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Several hours later, after a luxuriously comfortable night, most of the group awake and prepare themselves for the day, the Neverwinter made water-clocks in each room showing the 7th hour after midnight. Larz, leaving the hung over Dorn to sleep longer, ensures that his cousin's belongings are all packed ready, and then heads down to breakfast alone.
Seeing Milo already there - the Painbearer's eyes only slightly red-rimmed - Larz is a little surprised, and grins at the large man as he puts two and two together. "I'm guessing you had some sort of help last night!" he says cryptically, winking at the larger man.

The rest of the group - having slept reasonably well, also gather at the breakfast table and discuss their plans for the day. As the group are finishing their breakfast, Dorn appears at the top of the stairs, still dressed from the day before and looking very much the worse for wear.
He gingerly comes down, wincing at each step and moving as though his head were filled with broken glass.

It is at this moment, that the main door to the inn opens, and Lairdlanggl strides through, the tall man dressed in dark brown hard looking leathers, a short bow slung across his back, and a long slim sword scabbarded at his belt.

He glances over, nods briefly to the group sat around the table, and then moves to speak briefly with Audo before approaching their table.

"So, have yer chosen yer route?" he asks, getting straight to the point. "'Cause I'm gonna head out now to one of the northern most logging camps."

<Dorn aka Doug wrote>:
> "Ya don haf ta yell" Dorn says to the ranger while rubbing his
> temples, "I do think we have decided to foller ya through that damn
> forest. What be yer fee for guiding us?"

The ranger shakes his head. "I'll take no fee - I'm heading in that direction anyway."

<Lucretia aka Joe wrote>:
> "Join us for a meal if you'd like Master Ranger."
> "We will be ready to travel shortly." "I hope all was well last
> night."

"I ate before I left my home" he says, nodding his thanks. "If you are referring to any attacks on the village, all was well last night" he reassures Lucretia.

<Yvandel aka Steve wrote>:
> "Here here. I say if you can get us to one of those logger trails or
> elven paths or whatever you said was there that could get us into and
> thru the forest without getting completely
> lost." "Well I am all for that."

Lairdlanggl glances around the group noting that no-one else seems to object and he turns to the door. "I'll meet you outside" he says, glancing over his shoulder.

The group gather their belongings quickly, move out into the stables and collect their horses. All the while, the ranger waits patiently on the rutted road outside, leaning on his bow and occasionally eyeing the weather.

***

Within a short while, the group find themselves leaving the wooden palisade of the village behind them, trooping instead northwards along a rutted track across the shallow valley around Quaervarr. To either side of the track, stumps of trees felled in times past can be seen, jutting out from young saplings, the young trees look healthy, protected from deer and the like by sharp pointed sticks pointing outwards. Ahead, the forest looks perfectly normal, and the trail winds it's way, forking at various points and occasionally passing through clearing where there is evidence of felled trees.

Up above, the sky seems particularly grey this morning, heavy thick clouds roll by on a fairly brisk wind, though at ground level and amongst the trees it seems quite calm.

During the walk, Dorn, his head thumping still and his stomach not yet ready for food, walks beside Lairdlanggl, his short legs having to move quite fast to keep up with the long step of the ranger.

<Dorn aka Doug wrote>:
> "Do ya have any advice on how to deal with werewolves other than the
> obvious part about not getting bitten?
> Do they have any weaknesses? I myself have never faced one and
> wouldn't want to do something stupid and get myself or any of my
> friends killed."

Lairdlanggl glances down at the dwarf, and sighs. "I've not fought a lycanthrope before, though I've heard that they heal rapidly. Rumour tells that you could plunge a sword right through one, pull the sword out and the wound would have healed over before you'd had a chance to strike again! Unless the sword is made of silver - the metal disrupts their bodies ability to heal itself supernaturally fast I understand."

He shrugs. "As for getting infected by them? Well, being bitten by one does not automatically infect you with lycanthropy. But of course you won't become one without being bitten either! There are also certain herbs you can eat that if consumed before or quickly after being bitten, will reduce the risk of infection..."

After an hour, the rain the heavy clouds had promised starts. Lairdlanggl turns his collar up and pulls a cap from a pocket, tugging it firmly over his head. The others, each in his or her own way make their own adjustments in response to the weather, and trudge on. For a long while, conversation is in short supply, the group watching the woods slowly close in, the trees growing closer and closer together, the
ratio of mature trees to saplings becoming higher. The ground under the trees is a matted carpet of pine needles and moss, though on the trail itself, there is plenty of mud, and the group soon find it easier to walk on the edge of the tracks rather than in them. The constant patter of heavy rain drops falling begins to drown out the noise of the wind in the tree-tops, and the trees over-head almost block out the sky except where the trail crosses the occasional area of felled wood.

***

Lucretia walks next to the ranger for a while, talking with him quietly.

<Lucretia aka Joe wrote>:
> "You don't seem overly happy with your task today...I hope we didn't
> put you out."

Lairdlanggl shakes his head, grunting a negative response. "I was headed out this way anyways..." he mutters. Lucretia's observation does seem to hit the nail on the head, though exactly what is making the ranger grumpy is not obvious, and he doesn't seem that inclined to open up.

"Don't take this wrong Lairdlanggl as I don't know you well, but you seem a bit troubled." "Perhaps there is something we <he looks around> or I could help you with" Lucretia continues.

Lairdlanggl glances sharply at Lucretia, a scowl on his face. He snorts and is about to retort, but closes his mouth and sighs instead, shaking his head. "Don't take this wrong Lucretia 'Trollcleaver'" - he manages to twist he word Trollcleaver to make it seem more like an insult than an honorific - "but although there are many 'adventurers'" - again, slight disdain as he says the word - "who do good in the world - there are just as many who do bad - and in my mind, if there were no adventurers, then the place would be a better place..."

"Your words and you tone are understandable as there are Adventures on both sides of the scale I suppose…good, evil, helpful, and greedy" replies Lucretia

"What side of the scale they are on isn't the problem - it's the fact that they go about disturbing the balance at all!" Lairdlanggl interrupts brusquely.

"They are as diverse as the people of that nice village back there" continues Lucretia. "It wasn’t our intent to offend you and I apologize if we did."

Lairdlanggl sighs again. "Tis I who should perhaps apologise, for we all follow our own paths, be ye druid, ranger or adventurer... or simple forester even." He shakes his head. "We are what we are, and we do what we do" he says somewhat philosophically, "and 'tis not my place to be burdening yer with my bitter ramblings..."

"Is there a group or someone who has wronged you?" asks Lucretia.

Lairdlanggl looks sideways at Lucretia, almost as if amazed at the warrior's persistence. "If Jarthon of Silverymoon, hadn't been an 'adventurer' - off hunting werewolves - he wouldn't have got himself infected, and then gone on to bind the weres into this bloody 'People of the Black Blood!'" He takes a deep breath to steady an anger burning deep inside him. "If I were to name anyone who has got my goat at the moment - it would be he..." He looks at Lucretia levelly. "Part of me wants to say - 'find him and kill him,' but at the same time, the last thing I want is you or your companions as werewolves as well!" He grimaces at the thought and then, after a moment's hesitation, pushes a hand deep inside his cloak, before pulling out a small leather pouch. He opens it, and pulls out a number of small seed pods of some sort, which he pushes into Lucretia's hand. "Wolf'sbane" he says. "Anyone gets bitten, then get them to chew a couple of these - it might prevent them from contracting the disease..." He shoves the remainder of the pouch back inside his cloak and almost imperceptibly shakes his head, as if he can't understand what he'd just done.

“I thank you.” “And though I have no control over shifting the balance, we will do our best not to disturb the wood.” <He looks at the man again.> “If I shall meet this Jarthon I will give him your regards and perhaps a balance shall be struck again.”

<Ruddy woods folk always going on about the balance of this or that…things were always simple in Lucretia’s eyes, something either deserve killing or it didn’t, it was all fairly black and white to him….he was thankful for the seeds though.>

***

With the talk of werewolves on their mind, the dark forest around takes on an almost foreboding look, and it is almost with relief that the group spot a wagon - bristling with young saplings - lurching along the road ahead of them. On the wagon is a group of four men, all wearing chain mail and carrying bows. One spots the group and they all look around, quite wary till they spot Lairdlanggl, upon which they smile and wave. Ahead of them, a clearing is opening up, and the group can see the debris of recent lumberjack work.

"The loggers like to replace what they take" Lairdlanggl comments.

Entering the clearing proper, Lairdlanggl points to what looks like a faint trail heading off on the other side. "This is one of the northern most areas logged" he says, waving a hand at the clearing. "Beyond this point the wood starts to get very thick - nigh on impossible to fell trees without huge amounts of effort to clear the area first." He points towards the faint trail leading off. "That is one of the ancient elven roads I mentioned - if yer must travel the woods, try to stick to the trail - yer'll get lost fer sure if yer stray from the path...It'll be damn hard work to cut your own trail anyways..."

<Lucretia aka Joe wrote>:
> <When they part...he will shake the man's hand and say.> "Well
> met...and thank you <looking towards the trail.> "We appreciate the
> guidance and advise, safe journeys to you."

"Aye. Walk well and don't upset the forest..." He makes a quick sign of blessing. "Mielikki be with you." he says by way of farewell before he turns to move to talk to the foresters.