Subject Camping

mark, I sent an email...did you get it?

Bel will offer to Ran to keep a double watch for Harp and Alytar so that they can heal better. He will also offer to help bandage them to improve healing (heal check).

Subject Camp

Come my traveling companions, the 1/2 man, 1/2 beast Harp wishes to sleep; to lay his throbbing head down upon the hard earth and feel the warmth of his body be drained out of him by the leeching cold swirling around him. He who controls this universe is loath to advance our activity without the knowledge from all of what it is they wish to do. I beseech thee, send in your actions so that I may come to my slumbering repose that I have so greatly earned this day.

Harp

Subject Treasure

OOC: Hey folks, sorry for the delay. I should be able to keep up from now on (although I'll still be posting only at night--if I access my mail from work again the consequences are liable to be...dire.

IC: Rummaging through the orge's sacks, Surin is repelled by most of what he finds. The forward quarter of a dog, half mummified, blackened straw stuck to what must once have been open wounds, stares up at him from one sack, the smell of it causing his gorge to rise almost uncontrollably. A medium sized amethyst is stuck in the tar-like blood where the dog's ear once would have been. Gingerly he plucks the gemstone from its revolting setting, spitting on it and rubbing it between thumb and forefinger to wash away the crusted filth.

Another sack contains ruined tack, the dry leather of the harnesses cracked to the point of uselessness where it hasn't been gnawed through by rats. There seems to be almost no sense to the contents of most of the bags.

At the bottom of the bag of ruined tack, however, is a battered tube. Intrigued, Surin pulls it free and examines it, dabbing some of the filth from it with a dampened scrap of cloth ripped from one of the bags. He thinks briefly of opening it, but he has heard one too many stories of ensorcled scroll cases to take the chance. "Fal-Tor," he calls over his shoulder, "have a look at this." With that, he passes the tube off to the wizard and returns to rummaging through the sacks.

One bag is surprisingly heavy for its size, and clinks with the sound of coin when he attempts to shift it. He opens the sack and gives a low whistle. There is a fortune in here--almost a thousand gold pieces, if his estimate is correct, gleaming in the sunlight. He sqints at the coins for a moment. Something seems wrong, although he can't put his finger on just what it is. He starts to reach for a coin, then thinks better of it. Instead he picks up a long stick and probes at the coins.

[OOC-Mark, any information you can give me on what it is about the money that bothers him?]