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[Silcugar]

Derelict Shack
^{Tyr, Rathgar}

The area outside the shack indicates that, indeed, there has been little recent activity. A crude axe sits near a pile of firewood and the garden has been left to the weeds and wildlife. The treeline, while pushed back a bit, still masks any manner of creatures or dangers. A fence, of similar poor craftsmanship to the cabin, provides a small comfort, but it too has fallen apart in many places. Rathgar would note, due to his experience with nature, that this would be an extraordinarily harsh place to live. The fence, even when fully repaired, is completely inadequate to repel even mundane animals, let alone mutated beasts. One winter would push even the hardiest of survivalists to the brink.

Inside the shack, Tyr would be immediately repelled by a foul odour. Not of rot, but of pungent herbs and concoctions. Makeshift furniture litters the floor in pieces, covering deep scratches in the floorboards complemented by equally menacing marks on the walls. The scene marked either an intense struggle, or deliberate destruction. The only items that escaped the destruction were a series of glass containers on a shelf and a leather bundle containing odd metal tools. The containers, doubtlessly the source of the smell, hold liquids of earthen colors, occasionally suspending plant matter and other preserved lumps. Judging by the dust and decay, you reckon no one has been here in several weeks, at least.

Middle Path
^Nix

Heading down the middle path shows some promise. The tree line gives way a bit, indicating at least some consistent traffic. Occasional small clearings and the presence of smaller 'shrines' along the way reinforce the idea that someone used this trail recently. Soon, Nix could hear the faint but distinct ambiance of human activity in the distance. Before he neared the source, though, he came upon a curious sight. A small, hunched over humanoid, perhaps the size of a small dog, huddled over a pile of indistinct metal items. It mumbled to itself as it arranged the pile hurriedly. "Always trouble in the woods, never easy! Poor weaving is to blame. Stupid!"

[NRDL]

"Hail!...sir?  Have you seen a man come by here, or any groups of men?  Do you live here?"

[S34N1C]

Search for a journal or record of some kind. Perhaps the person who made these left behind something to tell what they are and what they do.

[Dwarmin]

Kat had no desire to dismount her horse, and get jumped by some sort of monster men lurking in the trees-the others had that part all handled-but, she could try and decipher the strange writing at the altar...she knew the man named Nix was an honest penitent, and strong as a mutant-ox, and sort of handsome, but he wasn't the most agile of mind or body. While Kat didn't have any real formal education, she had always had an ear for language due to her nature as a musician, and had picked up near four dozen different sorts of dialects from twice as many languages. Mostly, she used it to curse people when they couldn't understand her, but occasionally it had a more constructive use.

Action: I'll investigate the shrine as well and see if I decipher any of the writing

[Silcugar]

Derelict Shack
^{Tyr, Rathgar}

Upon close inspection, you find dirt-encrusted labels tied to the containers. However, the writing is both horribly sloppy and faded with extreme age. Even if you knew the language, it would be difficult to read. Further investigation around the rubble strewn room yields no great bounty, but you do find six small metal coins of ambiguous worth. Everything else on the floor is trash: pieces of splintered wood, worn out torches, tarnished paper, and occasional bones of small game.

There are five containers, all roughly the same size and containing god knows what.

Middle Path
^Nix

The thing jumps a good three feet off the ground when you call to it. It scurries around madly, but seems torn between staying with the pile and running into the woods. As you get closer, you see how truly revolting it is. Patches of thin hair dot its taught, pale hide, and its remotely human face is punctuated with two beady, close-set eyes. It is far too timid to be a goblinoid, and not near confident enough to be even a lesser demon.

"Um, yes! Many men live here, and I am too. We own these trees and things, and as the law of man goes, you cannot come closer!" He stands as tall as he can, revealing a emaciated, pathetic form. You note that he stands close to the pile, unwilling to move away.

Shrine Junction
^Kat

The writing on the shrine, while mostly crude, is definitely of a unified tongue. It's not a language you know, but most regional dialects descend from a common tongue shared in the old world, many of which you've been familiarized with in your travels. Still, reading a language and speaking one is very different. Lucky for you that your discipline affords you some skill in the area.

Many of the runes are too hastily constructed to decipher, but the fine writing of the ground and around the central basin give you some clues. The most distinct of the runes bear a subtle resemblance to those in the 'formal' tongue used by the lairds and mainland civilization. They represent concepts like movement, protection, travel, and luck. After some time, you see a resemblance in the structure of the writing and in the shrine as a whole to make a reliable guess: this is a wayshrine, or a shrine used to protect travelers. Though the nuances of this specific shrine are impossible to know without consulting the locals, the idea of protecting travelers and vagrants is universal. The basin in the centre, house to some rotting thing at the moment, is likely meant to receive sacrifice in exchange for good luck.

Most notable of your findings, though, are specific runes placed around the basin. You've never seen them before, and they lack any kind of familiarity. Normally, one would assume some divergence in dialect was to blame, but when you focus on the runes, you feel a slight wave of nausea pass. It only happens once, though.

After a small while of study, you feel a gauntlet lay on your shoulder. You turn to find Pesc, who bore an awkward, concerned look. "Careful, miss, you can't be too careful around... things like this. And the rot... Not meant for your senses." He moves closer to the shrine, close enough to see how badly his face is scarred. "I'd like to apologize, miss. It wasn't my idea to bring you and the other girl along. The wizard insisted, you see. This is dangerous work, meant for men with constitution. You'll forgive me, I hope." He keeps his eyes on the shrine, and stays a little too close to you.

[S34N1C]

Pocket the coins, exit the shack and scout outside

[Silcugar]

((Oops. Clarification: There are five glass containers, on the shelf. The pungent ones. All crates, if there were any, have been destroyed.))

[NRDL]

"Please, relax.  You're no threat.  We mean you no harm.  We're just looking for our own."

Move past the little creature, give it a wide berth so it doesn't get further wound up, keep scouting ahead.

[Beirus]

Rathgar walks the perimeter to see if he finds any fresh beast tracks.

[Dwarmin]

After a small while of study, you feel a gauntlet lay on your shoulder. You turn to find Pesc, who bore an awkward, concerned look. "Careful, miss, you can't be too careful around... things like this. And the rot... Not meant for your senses." He moves closer to the shrine, close enough to see how badly his face is scarred. "I'd like to apologize, miss. It wasn't my idea to bring you and the other girl along. The wizard insisted, you see. This is dangerous work, meant for men with constitution. You'll forgive me, I hope." He keeps his eyes on the shrine, and stays a little too close to you.

She smiled gratefully, a well practiced gesture.

"I thank you for your concerns on me, Herra Pesc, and if a forgiveness is needed I give it. I am not strong like you, but I do hope not so meek, that I wouldn't face dangers as a Laird ought to."

Kat took another look at the shrine, averting her eyes from the strange runes.

"Nothing I know of magick, but I know it can hurt you. What danger do you think this altar holds? I can read some of the runes of my knowing...they are meant to bless lonely travelers with good omens, clear weather and Gods speed. But, the runes around the basin-with the Rot-are unknown to me, and chill my heart-as if by evil spell, or foul vapors...

Also, we were lead thinking that the Wizard had his task apart from ours. Was my coming something he foretold as a part of his task, or ours, or something nearly all together?

You may forgive me, in turn, if my curious nature happens upon things I'd be better for not knowing. But, I am curious. They do say curiosity is the death of cats-forgiving me as well, for that play of words-but, cats also have nineteen lives. Me, I'd rather die eighteen times curiously, then die once a time as an ignorant. If you ken me' wyld words, Herra."

[Silcugar]

Derelict Shack
^{Tyr, Rathgar}

Tyr gleans no insight different than Rathgar, but finds the scene reflects the derelict nature of the inside of the shack.

The area outside the shack indicates that, indeed, there has been little recent activity. A crude axe sits near a pile of firewood and the garden has been left to the weeds and wildlife. The treeline, while pushed back a bit, still masks any manner of creatures or dangers. A fence, of similar poor craftsmanship to the cabin, provides a small comfort, but it too has fallen apart in many places.

The timelines appear to match up. Whatever happened in the cabin forced the owner away for good.

Rathgar, looking closely for tracks, happens upon a near invisible trail thanks to his survival skills, and a bit of luck. But this trail did not belong to a beast, but a man. Not only that, but it was deliberately masked on top of the natural decay. Assuming Tyr tags along, the two carefully follow the trail. Rathgar loses the trail at times, but eventually the two come upon a macabre scene. A desiccated body, wrapped in thick fur and blackened with age, shoved between two fallen trees. The unfortunate soul was burned, maimed, and ritually carved with foreign symbols. In his shriveled hand, clutched a thin yellow-glass stiletto, warm to the touch and delicate as spring ice.

Middle Path
^Nix

Nix finds the path far too narrow to give the creature ample space. Even so, the thing loses heart as Nix moves closer, bolting into the trees with desperate speed.

When closer, you find the pile not only composed of metal items, but mixed with stale bread and fruit. The pile sits upon a torn cloth, too small to carry the load. For what reason he was toting this garbage you cannot fathom: broken tools, warped cutlery, and jagged bits of metal. One thing piques your interest: a unique brooch. While old and tarnished, it undoubtedly bears the mark of the lairds...

Shrine Junction
^Kat

Pesc shuffles a bit when Kat apologizes, and nods dumbly to her wordplay, but listens intently to her concerns about the runes. "You can suss all that out? Impressive stuff! But... I don't know the first thing about this heathen scratching. Good thing we have a wizard, eh?

"Oh, and, uh... His is a task only really known to him and my superiors. He said you-- and the other one, the old man, were crucial to our success. Don't know if that meant our mission, his, or both. He wouldn't say, you know how magic folk are. I'll fetch him, he'll be able to find any curses in these scribbles."

Soon enough, Pesc returns, with the wizard and his allies behind. The magician, Klanik, sidles up to the alter with an odd gait. He seemed pale, sick even. Some vigour returns to him when he spots the runes. "Ah... it is magic after all. Perhaps the work of demons? Whatever it is, it is not of humors, my specialty. It seems to... alter the body in some way? The magic is old-- not ancient, but a weak spell already spent. It imposes no threat, but is definitely curious..." he trails off, taking a long knife from his satchel and carefully carving away at the shrine, collecting wood chips from the affected area.

The mood of the air seems to drop as he does this, a slight feeling of loss or sadness passes through Kat. Looking to the others, it seems they were affected the same way.

[NRDL]

"Scavenger, or murderer..."

Pick up brooch, keep scouting ahead.

[S34N1C]

"Yikes. What a bad way to go."

Get closer and carefully examine the stiletto. If it can be removed without breaking it, do so. 

[Dwarmin]

Kat was instantly reminded of her strongest melancholy, a wound still lingering-her brother, long lost...she sniffled a bit.

"Ah, that...feeling. You all just felt something as I.

Does that have any meaning to you, Wizard?"

[Beirus]

"Poor bastard. How about you don't touch the corpse and fuck with whatever magic they were trying to do. That wizard with the group can look over it once we find a way forward." Rathgar says to Tyr. If Tyr continues to try and mess with the corpse or dagger, he will forcibly restrain him. If Tyr decides not to jeopardize their lives, then Rathgar searches the area around the corpse for any more signs before heading back to the group and reporting their findings. He also keeps an eye on the surroundings to make sure nothing sneaks up on them.