When Hills Walk
24 of Arodus 4707 A.R. (Absalom Reckoning)
There are no screams of anguish, no gnashing of teeth at souls slipping away as the strange faceless figure slips under the muck of the bog, but you are content with the silence. Gorok had spoken to his people and given them the gift of steel and he had chosen to remain with you, Mina, and Cob. That is worth more than you are willing to say aloud, maybe more than you know
how to say aloud. It is not just the competence with which he leads the now far larger company though the sodden woods, it's not just that he knows how to hunt in this alien land that would leave you skulking about and hoping you'd stumble on your next meal by sheer chance. It's all that and enjoying the familiar smell of skewered meat by the campfire when you wake up, it's passing shifts and spending half a bell moving on the road ahead in the mind's eye. If anything your friend seems larger and more commanding in the company of the young hunters, hanging on his every word, at least according to Mina.
As for Mina she was a little awkward taking the ring, unsure about wearing that much gold, To tell the truth she has a point, you'd worry about someone trying to cut it off finger and all to steal it, but when you share the thought she looks at you oddly. "Not really something I was worrying about before you brought it up."
"Ah, my apologies," you duck your head, to avoid the low branch up ahead, or so you tell yourself. "Than what's the problem?"
"It's made of gold, bugs and Desna knows what else." Realizing that you still don't understand the problem, she adds: "It looks gouache and unlovely."
"Oh..." To tell the truth of not wanting a treasure because it clashes with one's expected aesthetic sounds utterly mad, the kind of madness that only those truly blessed of good fortune can partake in.
"Back at the abbey if someone had walked in wearing something like this the sisters would have worried that they cut it off someone's fingers, or worse robbed a tomb."
"Don't worry about it lass," Iolda offers gently as she comes alongside. "The sort of folk who will whisper over a ring will have other things to worry about."
As though to drive the point home Cob falls out of the tree you had just passed with a surprisingly soft thump, or as he will no doubt insist, he had meant to get down. "There's a hill rolling up ahead!"
"A rock-slide?" Mina asks confused.
Cob Knowledge (Local): 1d20+6 = 18 (Success)
"Nope, nope, a
hill that shuffles around, as big around as two trees, ten whole feet tall, over by the path where three pointy rocks're fallen and there's some dead 'uns there as well but I couldn't see much from where I was hid other than they were more of those stinky thorn-bush folk," he continues his report.
"Do you mean a black rose?" she asks. "Why would you think roses are stinky?"
"Makes me sneeze," Cob shrugs.
"Back on track here, how many bodies are we talking about and do they have their armor?" These ones you would be able to strip and you know all too well just how valuable armor can be , especially well made armor.
"Four, yup all snug like a snail in a shell," your friend pauses, then feels the need to add. "A dead snail. The walking hill looked kind of beat up too "
From the sudden look of worry Iolda can well guess what's going though your mind. "Running off to fight a shamblin' hillock isn't keeping us safe, it's bringing more danger on us."
Does Kori think the party should do?
[] Go around the unexpected scene, you do not need more trouble
[] Fight the creature for the bodies of its latest victims
-[] Write in plan
[] Write in
OOC: Cob grew up in a forest hence being able to identify some forest denizens like a shambling mound with knowledge local. 
