My, what big teeth you have!

With the Sea King’s rangers gagged and bound, Galdor tracks down their horses with his hounds. He returns to our illustrious band, with the reigns of the tiny steeds in his hand. Tlat! tlat! tlat! the horses canter round and round, over and over the campground sand. Meanwhile our adventurers pack their gear, in preparation to meet up with the crystal seer. They leave their camp and the trail, marching onward toward the ridge at the edge of the vale.

They leave their camp and the trail behind and enter Tarot Grove’s uncharted wilderness. Destination: King’s Blood River. Along the way old gnarled, knotted, crooked wooden signs nailed to twisted trees read “Danger, Keep Out!”, “Beware of Trolls!”, “No Rangers on Patrol”, “Enter at Your Own Risk!”. Sign…sign…everywhere a sign, yet our party pays no heed. Galdor is a brave tree-elf and no foreigner to these backwoods, the forest is his playground. His confidence is contagious. They march ever forward towards the river. After several miles the large twisted ominous tree roots become dense, the roots look alive, some appear to quiver and shake.

Galdor: “The trees are upset. Quick! We need to take a detour.”

The adventurers alter their direction, the going is very tough: steep hills, rocks, tangled roots, underbrush. The trees become more frightening. Our adventurers’ fear becomes reality when the trees begin to groan eerily “Go Home!”, “Ogre Not Welcome Here!”, “Turn Around!”, but our courageous band of adventurers trod ever onward until the roots begin to lash out at the ogre’s feet. With the arrowhead still buried in his leg Yogi falls to the ground. Finally Galdor speaks.

Galdor: “Here is a flat rock where you can rest, I will be back shortly. You will all be safe with this.”

Galdor removes a glowing blue arrowhead on a leather string from around his neck. He lashes it to Yogi’s wrist, puts the arrowhead in the cusp of the ogre’s large palm and then gently closes Yogi’s fingers around it. Yogi smiles exposing his overgrown pearly white teeth.

Galdor: “All of you huddle together around Yogi and hold hands. This arrowhead will hold the trees at bay until I get back.”

Yogi: “Where you go?”

Galdor: “To seek the guardian of the forest, for I fear the trees will never let us pass otherwise.”



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