Unbeknownst to Tyric, two other adventurers had encountered the Sifune’s darkness. A dwarf and an elf stopped their heart-pounding run. They both doubled over panting for breath. The dwarf keeled over and lay on the ground, chest heaving.
"Cursed elves and yer long legs! It’s bloody unnatural I tell ya."
The elf, Silverleaf, chuckled, his laughter interrupted by gasps for air. "Do you think you’re ready to move again, Bolt?"
The dwarf sighed, but stood up. "Yeah, but let’s take it at a walk this time, eh? I think we’re far enough away." Silverleaf nodded.
They were silent as they walked, Silverleaf slowing his pace so Bolt could keep up. Neither wanted to talk about what had just happened. They were traveling the forest of Sifune in search of adventure. They had found the tracks of some beast, and began to purse it. They had come to a part of the forest that emanated evil and fear to such a degree that it was almost a tangible presence. Both had agreed to go on, but after seeing some hideous sights, decided adventure could be had a bit more easily elsewhere, ran for their lives.
Now evening was approaching, and Bolt and Silverleaf felt safer. But in a very literal sense, they weren’t out of the woods yet. They decided to settle down for the night, giving their sore muscles a chance to rest. The two found a cluster of trees. The exhausted dwarf gathers some branches and swiftly strikes two pieces of flint, creating a small fire.
"Look!" Bolt pointed at a set of footprints. "They lead through these bushes."
Silverleaf staggered over to the dwarf. "They look like Fêrn paw prints," he said.
Bolt looked blankly at silverleaf. "What the hell is a Fêrn?!"
Silverleaf patiently explained to his friend "They look similar to large cats, but they have an extra pair of legs. They usually travel in groups and are very hostile." At this, Bolt’s eyes went wide. He drew his crossbow and loaded a bolt as Silverleaf loosened his sheath.
"Ugh!" Bolt was knocked to the ground. The overgrown fêrn that knocked Bolt to the ground stood over him, showing his fangs. Lightning crackled from Silverleaf’s fingertips, and the Fêrn sprawled backward from the blast and died.
"Duck!!" Bolt shouted and Silverleaf dropped to the ground. The crossbow bolt sailed through the air and buried itself in the chest of the second Fêrn. Seeing his companions crumple before him, the third Fêrn galloped away.
"Good teamwork."
"Yeah, the forest must be filled with strange creatures." Silverleaf glances at the campfire, "Well, the fire survived the battle."
Bolt grunted. "Good thing it didn’t get disturbed. Forest fires aren’t exactly me idea of a hot time." Bolt smiled at his little pun, while Silverleaf just shook his head.
"You know," Silverleaf said, "this smoke is going to be a signal for miles around."
Bolt shrugged and sat down. "Someone would have to be far above tree level to notice it, now. ‘Nd to the best of me knowledge, griffons and dragons don’t frequent this area."
Silverleaf nodded and sat down on the opposite side of the fire.
Tyric and Hopp stared. A thankfully good distance in front of them, the trees had turned disgusting shades of brown and black, extending in a roughly circular area. Even more alarming was the misshapen spire framed against the setting sun, leaving Tyric to his imagination of what was inside.
"What’s that?" Hopp’s voice jolted Tyric out from his thinking.
"What’s what?"
"That column over there... it looks like"
Tyric followed the direction of where Hopp’s hand was pointed. IN the distance, and alarmingly close to the spire was a thin, wafting streak that he would have missed had his attention not been directed to it.
"It’s... smoke"
"And where there’s smoke, there’s fire made by..."
"Intelligent beings dangeroulsy close to an ominous lair."
"Um... Not quite what I had in mind, but that works."
The pair dashed downwards and headed in the direction of the smoke, as well as the tower.
The path was considerably rougher tan Tyric had remembered it had been when he had first entered Sifune. With almost every step he had made, there had been an unruly root for his feet or an obstinate branch for his face. He glanced over at Hopp and was slightly pleased to see that she was only faring a little better.
"Is the path usually this rough?"
"Just be glad there is a path" She mumbled back. Hopp abruptly stopped, nearly causing Tyric to trip into her. "Ewwww.. what is this?!" The trees in front of them were covered with patches of a disgusting brown film, as well as dirty networks of grey webbing, and even looked burnt away in some parts. The sight triggered something in Tyric’s mind.
"The fight with the Weavers in the forest- one of them sprayed something at me that smoked like acid... It made a mark like this on the tree it struck."
Hopp nudged the webbing a little with her staff, promptly causing the strands to burst and release a whole bunch of bones. Tyric felt like he was going to be sick. He and Hopp reluctantly picked through the pile, opening others that they found, and found a small assortment that only humanoids would use. After they were done (or decided they couldn’t take anymore), they searched the forest and eventually came to a spot where foliage was shielding light from a campfire.
