Mystery at Fang Hills
Scene Setup: An elf named Galdire seeks a company of adventurers to discover the fate of an order of scholars and mages lost in the Fang Hills.
Chaos Factor: 5, (Chaos roll: 8, no alteration)
Did Galdire survive the journey? (Likely, 15, Yes)
What do they find upon their arrival? Neglect (03) Outside (04); Hills Dressing: The hill path ends at a precipice that drops hundreds of feet to the foothills below. (99)
The Fang Hills had been aptly named. It seemed that nearly every gently sloping hill ended with a sheer drop on the other side with nothing but jagged stalagmites at the bottom. How they had formed outside of a cave system was anybody’s guess, but they were there.
Sticking to a small game trail up yet another slope, Kaylessa noticed tracks of people rather than just animals. “This way,” she said quietly to Galdire. He was limping along at this point but still surviving. He had held out longer than most after they became Diseased. He hadn’t even lost his mind yet. If there were a way to study Galdire, it would be useful, but sort of thing was beyond her. All the more reason to find these sages.
“People went this way,” she said. “I’ve no way of knowing whether they are those we seek, but it’s the only lead we have thus far.” Galdire merely nodded, still winded from the climb up the latest hill.
The further they followed the path, the more Kaylessa noticed the refuse. They were little things at first like a tiny scrap of cloth or an out of place feather possibly from a used pen. However, they gradually became more distinct like a discarded vile of some yellow material (39) or a smoking pipe (54) and even a pack of rations (63) and a wine skin (13). These things should not have been abandoned so easily. It was almost as if whoever they were following had been neglectful in their passing or at least hurried.
Just as she was thinking this, Kaylessa crested the hill and saw the path go straight towards another sheer drop. This can’t be right, she thought. The other game trails went back down the hills by another route not over the edge. As she thought this, she noticed more and more refuse scattered about. This had definitely been a campsite of some kind and from the look of it a recent one. A shovel, a blanket, some arrows, an ink bottle, and some torn packs all lie strewn about. What happened here? she thought.
Survival to read the signs: 5, Success. Meaning: Triumph (06) Success (48). The more she looked about, the more she noticed a pattern. About every third piece of discarded supplies was an empty wine skin or empty bottle of spirits. They were celebrating, she thought. So where did they go?
Survival to track them: 7, Success. There were no tracks leading away from the camp. In fact, the only tracks led right off the cliff face. A quick glance over the edge showed no bodies. Something else must be going on here. Illusion, perhaps?
Is there a magical entrance off the path? (50/50: 65, No) Laying down over the edge of the cliff, she felt for an invisible bridge or floor. If there was an illusion at work here, she should be able to feel it. That is when she heard it: snoring. It was coming from below her. Looking towards the actual cliff face, she noticed a hole, a large cave entrance. The sound was coming from there. How did they get in there drunk as they must have been?
“Whoever we’re following is drunk and sleeping it off in a cave down there on the cliff face. I’ll need to get down there quietly and look around.” Glancing around the neglected campsite, there were trees aplenty and even some rocks. Perfect for tying off her rope and rappelling down. “You stay here. I’m going down,” she said to Galdire as she got to work.