Seeing that the group is embarking on their journey, the mice in the Cellar cease their mourning so as to see their heroes off in high spirits. A chorus of thanks, goodbyes and farewells are offered, and the bags of supplies which had been packed the previous night are handed over.<br/><br/><span style="color: blue"><span style="text-decoration: underline">Supplies:</span><br/>*cold weather gear (+5 to fort saves vs. cold weather)<br/>*six meals' worth of bread and bear sausages<br/>*four tents that each sleep one medium creature comfortably (two if they squeeze)<br/>*a map of the forest north of Boryg<br/>*two lanterns and enough oil for ten hours of light between them</span><br/><br/><br/>Vern (a stout, black-furred male mousefolk who had been second in command under Cecil) approaches the party with a small letter sealed with brown wax. There is nothing on the front but a mousefolk pawprint.<br/><br/>"Underneith Jejuna is the territory of a rat clan that call themselves the Scree. They're a crude bunch of gangsters--nothing like us--and they don't take well to strangers. But given the state of things above ground in their city, they might prove useful allies." He holds out the envelope. "Cecil wrote this last night, and was planning on giving it to you this morning..." Vern pauses to steady his emotions. "I don't know what he wrote exactly, but he was good friends with their leader. His word should be enough to get them to trust you."