Our group, with a new piece in hand set out from the accursed plateau making no short work of our exit. It was quickly decided to follow the river with some input from Riardon that led us to believe we should at some point a city would rest upon its shores. I myself find his poor knowledge of the feywild, (a place one would assume an Eladrin would have known at some point in its life and put at least a small extent of the vast knowledge they can hold towards) to be a bit unsettling.
Luckily the logic was sound and soon small signs to even my elven eyes was beginning to be noticed, but of course this came at a cost. For soon a crashing thru the underbrush was obvious, but whatever it was had not noted our presence. I crept ahead and managed to catch a glimpse of a Wereboar and made myself useful with some strategic positioning, while noting kekui had appeared opposite myself. I realize now he has a propensity for making himself scarce at times and his quiet demeanor make so as his lack of contribution means he will slip away from the group for periods of time, not that I mind his return seeing as he always makes himself useful when we share company.
I digress; taking note that the wereboar would soon scent my group upstream I rapidly gained some height in branches near me and lept from my hiding place bow hefted above my head and swung it down upon the head of the unsuspecting lycanthrope. Taking notice again that with impact the peculiar Elukian Clay makes a almost hollowed ‘kabong’ thud… Perhaps this is befitting a nickname? This warrants further contemplation. Again I find myself sidetracked, perhaps my mind wanders in my age almost as much as I find my destiny meandering, listless and unable to accept a simple fate.
(Work In Progress: covering events from leaving garden of graves til arrival at fortress city)