Immersive Ink

tombowings wrote:
Flewellen offers to take the third watch with Dieter.

tonneau wrote:
Gustave takes out his (now lightly bloodstained) silk pillow and gazes at is somewhat forelornly, "Alas, lament! For this was a gift from the Dutchess Magda of Fruow". He takes the pillow and adds it to his bedding and, removing a last piece of overwear, slides under the sheets with a sigh, "Oh, but she made the most spectacular scones...", he adds dreamily as he drifts off.

waysoftheearth wrote:
As the sun sets, a light drizzle begins to fall, but with the company mostly ensconced in the shelter of the shallow cave, it is actually a rather pleasant sound by which to chew over a brief meal of trail rations and to settle in for the evening rest.

Victor unhitches the mule from the cart and sees that the beast is fed and watered, and then settles in himself.

Michele props and loads his great crossbow and sits himself upon a neat stone and leans his back against the cave wall, preparing for the first watch.

When the sun fully vanishes, the night is cold and dark with the continuing drizzle, especially without a camp fire, or even a torch. But perhaps the lack of light will fail to attract unwanted attention?

(1d6)

Michele awakes Caine sometime before midnight, and retires. Caine finds the rain has stopped, but a chill wind is blowing up and down the gully, swirling uncomfortably into the camp-site. It is very dark and very cold for the duration of his watch...

(1d6)

...which thankfully passes without incident. As the rain begins again, Caine rouses Dieter and Flewellen, and the pair rise grumpily for the coldest watch...

(1d6)

...it is a windy and rainy watch, but sometime just before dawn the weather seems spent, and when the grey dawn comes all the land about is covered by a thick, icy cold fog. Only a dull grey light and their stomach clocks warns the pair that it is dawn at all.

They wake the company, and all break their fast and prepare for the new day.

A few of you roam a little way into the gully to stretch your legs and empty your bladders, and find the blanket of fog to be impenetrable to the eye in every direction.

(What now?)

tombowings wrote:
"Um, guys,I think we're dead," mutter Flewellen jokingly. "And it looks like Avalon has the same geography as the Hinterlands. Weird."

coffee wrote:

waysoftheearth wrote:...it is a windy and rainy watch, but sometime just before dawn the weather seems spent, and when the grey dawn comes all the land about is covered by a thick, icy cold fog. Only a dull grey light and their stomach clocks warns the pair that it is dawn at all.

Oh, good! And here Dieter was afraid he'd sleep right through the most uncomfortable part.

tonneau wrote:
"I think this calls for an extended bout of shuteye", notes Gustave from his bedding, squinting at the fog from one eye.

heartless wrote:
"I open my eyes and see white, I close my eyes I see black, either way we are blind. May as well wait a while for this fog to clear. I will find a good spot to stand guard and keep an elven ear out for any approaching foes", says Padrig.

waysoftheearth wrote:
You dally for an hour, waiting for the fog to clear.

(1d6)

It does not. The fog is still thick enough to visibly blur a companion at 10 feet and obscure him completely at 30 feet, but is hardly enough to deter a Man of adventurous heart...

tonneau wrote:
"zzzzzzz...hmmmff really...darling...hee hee...zzzzz", (snores Gustave)

waysoftheearth wrote:
"Will someone wake that clown?" grunts Victor, shrugging in the general direction of Gustave. And then spits.