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>>6341563
Nevertheless, you and the entourage began crossing the outermost treelines of the Rieswald. Like many forests found in Greifswald, it was dominated by pine, spruce and oak, flat of ground and very dense with undergrowth. It was also mostly sparsely populated, even more so than usual, save for a few of the lodges and cabins of the foresters, huntsmen, and other woodsmen who lived in relative isolation.

It was for these parts of the journey that you had brought along your Oberjägermeister (High Master of the Hunt). One Hermann von Weitzenhof, one of the few nobles of mixed heritage, a Tauten father, and a mother descended from one of the old pagan Lauvanian kings.

And he did fit the look: dark of hair, keen of eye, and very perceptive. Aside from his court position, he was also a Hauptmann (captain) with the forest rangers, men-at-arms who patrolled the woodlands.

It was as you came to a halt for the midday rest and meal that he approached in a clearing, while your cooks were preparing a dish of fowl roasted over an open fire. He dropped a piece of torn cloth into your hands, soft to the touch, patterned with a flower motif. Clearly a piece of highborn clothing.

''Where did you find this?'' You asked, looking at the edges where the loose threads had frayed.

"I found it caught on a thorn bush a few hundred metres up the road; it smelt of lavender and had a hint of perfume," He replied, his eyes briefly trailing off to the trees behind you.

''Is that so?'' You brought it closer to your nose, and it most definitely was lavender; the other stuff must be one of those new Mithradian perfumes that had become fashionable after your wife had introduced them from her homeland. Whatever it was, it was a bit too thick for your liking.

''It's fresh, is it not? Whoever it belonged to must have lost it recently?'' You asked; the huntsman simply nodded. He didn't speak further, but you knew what he was waiting for, like a hound awaiting the slip.

>Gather the men; we're going manhunting.
>Invesitgate this further, but I shall continue on schedule.
>*throw it into the fire* Enough of that, let us continue.

>>6341568
>Gather the men; we're going manhunting
Good to see you are back AdleQM

>>6341568
>Gather the men; we're going manhunting.

>>6341568
>>Gather the men; we're going manhunting.


Welcome back!

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''Gather the men; we're going manhunting.'' Finally, some action, the opportunity to prowl around in the forest for a while, and to gather some clues. As soon as the meal had been eaten, the lot of you went on to where the huntmaster had found that piece of cloth.

The thornbush that it had been found on had some other pieces on it as well, but aside from that there was not much; the dry weather made it so only on the road were there tracks; in the soft ground of the forest there was nothing. The men split up to cover more ground; the scenthounds were distributed to give each group a better chance of picking up a trail.

''So what do you think it is?'' You asked while the hound you had taken kept his nose close to the ground.

''Well, your majesty, I am – oh, give me a moment here, sniff, boy, sniff it; the damn thing stinks like it would make your nose bleed.'' He said while keeping the piece of cloth close to the dog.

''The truth of the matter, my lord, is that I think it isn't as big as they claim it is. Do you really believe those claims that Schmallhausen or Merckhayn are werewolves, vampires or part of some weird cult? Gossip for young lordlings to gush under the influence of too many drinks – a load of rubbish if you ask me.'' He adjusted his fur cap a bit and then let the hound lead him on.

The search went on, the hound leading you past the many great towers of wood that nature had so proudly erected here, their canopy protecting you from the worst excesses of the sun. There always was something magical about these forests, even without the fey inhabiting them, for they seemed ancient, even more so than the oldest of elves.

The flat ground meant that you could still keep in contact with the other groups, even if only through hand signals and shouting. Still, you had your day's work cut out for you.

To gather more clues as to their whereabouts, roll a 1d100 [DC70]; currently you have one clue. To find what you are looking for, you need eight clues.

Rolled 77 (1d100)

>>6341818

Rolled 66 (1d100)

>>6341818
welcome back

Rolled 26 (1d100)

>>6341818

The search went on, the hounds keeping their masters close at the heel as they followed the scent of their quarry. The dense undergrowth made progress slow, but determination and sleuthing would make up for nature's obstacles.

Still, your hound did soon pick up the scent familiar to the one you had given in, dragging both you and the huntsmaster along for the chase. It led you to another clearing, where, under a lonesome oak tree, there lay something glimmering in the fading light of the setting sun. As you approached, you realised it was a golden pendant. The main gem it held had been set most masterfully, but the chain had been torn and broken, the metal twisted and mangled. You picked it up.

''If nothing else, we are a step in the right direction,'' you said.

''Hrmph, I suppose so,'' the huntsmaster grumbled, eyeing the pendant warily.

''Come, my lord, the sun is beginning to set, and the camp is waiting for us.'' Aye, your eyes were getting weary, and your stomach began to growl, even if you would've preferred to pursue, but you should take care not to overburden yourself.

As the sun thus began to set, the search would have to be paused for now; it would be considered unseemly for the king to stumble about in the dark, and the men and dogs were getting tired besides.

Dinner itself proved to be of an improvised but very edible nature: a boar some of the royal entourage had been able to shoot, some forest fruits, and a hearty stew made from foraged vegetables. The flickering firelight danced on all your faces; it was summer still, but the night had proven itself uncharacteristically cool for the time of year.

It was while you were busy finishing with the berries and savouring the last bites of stew that the huntsmaster came with another clue: A piece of parchment, torn and weathered, with a message scrawled across it in faded ink.

''They found it on the corpse of some fellow slumped under some bush, not far from where we are now,'' the huntsmaster explained solemnly. The message itself seemed to be missing a few pieces, as dew had damaged the ink and blurred some of the words.

The missive read: Come hither at once; we must (…) plans shall proceed ahead of (…) do not interfere with the royal (…) his time shall come (…) the climax shall soon be within reach; bide your time until then. (…) have any and all monks of St Almeric who interfere eliminated (…) send word to Dornheim; he might (…) We shall meet at (…) in the ruins surrounding the evergreen oak. Have patience, brethren, for soon there shall be a great reckoning.

>>6342296
You were immediately stung into action, a conspiracy! Or at the very least a plot here, in the Rieswald itself, right under your nose. You are half a mind to muster the guards and pluck this forest intrigue out by its roots, but that might spook them into hiding, so you need to be subtle.

''An evergreen oak; were this winter it would have been easy.'' You bemoaned.

''Indeed, but I do not think all is lost that easily. The letter mentions ruins surrounding the oak, and from what I can remember there are three great ruins in these parts, all of them from the olden pagan days. First there is the old hillfort at Dievenlat, then there is the destroyed temple at Verdena, and finally the old burial mound at Kaldur.'' He explained.

Hmmm, the temple would be the obvious place to search, but that might make it too obvious. The hillfort can be a good place to start looking as well but is probably too secular. The mound at Kaldur might also host them, but it's difficult to say for certain that they would be there.

But in the end, you set out for.

>The hillfort
>The burial mound
>The old pagan temple

>>6342297
>The burial mound

>>6342297
>The burial mound

>>6342297
>>The old pagan temple

Ruins surrounding a tree, makes me lean towards a temple

>>6342297
>The hillfort
If it was the mound or the temple, the writer would've probably just called it thus. A hillfort though is harder to identify as such.

The burial mound was where the pagan kings of old would bury their dead; with the coming of the crusaders, these ancient structures fell out of use as the Curian church began erecting burial grounds in accordance with the pontiff's dogma. If nothing else, it would be a good place to begin searching.

''Let us go to that burial mound then; even if there's nothing there, it would do me good to see some of this fair country's history before we Tauten brought it into the light.'' You said to your huntsmaster.

''Indeed so, I will talk with the caravanmaster to change the route; it will take about the morning to get there if we rise early.'' Weitzenhof estimated, tallying with his fingers, though he missed one on his left hand.

The next morrow, you set out with your entire entourage to travel to this burial mound. For extra safety, you began wearing armour once more, as you were beginning to feel less safe in this Rieswald. As you rode, it would seem nearly as though the past whispered through the trees, which made you even more distrustful.

The roads became trails, the undergrowth denser, and the path less trodden; the wilderness truly beckoned. As you strayed ever further from the civilized castles, fields, mills and churches, the rumours among the common soldiers started to shift as well, as the rumours turned from vampires and werewolves to the evil worshippers of the pagan gods of old, who were offering sacrifices for blasphemous powers or scheming to turn Greifswald away from the light, hearsay, the lot of it.

Still, it should be easy to recognize; the mound itself would probably still be clear, and perhaps the evergreen oak would be located at the top, though you doubted that; the smaller mounds you had seen typically were bare and devoid of any vegetation save some grass and flowers.

To your disappointment and relief, there was a tree growing on top of the burial mound, though it wasn't an oak but an ash. Ancient it most certainly was. The stem was gnarled and twisted but majestic in its splendour of old; the bark had come off in some places, where a new layer had sometimes already formed. Above all else, branches extended and twined in a most brilliant manner. Leaves of a deep golden green, bark of the fairest shade of brown and roots that most likely reached deep into the earth.

As for the mound itself, it had been built in a perfect circle, with twenty stones raised around it, each of them carved with a pagan idol. The entrance was likewise made from similar carved stone, though the entrance itself was sealed shut with a heavy wooden door, covered in intricate carvings depicting ancient symbols and figures.

Nevertheless, you did climb to the top of the mound, where there was left a small stone altar, surrounded by some of the roots and flowers.

As you descended from the mound, you decided to.

>Order the mound opened and searched
>Have them search the area surrounding the mound
>Move on, this is fruitless.

>>6342458
>Have them search the area surrounding the mound

I don't want to lead with disturbing the dead.

>>6342458
>Move on, this is fruitless.
Doesn't look like this is the place

>>6342458
>>Have them search the area surrounding the mound

>>6342458
>>Have them search the area surrounding the mound.

Maybe a waste of time, but since we're here...