Interlude 1

[Darren]

"Bloody Hells," Kal mutters, shrinking back as the light crosses his leg. His head darts back and forth, then he crouches and moves quickly to where the centaurs are. "We need to keep moving in that direction," he says quietly, indicating the way they've been traveling, "but we can't go this way. Can you find us a parallel path?"

[Marcy]

"Wait, Kal," Charis whispers. "I think it's the Dissolution -- ir'Turian's ship. Are you sure we want to let it out of sight?"

[Darren]

"I'm willing to bet they're looking for us," Kal whispers. "That means we probably want to be as far out of sight as possible. Even with our friends here, I don't think we can take on an entire airship full of ir'Turien's men and machines." Kalarian looks grimly up at the ship. "Besides, it looks like they're going the same way as us, so we may run into them again."

[Ken]

"For what it's worth, I agree," whispers Belarin. Since the group's encounter with the fey, the shadows eerily seem to cling to him a little more than they do to the others. "A battle versus unseen numbers who have the advantage of height ... I prefer not."

[Joe]

Streko glowers at Belarin. "Height may be an advantage for some, but a disadvantage for others." He looks up at the departing craft. "Unfortunately, I have to agree with you in this instance. If I never see another warforged, it might be too soon."

He looks around, suddenly embarassed. "I didn't mean to say that out loud. My apologies..."

[Josh]

Grafth watches the airship and his companions silently, waiting until they are ready to continue onward.

[Jeff]

The airship soon drifts out of sight without incident, moving slightly faster than you had been before. It continues in the general direction you were traveling, but even the lanternlight fades away into the gloom eventually.

The centaurs ask no questions—the male, especially, with his no-nonsense attitude and non-prying tendencies—reminds the rest of you a little bit of Grafth. They soon resume the march, though the path now seems to zigzag a little bit more than before, perhaps out of caution. Both fey equine folk stray their eyes to the sky whenever there is a break.

Two more hours pass uneventfully in what you take to be a east-southeasterly direction. At last, you approach the lip of a shallow ravine. The male centaur stops at the very edge and points with his bow.

"Beyond the next ridge you will find the fallen vessel," he says. He turns and looks to Grafth. "If you return to the Whisper Woods again and venture this far in, do not assume that all my people's tribes will be friendly to you. Should you chance upon any of my kin, speak my name to them—Cylleran—and it may stay their arrows long enough for parley."

He nods his head, as formal a farewell as he offers.

The lady centaur bows again in her elegant manner. She smiles at Streko. "May the spirits guard you, little one, and your friends."

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If you have anything else to add, please do so soon. Chapter 5 will begin soon and I will lock this thread.

[Josh]

The shifter is still, then nods in understanding to Cylleran. "Your solicitude is greatly appreciated."

[Marcy]

Charis inclines her head towards the centaurs and says simply, "Thank you for all your help."

[Ken]

Belarin adds simply, "My thanks also. Fare you well."

[Jeff]

Both centaurs gallop off into the forest, leaving you to advance alone.