ovular, 180 feet from north to south and 110 feet from west to east with tall grasses and fern. Can't miss the tree in the middle. You will see druidic stones around the clearing. No one knows what they are for and I wouldn't hazard a quess."

He then points to a point north and west of your current position, making a mark in charcoal.

"The witch's hut is somewhere here. Look for another clearing, say 120 or so feet 'round. There's an old hut there among some older trees, but I don't think there's any witch there. I didn't get too close, but it looked empty to me."

"Now... as for ironblooms that grow near metal and darkness. There is only one place I know like that, 'n yeh aint going to like it. Not many folks know about it, and what do, don't talk about it."

Milon turns his eyes to Karok.

"Place called the Crucible up around Droskar's Crag. It's an old dwarven monastery, long ago abandoned and likely crawlin with all kinds of nasty monsters that like such places."

The woodsman marks the map at a point just beyond the rim of Darkmooon Vale to the north.

When the Foreman spoke almost directly to him about the old dwarven monastery, Karok nodded with sober understanding.

"Aye," he said. "We may want to save the ironblooms for last. Meanwhile, you've given us some good directions, Milon, and we thank you. We'll do our best for your nephew, and all the others."

"My responsibilities here keep me from joining you on your quest, much as I would like to. Good hunting and may may Ehlonna guide you well, and if there is anything else I can help you with, be sure to let me know."

Milon hands Karok the map and turns away with a nod at the others. He moves off toward a couple of cutters sawing at a tall tree.

"Wedge that cut now berks! Start chippin with the axes on the other side till she falls."

The two cutters scramble to place a large wedge shaped block of hard wood in the cut, beating it in with a large mallet.

Jhaelin watches the woodsman walk away. A good man, he notes and willing ally should they need it. He turns back to his companions, giving Karok a questioning glance.

"What was that about? Why should we wait on getting the ironblooms? Other than because they are the farthest away from us..." he adds.

"If not there, then where to first?"

The acolyte scans the forest's edge, wondering where they would enter. Or... would they travel back the way they came? First, they probably should rest a bit and recover their spells.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:28, Tue 15 Nov 2022.

Dûrwë says thoughtfully with a far away tone and look, "I would very much like to see the Elder tree."

Tynia had always had a fondness for trees so she wondered about this one. She heard Dûrwë's words and also had this burning desire to see this tree.

"As do I," she in echo to Dûrwë's suggestion.

"Well, for tactics," Karok said, "Some of us are wounded, but no one too bad, since you healed Tynia. And I don't think Durwe's cast any of his spells yet-- I'm not sure where the others are on magic power."

"And I would like to, at least, get one of the things we need, today. The Elderwood Moss suits. Then we can go back and rest up."

"Twenty minutes Karok." Jhaelin pleads, hoping to rest long enough to restore his energy and renew his faith. "We can surely take the time to eat something quickly and drink more water. It is, after all, nearly the sun's apex now and we have eaten nothing since before dawn."

He turns to the others.

"Eat and drink. Rest for a few minutes. I need to pray. I suggest you casters study your tomes and try recovering your spells if you are not too exhausted."

---

Assuming Karok's, and the other's agreement, Jhaelin will seclude himself for twenty minutes in diligent prayer. CON roll in the dice thread.

"Aye, well enough," Karok agreed. He'd forgotten that the taller races weren't quite as hardy, for the most part. "Some rest will do fine. You all study. I'll keep watch."

"I guess I can do with a bit of rest myself," Brett said on a sigh. Though he felt fine, for the moment.

Dûrwë nods in acquiescence as he says, "I have no need of rest or study, but a small meal break would be welcome."

"Yes, I believe I too shall rest and eat." Tynia said. She felt a bit better thanks to Jhaelin's healing.

Jhaelin had secluded himself away from everyone else, giving his praise to Herioneous in prayer. Dismayed, the cleric returns to the companions after twenty minutes.

"I am either too weak and need more rest, or Heironeous has seen fit to ignore my prayers. I can not think of any way I might have offended Him."

"Well, we should continue. I can rest after we get the elder wood moss."