Edit History

Once Rodin informs the group that the reddish stains are not blood, Jessie's curiousity is further aroused causing the tiny halfling to poke around the multitude of stain spots until she finds a leaf covered with the dried reddish liquid.

Popping the reddish leaf in her mouth, the rogue allows her tongue to decipher the clues as to the source of the stain, whether it be sweet preserves, hot red peppers, spicy tomato sauce or even dry red wine, and then she informs the others what she learned after spitting out the mixture.

Of course, Jessie is also interested in the gigantic sink hole as the group passes by and asks in a low tone, "It's obvious the folks we are tracking steer clear of that large sink hole over yonder."

"But what do you suppose caused it to form," the tiny halfling burglar asks her companions in the same low voice?  "Underground dungeon works, collapsed tunnel, failed well and cistern, or simple event of nature?"
_________________________________________________________________________________

However, the halfling's curiosity peeks even more when the group follows the voluminous tracks to a dead-end atop a hillside overlooking the nearby ruins.  Given the debris littering the hillside, which of course Jessie is forced to poke through by habit, it's clear that large groups of 'somebodies' moved through this way even to a non-tracker.

Unable to resist, the halfling rogue carefully investigates the strange scene, looking beyond the ended tracks, circling around the top of the hillock, walking forward in the track marks to where they end, throwing stones ahead to watch for any reactions, using smoke drifting through the air to the place the tracks were lost from different angles to see what occurs, all in an attempt to decipher the clues at hand.

"They came through here alright and by the looks of it this place has been used by a large group more than once in the past," Jessie says.  "Well, I can't track where they've gone and I don't have any magic solutions for this conundrum, but I can at least know if they use this hillside again in the near future," she adds with a smile.

Gathering five small yet stout twigs, the diminutive rogue takes a spool of fine thread out of her pack and plants the small sticks upright in the ground allowing her to string a nearly invisible thread across the path of tracks about ankle high which blends in quite well with nature.

"There, that will tell us is this hillside is used as a highway again in the near future," Jessie says in the same low tone with a satisfied grin.  Standing watch while the others take time to look around and do their 'magiks,' the tiny cutpurse also indicates her readiness to explore Vulture Roost over yonder when her friends are ready to move out.
__________________________________________________________________________________

As the group approaches the Roost, Jessie knows in her heart what the circling buzzards mean and her nose confirms these suspicions long before any of the dead bodies were found.  However, it was the shocking state of the disturbed make-shift graves that hurt her tiny heart the most.

However, rather than gagging or retreating from the macabre sight, Jessie draws a black bladed knife in the flash of an eye from gods knows where and freezes as she scours the surrounding environs for the sight or sound of movement or anything unusual, while also silently praying for the fallen.

Assuming the coast seems clear, the halfling will eventually nod in the affirmative to her colleagues before beginning the unenviable task of picking through the desecrated graves whispering, "I'm looking for anything to identify them, but my guess is these are the missing soldiers."  Unfortunately, she comes up empty.

Nonetheless, business was business and, after wiping her blade on a nearby leaf, Jessie uses water from her skin to clean her knife before restoring it to a hidden ankle holster.  Next, the lass uses water to clean herself up from the gory task that necessity and good will toward the villagers and their families dictated.  

Jessie knew about tribes, clans and loyalty, and this was the same; after all family was family and she owed them her best.  With a final funerary prayer in her mind, the diminutive rogue stows her skin and says in a low voice, "I couldn't find any proof of their identiy and there is nothing left to bury now.  Best to move on to the ruins."

Once Rodin informs the group that the reddish stains are not blood, Jessie's curiousity is further aroused causing the tiny halfling to poke around the multitude of stain spots until she finds a leaf covered with the dried reddish liquid.

Popping the reddish leaf in her mouth, the rogue allows her tongue to decipher the clues as to the source of the stain, whether it be sweet preserves, hot red peppers, spicy tomato sauce or even dry red wine, and then she informs the others what she learned after spitting out the mixture.

Of course, Jessie is also interested in the gigantic sink hole as the group passes by and asks in a low tone, "It's obvious the folks we are tracking steer clear of that large sink hole over yonder."

"But what do you suppose caused it to form," the tiny halfling burglar asks her companions in the same low voice?  "Underground dungeon works, collapsed tunnel, failed well and cistern, or simple event of nature?"
_________________________________________________________________________________

However, the halfling's curiosity peeks even more when the group follows the voluminous tracks to a dead-end atop a hillside overlooking the nearby ruins.  Given the debris littering the hillside, which of course Jessie is forced to poke through by habit, it's clear that large groups of 'somebodies' moved through this way even to a non-tracker.

Unable to resist, the halfling rogue carefully investigates the strange scene, looking beyond the ended tracks, circling around the top of the hillock, walking forward in the track marks to where they end, throwing stones ahead to watch for any reactions, using smoke drifting through the air to the place the tracks were lost from different angles to see what occurs, all in an attempt to decipher the clues at hand.

"They came through here alright and by the looks of it this place has been used by a large group more than once in the past," Jessie says.  "Well, I can't track where they've gone and I don't have any magic solutions for this conundrum, but I can at least know if they use this hillside again in the near future," she adds with a smile.

Gathering five small yet stout twigs, the diminutive rogue takes a spool of fine thread out of her pack and plants the small sticks upright in the ground allowing her to string a nearly invisible thread across the path of tracks about ankle high which blends in quite well with nature.

"There, that will tell us is this hillside is used as a highway again in the near future," Jessie says in the same low tone with a satisfied grin.  Standing watch while the others take time to look around and do their 'magiks,' the tiny cutpurse also indicates her readiness to explore Vulture Roost over yonder when her friends are ready to move out.
__________________________________________________________________________________

As the group approaches the Roost, Jessie knows in her heart what the circling buzzards mean and her nose confirms these suspicions long before any of the dead bodies were found.  However, it was the shocking state of the disturbed make-shift graves that hurt her tiny heart the most.

However, rather than gagging or retreating from the macabre sight, Jessie draws a black bladed knife in the flash of an eye from gods knows where and freezes as she scours the surrounding environs for the sight or sound of movement or anything unusual, while also silently praying for the fallen.

Assuming the coast seems clear, the halfling will eventually nod in the affirmative to her colleagues before beginning the unenviable task of picking through the desecrated graves whispering, "I'm looking for anything to identify them, but my guess is these are the missing soldiers."  Unfortunately, she comes up empty.

Nonetheless, business was business and, after wiping her blade on a nearby leaf, Jessie uses water from her skin to clean her knife before restoring it to a hidden ankle holster.  Next, the lass uses water to clean herself up from the gory task that necessity and good will toward the villagers and their families dictated.  

Jessie knew about tribes, clans and loyalty, and this was the same; after all family was family and she owed them her best.  With a final funerary prayer in her mind, the diminutive rogue stows her skin and says in a low voice, "I couldn't find any proof of their identiy and there is nothing left to bury now.  Best to move on to the ruins."
 

Once Rodin informs the group that the reddish stains are not blood, Jessie's curiousity is further aroused causing the tiny halfling to poke around the multitude of stain spots until she finds a leaf covered with the dried reddish liquid.

Popping the reddish leaf in her mouth, the rogue allows her tongue to decipher the clues as to the source of the stain, whether it be sweet preserves, hot red peppers, spicy tomato sauce or even dry red wine, and then she informs the others what she learned after spitting out the mixture.

Of course, Jessie is also interested in the gigantic sink hole as the group passes by and asks in a low tone, "It's obvious the folks we are tracking steer clear of that large sink hole over yonder."

"But what do you suppose caused it to form," the tiny halfling burglar asks her companions in the same low voice?  "Underground dungeon works, collapsed tunnel, failed well and cistern, or simple event of nature?"
_________________________________________________________________________________

However, the halfling's curiosity peeks even more when the group follows the voluminous tracks to a dead-end atop a hillside overlooking the nearby ruins.  Given the debris littering the hillside, which of course Jessie is forced to poke through by habit, it's clear that large groups of 'somebodies' moved through this way even to a non-tracker.

Unable to resist, the halfling rogue carefully investigates the strange scene, looking beyond the ended tracks, circling around the top of the hillock, walking forward in the track marks to where they end, throwing stones ahead to watch for any reactions, using smoke drifting through the air to the place the tracks were lost from different angles to see what occurs, all in an attempt to decipher the clues at hand.

"They came through here alright and by the looks of it this place has been used by a large group more than once in the past," Jessie says.  "Well, I can't track where they've gone and I don't have any magic solutions for this conundrum, but I can at least know if they use this hillside again in the near future," she adds with a smile.

Gathering five small yet stout twigs, the diminutive rogue takes a spool of fine thread out of her pack and plants the small sticks upright in the ground which allows her to string a nearly invisible thread across the path of tracks about ankle high, which blends in quite well with nature.

"There, that will tell us is this hillside is used as a highway again in the near future," Jessie says in the same low tone with a satisfied grin.  Standing watch while the others take time to look around and do their 'magiks,' the tiny cutpurse also indicates her readiness to explore Vulture Roost over yonder when her friends are ready to move out.
__________________________________________________________________________________

As the group approaches the Roost, Jessie knows in her heart what the circling buzzards mean and her nose confirms these suspicions long before any of the dead bodies were found.  However, it was the shocking state of the disturbed make-shift graves that hurt her tiny heart the most.

However, rather than gagging or retreating from the macabre sight, Jessie draws a black bladed knife in the flash of an eye from gods knows where and freezes as she scours the surrounding environs for the sight or sound of movement or anything unusual, while also silently praying for the fallen.

Assuming the coast seems clear, the halfling will eventually nod in the affirmative to her colleagues before beginning the unenviable task of picking through the desecrated graves whispering, "I'm looking for anything to identify them, but my guess is these are the missing soldiers."  Unfortunately, she comes up empty.

Nonetheless, business was business and, after wiping her blade on a nearby leaf, Jessie uses water from her skin to clean her knife before restoring it to a hidden ankle holster.  Next, the lass uses water to clean herself up from the gory task that necessity and good will toward the villagers and their families dictated.  

Jessie knew about tribes, clans and loyalty, and this was the same; after all family was family and she owed them her best.  With a final funerary prayer in her mind, the diminutive rogue stows her skin and says in a low voice, "I couldn't find any proof of their identiy and there is nothing left to bury now.  Best to move on to the ruins."
 

Once Rodin informs the group that the reddish stains are not blood, Jessie's curiousity is further aroused causing the tiny halfling to poke around the multitude of stain spots until she finds a leaf covered with the dried reddish liquid.

Popping the reddish leaf in her mouth, the rogue allows her tongue to decipher the clues as to the source of the stain, whether it be sweet preserves, hot red peppers, spicy tomato sauce or even dry red wine and then she informs the others what she learned after spitting out the mixture.

Of course, Jessie is also interested in the gigantic sink hole as the group passes by and asks in a low tone, "It's obvious the folks we are tracking steer clear of that large sink hole over yonder."

"But what do you suppose caused it to form," the tiny halfling burglar asks her companions in the same low voice?  "Underground dungeon works, collapsed tunnel, failed well and cistern, or simple event of nature?"
_________________________________________________________________________________

However, the halfling's curiosity peeks even more when the group follows the voluminous tracks to a dead-end atop a hillside overlooking the nearby ruins.  Given the debris littering the hillside, which of course Jessie is forced to poke through by habit, it's clear that large groups of 'somebodies' moved through this way even to a non-tracker.

Unable to resist, the halfling rogue carefully investigates the strange scene, looking beyond the ended tracks, circling around the top of the hillock, walking forward in the track marks to where they end, throwing stones ahead to watch for any reactions, using smoke drifting through the air to the place the tracks were lost from different angles to see what occurs, all in an attempt to decipher the clues at hand.

"They came through here alright and by the looks of it this place has been used by a large group more than once in the past," Jessie says.  "Well, I can't track where they've gone and I don't have any magic solutions for this conundrum, but I can at least know if they use this hillside again in the near future," she adds with a smile.

Gathering five small yet stout twigs, the diminutive rogue takes a spool of fine thread out of her pack and plants the small sticks upright in the ground which allows her to string a nearly invisible thread across the path of tracks about ankle high, which blends in quite well with nature.

"There, that will tell us is this hillside is used as a highway again in the near future," Jessie says in the same low tone with a satisfied grin.  Standing watch while the others take time to look around and do their 'magiks,' the tiny cutpurse also indicates her readiness to explore Vulture Roost over yonder when her friends are ready to move out.
__________________________________________________________________________________

As the group approaches the Roost, Jessie knows in her heart what the circling buzzards mean and her nose confirms these suspicions long before any of the dead bodies were found.  However, it was the shocking state of the disturbed make-shift graves that hurt her tiny heart the most.

However, rather than gagging or retreating from the macabre sight, Jessie draws a black bladed knife in the flash of an eye from gods knows where and freezes as she scours the surrounding environs for the sight or sound of movement or anything unusual, while also silently praying for the fallen.

Assuming the coast seems clear, the halfling will eventually nod in the affirmative to her colleagues before beginning the unenviable task of picking through the desecrated graves whispering, "I'm looking for anything to identify them, but my guess is these are the missing soldiers."  Unfortunately, she comes up empty.

Nonetheless, business was business and, after wiping her blade on a nearby leaf, Jessie uses water from her skin to clean her knife before restoring it to a hidden ankle holster.  Next, the lass uses water to clean herself up from the gory task that necessity and good will toward the villagers and their families dictated.  

Jessie knew about tribes, clans and loyalty, and this was the same; after all family was family and she owed them her best.  With a final funerary prayer in her mind, the diminutive rogue stows her skin and says in a low voice, "I couldn't find any proof of their identiy and there is nothing left to bury now.  Best to move on to the ruins."
 

Once Rodin informs the group that the reddish stains are not blood, Jessie's curiousity is further aroused causing the tiny halfling to poke around the multitude of stain spots until she finds a leaf covered with the dried reddish liquid.

Popping the reddish leaf in her mouth, the rogue allows her tongue to decipher the clues as to the source of the stain, whether it be sweet preserves, hot peppers or even dry red wine and then she informs the others what she learned after spitting out the mixture.

Of course, Jessie is also interested in the gigantic sink hole as the group passes by and asks in a low tone, "It's obvious the folks we are tracking steer clear of that large sink hole over yonder."

"But what do you suppose caused it to form," the tiny halfling burglar asks her companions in the same low voice?  "Underground dungeon works, collapsed tunnel, failed well and cistern, or simple event of nature?"
_________________________________________________________________________________

However, the halfling's curiosity peeks even more when the group follows the voluminous tracks to a dead-end atop a hillside overlooking the nearby ruins.  Given the debris littering the hillside, which of course Jessie is forced to poke through by habit, it's clear that large groups of 'somebodies' moved through this way even to a non-tracker.

Unable to resist, the halfling rogue carefully investigates the strange scene, looking beyond the ended tracks, circling around the top of the hillock, walking forward in the track marks to where they end, throwing stones ahead to watch for any reactions, using smoke drifting through the air to the place the tracks were lost from different angles to see what occurs, all in an attempt to decipher the clues at hand.

"They came through here alright and by the looks of it this place has been used by a large group more than once in the past," Jessie says.  "Well, I can't track where they've gone and I don't have any magic solutions for this conundrum, but I can at least know if they use this hillside again in the near future," she adds with a smile.

Gathering five small yet stout twigs, the diminutive rogue takes a spool of fine thread out of her pack and plants the small sticks upright in the ground which allows her to string a nearly invisible thread across the path of tracks about ankle high, which blends in quite well with nature.

"There, that will tell us is this hillside is used as a highway again in the near future," Jessie says in the same low tone with a satisfied grin.  Standing watch while the others take time to look around and do their 'magiks,' the tiny cutpurse also indicates her readiness to explore Vulture Roost over yonder when her friends are ready to move out.
__________________________________________________________________________________

As the group approaches the Roost, Jessie knows in her heart what the circling buzzards mean and her nose confirms these suspicions long before any of the dead bodies were found.  However, it was the shocking state of the disturbed make-shift graves that hurt her tiny heart the most.

However, rather than gagging or retreating from the macabre sight, Jessie draws a black bladed knife in the flash of an eye from gods knows where and freezes as she scours the surrounding environs for the sight or sound of movement or anything unusual, while also silently praying for the fallen.

Assuming the coast seems clear, the halfling will eventually nod in the affirmative to her colleagues before beginning the unenviable task of picking through the desecrated graves whispering, "I'm looking for anything to identify them, but my guess is these are the missing soldiers."  Unfortunately, she comes up empty.

Nonetheless, business was business and, after wiping her blade on a nearby leaf, Jessie uses water from her skin to clean her knife before restoring it to a hidden ankle holster.  Next, the lass uses water to clean herself up from the gory task that necessity and good will toward the villagers and their families dictated.  

Jessie knew about tribes, clans and loyalty, and this was the same; after all family was family and she owed them her best.  With a final funerary prayer in her mind, the diminutive rogue stows her skin and says in a low voice, "I couldn't find any proof of their identiy and there is nothing left to bury now.  Best to move on to the ruins."
 

Once Rodin informs the group that the reddish stains are not blood, Jessie's curiousity is further aroused causing the tiny halfling to poke around the multitude of stain spots until she finds a leaf covered with the dried reddish liquid.

Popping the reddish leaf in her mouth, the rogue allows her tongue to decipher the clues as to the source of the stain, whether it be sweet preserves, hot peppers or even dry red wine and then she informs the others what she learned after spitting out the mixture.

Of course, Jessie is also interested in the gigantic sink hole as the group passes by and asks in a low tone, "It's obvious the folks we are tracking steer clear of that large sink hole over yonder."

"But what do you suppose caused it to form," the tiny halfling burglar asks her companions in the same low voice?  "Underground dungeon works, collapsed tunnel, failed well and cistern, or simple event of nature?"
_________________________________________________________________________________

However, the halfling's curiosity peeks even more when the group follows the voluminous tracks to a dead-end atop a hillside overlooking the nearby ruins.  Given the debris littering the hillside, which of course Jessie is forced to poke through by habit, it's clear that large groups of 'somebodies' moved through this way even to a non-tracker.

Unable to resist, the halfling rogue carefully investigates the strange scene, looking beyond the ended tracks, circling around the top of the hillock, walking forward in the track marks to where they end, throwing stones ahead to watch for any reactions, using smoke drifting through the air to the place the tracks were lost from different angles to see what occurs, all in an attempt to decipher the clues at hand.

"They came through here alright and by the looks of it this place has been used by a large group more than once in the past," Jessie says.  "Well, I can't track where they've gone and I don't have any magic solutions for this conundrum, but I can at least know if they use this hillside again in the near future," she adds with a smile.

Gathering five small yet stout twigs, the diminutive rogue takes a spool of fine thread out of her pack and plants the small sticks upright in the ground which allows her to string a nearly invisible thread across the path of tracks about ankle high, which blends in quite well with nature.

"There, that will tell us is this hillside is used as a highway again in the near future," Jessie says in the same low tone with a satisfied grin.  Standing watch while the others take time to look around and do their 'magiks,' the tiny cutpurse also indicates her readiness to explore Vulture Roost over yonder when her friends are ready to move out.
__________________________________________________________________________________

As the group approaches the Roost, Jessie knows in her heart what the circling buzzards mean and her nose confirms these suspicions long before any of the dead bodies were found.  However, it was the shocking state of the disturbed make-shift graves that hurt her tiny heart the most.

However, rather than gagging or retreating from the macabre sight, Jessie draws a black bladed knife in the flash of an eye from gods knows where and freezes as she scours the surrounding environs for the sight or sound of movement or anything unusual, while also silently praying for the fallen.

Assuming the coast seems clear, the halfling will eventually nod in the affirmative to her colleagues before beginning the unenviable task of picking through the desecrated graves whispering, "I'm looking for anything to identify them, but my guess is these are the missing soldiers."  Unfortunately, she comes up empty.

Nonetheless, business was business and, after wiping her blade on a nearby leaf, Jessie uses water from her skin to clean her knife before restoring it to a hidden ankle holster.  Next, the lass uses water to clean herself up from the gory task that necessity and good will toward the villagers and their families dictated.  

Jessie knew about tribes, clans and loyalty, and this was the same; after all family was family and she owed them her best.  With a final funerary prayer in her mind, the diminutive rogue stows her skin and says in a low voice, "Nothing left to bury now.  Best to move on to the ruins."
 

Once Rodin informs the group that the reddish stains are not blood, Jessie's curiousity is further aroused causing the tiny halfling to poke around the multitude of stain spots until she finds a leaf covered with the dried reddish liquid.

Popping the reddish leaf in her mouth, the rogue allows her tongue to decipher the clues as to the source of the stain, whether it be sweet preserves, hot peppers or even dry red wine and then she informs the others what she learned after spitting out the mixture.

Of course, Jessie is also interested in the gigantic sink hole as the group passes by and asks in a low tone, "It's obvious the folks we are tracking steer clear of that large sink hole over yonder."

"But what do you suppose caused it to form," the tiny halfling burglar asks her companions in the same low voice?  "Underground dungeon works, collapsed tunnel, failed well and cistern, or simple event of nature?"
_________________________________________________________________________________

However, the halfling's curiosity peeks even more when the group follows the voluminous tracks to a dead-end atop a hillside overlooking the nearby ruins.  Given the debris littering the hillside, which of course Jessie is forced to poke through by habit, it's clear that large groups of 'somebodies' moved through this way even to a non-tracker.

Unable to resist, the halfling rogue carefully investigates the strange scene, looking beyond the ended tracks, circling around the top of the hillock, walking forward in the track marks to where they end, throwing stones ahead to watch for any reactions, using smoke drifting through the air to the place the tracks were lost from different angles to see what occurs, all in an attempt to decipher the clues at hand.

"They came through here alright and by the looks of it this place has been used by a large group more than once in the past," Jessie says.  "Well, I can't track where they've gone and I don't have any magic solutions for this conundrum, but I can at least know if they use this hillside again in the near future," she adds with a smile.

Gathering five small yet stout twigs, the diminutive rogue takes a spool of fine thread out of her pack and plants the small sticks upright in the ground which allows her to string a nearly invisible thread across the path of tracks about ankle high, which blends in quite well with nature.

"There, that will tell us is this hillside is used as a highway again in the near future," Jessie says in the same low tone with a satisfied grin.  Standing watch while the others take time to look around and do their 'magiks,' the tiny cutpurse also indicates her readiness to explore Vulture Roost over yonder when her friends are ready to move out.
__________________________________________________________________________________

As the group approaches the Roost, Jessie knows in her heart what the circling buzzards mean and her nose confirmed these suspicions long before any of the dead bodies were found.  However, it was the shocking state of the disturbed make-shift graves that hurt her tiny heart the most.

However, rather than gagging or retreating from the macabre sight, Jessie draws a black bladed knife in the flash of an eye from gods knows where and freezes as she scours the surrounding environs for the sight or sound of movement or anything unusual, while also silently praying for the fallen.

Assuming the coast seems clear, the halfling will eventually nod in the affirmative to her colleagues before beginning the unenviable task of picking through the desecrated graves whispering, "I'm looking for anything to identify them, but my guess is these are the missing soldiers."  Unfortunately, she comes up empty.

Nonetheless, business was business and, after wiping her blade on a nearby leaf, Jessie uses water from her skin to clean her knife before restoring it to a hidden ankle holster.  Next, the lass uses water to clean herself up from the gory task that necessity and good will toward the villagers and their families dictated.  

Jessie knew about tribes, clans and loyalty, and this was the same; after all family was family and she owed them her best.  With a final funerary prayer in her mind, the diminutive rogue stows her skin and says in a low voice, "Nothing left to bury now.  Best to move on to the ruins."
 

Once Rodin informs the group that the reddish stains are not blood, Jessie's curiousity is further aroused causing the tiny halfling to poke around the multitude of stain spots until she finds a leaf covered with the dried reddish liquid.

Popping the reddish leaf in her mouth, the rogue allows her tongue to decipher the clues as to the source of the stain, whether it be sweet preserves, hot peppers or even dry red wine and then she informs the others what she learned after spitting out the mixture.

Of course, Jessie is also interested in the gigantic sink hole as the group passes by and asks in a low tone, "It's obvious the folks we are tracking steer clear of that large sink hole over yonder."

"But what do you suppose caused it to form," the tiny halfling burglar asks her companions in the same low voice?  "Underground dungeon works, collapsed tunnel, failed well and cistern, or simple event of nature?"
_________________________________________________________________________________

However, the halfling's curiosity peeks even more when the group follows the voluminous tracks to a dead-end atop a hillside overlooking the nearby ruins.  Given the debris littering the hillside, which of course Jessie is forced to poke through by habit, it's clear that large groups of 'somebodies' moved through this way even to a non-tracker.

Unable to resist, the halfling rogue carefully pokes about the scene, looking beyond the ended tracks, circling around the top of the hillock, walking forward in the track marks to where they end, throwing stones ahead to watch for any reactions, using smoke drifting through the air to the place the tracks were lost from different angles to see what occurs, all in an attempt to decipher the clues at hand.

"They came through here alright and by the looks of it this place has been used by a large group more than once in the past," Jessie says.  "Well, I can't track where they've gone and I don't have any magic solutions for this conundrum, but I can at least know if they use this hillside again in the near future," she adds with a smile.

Gathering five small yet stout twigs, the diminutive rogue takes a spool of fine thread out of her pack and plants the small sticks upright in the ground which allows her to string a nearly invisible thread across the path of tracks about ankle high, which blends in quite well with nature.

"There, that will tell us is this hillside is used as a highway again in the near future," Jessie says in the same low tone with a satisfied grin.  Standing watch while the others take time to look around and do their 'magiks,' the tiny cutpurse also indicates her readiness to explore Vulture Roost over yonder when her friends are ready to move out.
__________________________________________________________________________________

As the group approaches the Roost, Jessie knows in her heart what the circling buzzards mean and her nose confirmed these suspicions long before any of the dead bodies were found.  However, it was the shocking state of the disturbed make-shift graves that hurt her tiny heart the most.

However, rather than gagging or retreating from the macabre sight, Jessie draws a black bladed knife in the flash of an eye from gods knows where and freezes as she scours the surrounding environs for the sight or sound of movement or anything unusual, while also silently praying for the fallen.

Assuming the coast seems clear, the halfling will eventually nod in the affirmative to her colleagues before beginning the unenviable task of picking through the desecrated graves whispering, "I'm looking for anything to identify them, but my guess is these are the missing soldiers."  Unfortunately, she comes up empty.

Nonetheless, business was business and, after wiping her blade on a nearby leaf, Jessie uses water from her skin to clean her knife before restoring it to a hidden ankle holster.  Next, the lass uses water to clean herself up from the gory task that necessity and good will toward the villagers and their families dictated.  

Jessie knew about tribes, clans and loyalty, and this was the same; after all family was family and she owed them her best.  With a final funerary prayer in her mind, the diminutive rogue stows her skin and says in a low voice, "Nothing left to bury now.  Best to move on to the ruins."
 

Once Rodin informs the group that the reddish stains are not blood, Jessie's curiousity is further aroused causing the tiny halfling to poke around the multitude of stain spots until she finds a leaf covered with the dried reddish liquid.

Popping the reddish leaf in her mouth, the rogue allows her tongue to decipher the clues as to the source of the stain, whether it be sweet preserves, hot peppers or even dry red wine and then she informs the others what she learned after spitting out the mixture.

Of course, Jessie is also interested in the gigantic sink hole as the group passes by and asks in a low tone, "It's obvious the folks we are tracking steer clear of that large sink hole over yonder."

"But what do you suppose caused it to form," the tiny halfling burglar asks her companions in the same low voice?  "Underground dungeon works, collapsed tunnel, failed well and cistern, or simple event of nature?"
_________________________________________________________________________________

However, the halfling's curiosity peeks even more when the group follows the voluminous tracks to a dead-end atop a hillside overlooking the nearby ruins.   Given the debris littering the hillside, which of course Jessie is forced to poke through by habit, it's clear that large groups of 'somebodies' moved through this way even to a non-tracker.

Unable to resist, the halfling rogue carefully pokes about the scene, looking beyond the ended tracks, circling around the top of the hillock, walking forward in the track marks to where they end, throwing stones ahead to watch for any reactions, using smoke drifting through the air to the place the tracks were lost from different angles to see what occurs, all in an attempt to decipher the clues at hand.

"They came through here alright and by the looks of it this place has been used by a large group more than once in the past," Jessie says.  "Well, I can't track where they've gone and I don't have any magic solutions for this conundrum, but I can at least know if they use this hillside again in the near future," she adds with a smile.

Gathering five small yet stout twigs, the diminutive rogue takes a spool of fine thread out of her pack and plants the small sticks upright in the ground which allows her to string a nearly invisible thread across the path of tracks about ankle high, which blends in quite well with nature.

"There, that will tell us is this hillside is used as a highway again in the near future," Jessie says in the same low tone with a satisfied grin.  Standing watch while the others take time to look around and do their 'magiks,' the tiny cutpurse also indicates her readiness to explore Vulture Roost over yonder when her friends are ready to move out.
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As the group approaches the Roost, Jessie knows in her heart what the circling buzzards mean and her nose confirmed these suspicions long before any of the dead bodies were found.  However, it was the shocking state of the disturbed make-shift graves that hurt her tiny heart the most.

However, rather than gagging or retreating from the macabre sight, Jessie draws a black bladed knife in the flash of an eye from gods knows where and freezes as she scours the surrounding environs for the sight or sound of movement or anything unusual, while also silently praying for the fallen.

Assuming the coast seems clear, the halfling will eventually nod in the affirmative to her colleagues before beginning the unenviable task of picking through the desecrated graves whispering, "I'm looking for anything to identify them, but my guess is these are the missing soldiers."  Unfortunately, she comes up empty.

Nonetheless, business was business and, after wiping her blade on a nearby leaf, Jessie uses water from her skin to clean her knife before restoring it to a hidden ankle holster.  Next, the lass uses water to clean herself up from the gory task that necessity and good will toward the villagers and their families dictated.  

Jessie knew about tribes, clans and loyalty, and this was the same; after all family was family and she owed them her best.  With a final funerary prayer in her mind, the diminutive rogue stows her skin and says in a low voice, "Nothing left to bury now.  Best to move on to the ruins."
 

Once Rodin informs the group that the reddish stains are not blood, Jessie's curiousity is further aroused causing the tiny halfling to poke around until she finds a leaf covered with red.

Popping the leaf in her mouth, the rogue allows her tongue to decipher the clues as to the source of the stain, whether it be sweet preserves, hot peppers or even dry wine.

Of course, Jessie is interested in the sink hole as the group passes by and asks in a low tone, "It's obvious the folks we are tracking steer clear of that large sink hole over yonder."

"What caused it to form," the tiny halfling burglar asks her companions in the same low voice?  "Underground dungeon works, collapsed tunnel, failed well and cistern, or simple event of nature?"
_________________________________________________________________________________

However, the halfling's curiosity peeks when the group follows the tracks to a dead-end atop a hillside overlooking the nearby ruins.   Given the debris littering the hillside, which of course Jessie is forced by habit to poke through, it's clear that large groups of somebody's moved through this way even to a non-tracker.

Unable to resist, the halfling rogue carefully pokes about the scene, looking beyond the ended tracks, circling around, walking forward in the track marks to where they end, throwing stones ahead, using smoke drifting through the air to the place the tracks were lost from different angles, all in an attempt to decipher the clues at hand.

"They came through here alright and by the looks of it this place has been used by a large group more than once in the past," Jessie says.  "Well, I can't track and I don't have any magic solutions for this conundrum, but I can at least know if they use this hillside again in the near future," she adds with a smile.

Gathering five small yet stout sticks, the diminutive rogue takes a spool of fine thread out of her pack and plants the sticks upright in the ground which allows her to string the nearly invisible thread across the path of tracks about ankle high, which blends in quite well with nature.

"There, that will tell us is this hillside is used as a highway again in the near future," Jessie says in the same low tone with a satisfied grin.  Once the others have had time to look around and do their 'magiks,' the tiny cutpurse will indicate her readiness to explore vulture roost over yonder.
__________________________________________________________________________________

As the group approached the Roost, Jessie knew in her heart what the circling buzzards meant and her nose confirmed these suspicions long before any of the dead bodies were found.  However, it was the shocking state of the disturbed make-shift graves that hurt her tiny heart.

Rather than gagging or retreating from the macabre sight, Jessie draws a black bladed knife from gods knows where and freezes as she she scours the surrounding environs for the sight or sound of movement or anything unusual as she silently prays for the fallen.

Assuming the coast seems clear, the halfling will silently nod in the affirmative to her colleagues before beginning the unenviable task of picking through the desecrated graves whispering, "I'm looking for anything to identify them, but my guess is these are the missing soldiers."  Unfortunately, she comes up empty.

After wiping her blade on a nearby leaf, Jessie uses water from her skin to clean her knife before restoring it to a hidden ankle holster and then cleaning up herself from the gory task that necessity and good will toward the villagers and their families dictated.  

Jessie knew about tribes, clans and loyalty, and this was the same; after all family was family and she owed them her best.  With a final funerary prayer in her mind, the diminutive rogue says in a low voice, "Nothing left to bury now.  Best to move on to the ruins."