The adventurers take time to rest near the fire in front of the orcs’ cave and tend to their wounds. It’s around midday when they stand and stretch and look for anything of value the orcs may have been holding. Dare searches Brughor, the leader, and finds a few coins as well as a necklace made of elf ears. Lilvari wrinkles her nose at his find, and Mystic says, “Eew! Some of those ears are still dripping blood.” Dare shrugs and puts it on anyway.

They then search the cave. They find beds and piles of hay. They also find two crates brimming with elf ears and a decent amount of coin. As they put it in their packs, they wonder how many homesteads and travelers were robbed or worse in order to make such an amount. It’s a good feeling to know the orcs will hurt no one else.

They head out of the cave with Dare in the lead. Lilvari follows with the rest in tow. She hears a noise coming from outside — a gnashing, gnawing sound, the sound of creatures feeding. She reaches for Dare but she’s too late. He’s stepped into the light. Directly ahead of him are six gray wolves. Their heads snap up when they hear him.  Their maws are stained red with blood. Their meals forgotten, they charge. 

As always the adventurers fight with everything they have.  Dare takes the lead. Several wolves charge him, taking him down. Mercarri conjures her misty, brown mace and while attacking one wolf, another jumps her from behind. Lilvari summons Curse Bringer and dispatches one wolf, then using exceptional speed, is able to pivot towards another, bringing the blade down in a vicious arc, wounding it gravely. Mystic watches the scene unfold from the mouth of the cave. She closes her eyes and thinks of a vicious predator, one that would tear the wolves into shreds. When she opens her eyes, she’s a black bear. She barrels towards the action, swiping at the wolves with her claws and trying to bite at them with her razor-sharp teeth.

The adventurers, still weary from their last battle, are able to vanquish the wolves, but its not without a price. While Mercarri was fighting off one wolf, another attacked from behind, tearing a large chunk of flesh from her body. The wolf is quickly slain by the others, but not before it’s done its damage. Mercarri slips into unconsciousness. Its only after the last wolf is destroyed that the adventurers are able to tend to Mercarri’s wounds. They stabilize her, then rest until they recover a bit more.

Once recovered, they decide to to head to The Old Owl’s Well, since it isn’t far from where they are now — maybe a day’s travel or so. They travel nightfall then setup camp. They eat their rations then turn in for a night’s rest. Mystic takes third watch. About halfway through, she feels the sharp tip of a blade against the back of her neck. Someone in a gruff voice whispers, “Give me your money or I’ll slash your throat.”

Under her breath, Mystic utters the phrase to call forth her Wild Shape ability. In front of their eyes, she starts to transform into a constrictor snake. The thugs manage to stab at her while she’s transforming, but Mystic hurriedly slithers to her friends. Mercarri is the closest. Mystic slaps her across the face with her tail, and Mercarri bolts upright. Immediately she sees the danger — two hobgoblin thugs. She rouses the party and they take on the hobgoblins.

Mystic stays in snake form and constricts the nearest hobgoblin. It’s the one who stabbed her, and she takes a bit of pleasure in hearing its bones crack as she squeezes. Mercarri, mace drawn, attempts to finish the hobgoblin off. She climbs up Mystic’s body in order to get closer, but slips. The swing of her mace misses. Lilvari has no such trouble. She scales Mystic’s body with ease and swings Curse Bringer true, severing the hobgoblin’s head neatly from its body. Dare plunges Talon into the chest of the second hobgoblin, ending him. The day has been quite a busy one, and luckily they are able to sleep the rest of the night with no interruptions.

They reach The Old Owl Well the next day. It’s an abandoned area. Sprawled ahead of them are the crumbling remains of an old watch tower. Only mounds of rubble enclose an area where a courtyard once stood. Strangely, there’s a tent standing in the middle of that area. The party sees no signs of life however. As they approach, a faint wind whispers in from the direction of the crumbling tower. It carries the unmistakable scent of death and decay.