[PF] Children of the Snow IC II

[RandomWombat]

Link to the first IC thread. (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?371210-Children-of-the-Snow-PF-IC)

Chief Kilgore looks past Yarl to the doors he came through, though they hide Edwina from view beyond them. He nods slowly, "I would ask that she turn over her weapons. So long as she does not attack anyone, she can help us prove her innocence."

[Prehysterical]

Yarl sighs wearily. "I make no promises, but I will try. After what has happened, I doubt she will wish to be unarmed here."

The shieldthane moves through the doors and heads down the steps.

[RandomWombat]

Yarl leaves the Clan Hall, with the three members of the greatly diminished Clan Ring leaving behind him. Both Murdock and Edwina note the presence, and Yarl feels the tension in the air escalate immediately. Murdock's eyes meet with Kilgore's, and the chief comes to a stop on the stairs. For a moment it seems like one of them is going to say something, but the piercing glare between them must have meant more than words could say. Instead, Kilgore turns his head to face Edwina.

"Yarl has explained the situation to me, and I am willing to hear your side of this story. Turn over your weapons and we will go speak with your men," with a nod, he directs one of the guards over to Huma. The guard waits expectantly at Edwina, who in turn looks to Yarl for confirmation that this is safe.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl nods steadily in response to her unspoken query. You can trust me.

[RandomWombat]

Reluctantly, Edwina takes the sheathed longsword from her belt and hands it to the guard. Unslinging her crossbow from her back, she does the same with that. They allow her to keep her shield. While this is happening, the other guard approaches Yarl and returns the weapons he turned over earlier.

"You two may keep your weapons, so long as they stay sheathed," Kilgore looks at Yarl, then narrows his eyes at Murdock as he adds the second part of his statement. Murdock shrugs noncommittally. Kilgore turns and walks westwards towards the mines.

Along the way through the tula, Yarl hears some musical whistling. When he looks over he sees the short, bald man he'd escorted from the Volsagi tula, turning a corner onto a different street. The man is tapping his walking stick to the beat of his own whistling.

[Prehysterical]

As they walk, Yarl asks Kilgore, "That little bald man... Who is he? He wasn't here last time."

[RandomWombat]

Kilgore stops and follows Yarl's gaze, but the bald man is already gone. The chief looks back at Yarl, "I know three bald men living here, but none of them are little. He may be a visitor. Why do you ask?"

[Prehysterical]

Yarl begins walking with purpose after the old man. "After our conversation last time, I escorted a man here from Volsagi territory. Claimed to be visiting his sister, but came alone and unarmed.

Kilgore, I don't believe in coincidences."

Yarl rounds the corner and yells after the man. "Wait! Stop!"

[RandomWombat]

Looking to his fellow Clan Ring members, Kilgore nods them towards cover and follows Yarl, hand warily on a sap at his belt as he follows behind. Murdock slips away, his direction of movement suggesting he plans to flank their quarry. Edwina is still unarmed, but she guides Huma to follow Yarl from a distance, still on the bison's back.

Yarl calls out and the short, stocky man turns to look at the noise. He smiles when he sees Yarl, and tilts his head inquisitively, "My friend from the road! You sound stern, is something amiss?"

[Prehysterical]

Marching up to the old man, Yarl demands, "I want you to take me to where your sister lives. Right now."

[RandomWombat]

Quirking an eyebrow, the bald man steps back from Yarl's now-threatening presence. "I don't understand. Has she done something to get her in trouble with the law?" he asks, looking past Yarl to where Kilgore is approaching as well. As they speak, Murdock steps out from behind another home behind the bald man and positions himself in the way of any escape.

[Prehysterical]

"I'm not entirely convinced that she exists. There is a crisis enveloping the tula and it started after you arrived. So, I want to see if I stayed up all night on a liar's word."

[RandomWombat]

"Well then I'd be glad to assuage any suspicions, I was just on my way back to my sister's house," putting on a smile again, but visibly unnerved by the aggressive interrogation, he turns to find Murdock behind him, "Ah! Dear sweet mercy you startled me."

"I'll be staying on this side of you, if that's not a problem," Murdock states gruffly. Huma, with Edwina mounted atop him, comes up beside Yarl. Kilgore is still behind them and now flanked by the two other Clan Ring members, who came over when a fight didn't immediately break out.

"If you really must," the bald man sighs and leads on, Murdock staying ahead of him so he can't run off, though his pace is slower than the rest of them anyways. He holds up a hand as the group comes before one of the homes closer to the center of the tula, and he walks towards the door.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl stands back, waiting to see what happens before making any moves.

[RandomWombat]

Reaching the door, the bald man looks back at everyone gathered on the road watching him, then extends a hand to knock on the door. There are a few moments before a woman answers the door. She stands a few inches shorter than the man, with long black hair wrangled up into a bun to keep it out of the way. She's wearing loose-fitting pants and a shirt, bound with sashes, allowing comfort and freedom of movement without letting the wind in. Though she wears sandals, she also wears thick wool socks to keep her feet warm. Narrow, earthy-colored eyes glare at the man at the door and then glance past to look at everyone gathered outside. She leans forward and hisses something in a low voice.

"Can't a... man come see his one and only baby sister?" the bald man asks in a hurt voice so fake Yarl doesn't even need to scrutinize it. "These men - and women, pardon me," he adds, looking back at the female members of Yarl's current posse. He adds something in a lower voice, that Yarl can't hear.

The woman reaches behind the frame of the door, inside, and grabs a broad-headed waraxe from somewhere out of view, gripping it in both hands, but not raising it to attack. The man backs away, raising his free hand in surrender as he uses the one with his walking stick to steady himself. "Easy now..." The woman says something to him in words that Yarl can't understand, but he recognizes the word 'Antorel' as being some sort of name. Possibly the bald man's name.

"I'm not liking where this is going," Murdock mutters from beside Yarl. Now that the woman has a weapon in her hand, Kilgore has drawn his sap in preparation to apprehend anyone who makes an aggressive move. Yarl can see Murdock's had in his sleeve, where his war razor is hidden.

[Prehysterical]

In a loud voice that cuts across everything going on, Yarl asks, "So, old man... Are you finally going to explain yourself? I'm not sure I would walk alone through troll country to visit a sister who greets me like that."

[RandomWombat]

"Old? What, because I'm prematurely balding? I'm young and in my prime thank you," the man twirls around on his good foot, to answer Yarl. "I'll admit, there's been some family drama in the past, but why can't a man seek to reconcile? Right sis?" He looks over his shoulder. His alleged sister looks between the man and Yarl with a look of confusion. Yarl could swear she has no idea what either of them are saying.

"Enough nonsense, we have business to attend to. Explain yourself, man," Kilgore bellows, beginning to lose his patience.

The balding man flinches back and scratches his face. "Well golly, I already have. I'm here to visit my sister and work out some family issues, is all. It's your man there who keeps shouting accusations." He points at Yarl.

"Yarl, these people are odd, but do you have any evidence they've done anything?" Kilgore asks from behind Yarl, lowering his voice to a steadier volume.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl ignores Kilgore for the moment as his attention is caught by the woman's seeming inability to understand. Approaching her, he asks, "Do you know Clanspeak?"

[RandomWombat]

"I-" keeping her weapon pointed away from Yarl, but ready at her side, she looks thoughtful as she searches for the right words. She shakes her head after a moment, "Not good understand."

"She's a learning disability, not so good with words there, hm?" 'Antorel' speaks up a little too quickly. Yarl gets the hunch he's just making an excuse.

[Prehysterical]

So, she speaks it, but not well... Where did she come from? "Who are you? I'm Yarl, son of Baldur, son of Garm. I'm a shieldthane of Clan Himmiskan."

[RandomWombat]

"Ah," the woman mouths Yarl's words back to herself, trying to piece them together. "I do not understand. Your name? Yarl?" She has a short, sharp accent that Yarl doesn't recognize as the dialect of any clans he's met personally.

[Prehysterical]

Looking back at Kilgore, Yarl asks, "Do you know this woman, Chief? Her accent doesn't sound like any of the clans around here."

[RandomWombat]

"I do not. It may be more apt to ask her neighbors," Kilgore's voice betrays that he is getting impatient with the distraction. "Her family may have merged into our clan as the cold spread. It doesn't seem fair to accuse them of something on the level you're suggesting based only on a hunch. Perhaps we should carry on with what we were doing, and question the alleged Volsagi patrol."

"Not fair at all," the bald man agrees, looking up at Yarl with a frown and placing his free hand on his hip.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl glowers at the man before finally compromising. "Murdock, watch him while we deal with the original matter. I don't want this one 'disappearing' while we're gone.

This questioning isn't over."

[RandomWombat]

"If you say so," Murdock closes the distance with the mystery man. He puts on his best forced smile, "How about we go inside. It's awful cold out."

Antorel turns to his sister and cheerily says a few words in whatever tongue their native clan speaks, then beckons Murdock in. The woman steps aside to allow them in, frowning. She casts one more glance towards Yarl and his group, then follows the other two inside.

Without further delay, Kilgore begins walking towards the mines, followed by the Ring women. Huma obediently follows Yarl in turn, Edwina atop his back. It takes a few minutes for them to reach the entrance to the mine, around which a simple wooden structure has been built to keep the snow out. Like the central part of the tula it has been maintained, and a wooden ladder extends down into the earth. There is also a pulley system built into the wooden structure, allowing the Golangi to pull up heavier loads of ore without lugging them up the ladder.

"These are the mines, we mainly dig up iron here," Kilgore explains. He gestures for Yarl to go ahead. "We will send the girl down after you and then descend ourselves. Is your bison patient enough to wait out here or will we leave someone to watch him?"

[Prehysterical]

Hopefully, the woman's standoffish attitude toward the man will be enough to keep him from making any moves against Murdock. I'll be back as soon as I can.

When they finally reach the mines and Kilgore asks his question, Yarl approaches Huma and tells him. "Stay. Staaay. Good boy." He pats him affectionately on the snout.

As Yarl approaches the ladder, a thought occurs to him. "Chief, wouldn't it be better if you went down first? If the miners see a complete stranger in their midst without warning, there might be another incident."

[RandomWombat]

"I would prefer to make sure your friend does not try anything. Ellise, if you could go first?" Kilgore suggests. The younger, blond woman seems to be who he's addressing.

"Right. I'll see you all below," the woman answers in a pleasant voice, descending the ladder. Yarl sees the glow of torchlight below as she moves away from the ladder and into a corridor.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl follows the woman as soon as she ducks out of sight into the corridor. He puts away his shield to climb down the ladder more easily before reequipping it at the bottom.

[RandomWombat]

Down below the earth, the awful chill that always hangs in the air here is even worse. Yarl can see icicles on the walls and ceiling, and on the wooden supports. Still, the mine has been meticulously maintained. The stone corridor splits ahead, where this Ellise woman is waiting. Everyone else descends the ladder behind him, and she turns to lead them down the left path. Along the way they come upon a wooden wall set into the corridor, with a door that can be barred with four metal bars from this side. A single guard is on watch here, with a long wash along his arm that he fails to notice. Ellise opens up the door and leads the group through. Here is another short hallway, with stone cells dug into either side, with metal bars from floor to ceiling and iron doors. There are six prison cells in total. The very first cell contains three bloodied Volsagi militia patrolmen. Another separate cell contains a female militia fighter. A second guard is on watch inside of the prison hallway, but is not visibly injured.

[Prehysterical]

Turning to Edwina, Yarl asks, "Edwina, these are your fighters, right?"

[RandomWombat]

"Yes, these are the survivors," she answers. The sound of her name and voice causes the people in the cells to look up, or at least those who weren't already looking up.

"Captain! They got you too?" one of the men asks in despair. Another runs a hand across his face, struggling to stay composed.

"No. This is Yarl, he's here to help resolve things," Edwina states, her voice not as certain as she's trying to sound.

Chief Kilgore crosses his arms. "These men and women attacked our gate without provocation or warning. You, Yarl, claim that there is foul magic at play here."

"Damn right you crazy sonuvabitch, that thing at the gate was a demon or something!" the woman alone in a separate cell shouts.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl approaches the cell containing the woman. "Calm down, please. Your captain's life may depend on it.

Now... The man at the gate... What was wrong with him? Did you see his entrails?" Deciding to test a theory, Yarl points to the first guard.

"That man... Do you see the gash on his arm?"
[roll0]

[RandomWombat]

The woman swallows what she was about to shout, looking Yarl in the eye. "Yes. That thing... his guts were spitting out, just... hanging there!" Calming her breaths, her eyes follow Yarl's finger. "The one who brought us down here? Yeah, I cut him along the arm. It didn't even slow him down."

Iida shakes her head. "'Tis only a scratch. It's already healing from what I can see."

"Bull," one of the men in the other cell counters. Despite his harsh language, his tone is more measured than his female comrade. "I can see the blood pooling from under the door. He's still leaking like a sieve." He points, and Yarl does indeed see the blood puddle seeping in under the door.

[Prehysterical]

It's time to test another theory. Yarl moves over to the door and smears a finger in the blood pooling. He stands before Chief Kilgore and raises the finger for inspection, keeping it a respectful distance from his face. "Do you see the blood, Chief?"

[RandomWombat]

Sighing, Kilgore squints at Yarl's finger. His eyebrows twitch and he frowns, lifting a hand to the side of his head as though experiencing a twinge of pain or disorientation. "Blood? There is - something there. I just can't seem to think of what it is. Mrg, what foul enchantment has been placed upon us?!" He steps back and looks down at the floor where the blood puddle is. He opens his eyes wide and holds a hand to his throat as though realizing something.

"I'm feeling the same thing, my Chief," Iida agrees, looking away from the blood-smeared finger.

"I'm afraid I don't see it," Ellise comments.

"No," the Golangi chief is pale from whatever revelation he's had.

"What is it?" Ellise asks. Kilgore reaches over and holds a hand in front of her face. She frowns and backs away, while he shakes his head.

"We're not breathing. Yarl, prisoners, are you breathing?" Should he take a moment to think, Yarl has indeed been breathing, but looking back, he can't remember seeing any of the Golangi taking that automatic action.

"Of course I'm breathing," Edwina answers, taking in a deep breath through the nose to illustrate her point.

One of the prisoners makes a funny face. "I don't know what you mean. We're all breathing fine."

[Prehysterical]

The evidence, now pointed out, strikes Yarl like a smith's hammer. "By Humakt's sword... Kilgore... I think the tula has been cursed with undeath. But if that's the case, then why can't you see your injuries?"

[RandomWombat]

Looking at his arm as though it were alien to him, Kilgore reaches out and touches the wound there. He stumbles a little uneasy on his feet, as the room is silent.

"Some sort of illusion? You must have presented enough proof... that I could break its hold on my own. Or at least try." Ellise reaches out to touch the same wound as though in a daze, and then recoils. She gasps and staggers as whatever hold on her thoughts finally breaks as well.

"Magic like this is beyond anything I could have imagined. This is the sort of curse legends speak of - only I don't recall any legends about this," the elder advisor laments.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl's tone becomes more urgent. "The dream that brought me here, it showed me a sword that pierced a corpse. The sword had wings of fire and shadow seeped out from it. Does that sound like anything you've ever seen or heard?"

[RandomWombat]

"I'm afraid not, no," shaking her head, Iida looks to the stunned people in the cells.

"You're all undead? This place is cursed! Let us go, please!" the woman in the second cell demands.

"What if we're all going to change if we stay here?!" one of the men asks in a panic.

Chief Kilgore turns to Yarl and Edwina, "I understand that they attacked because of what they saw... but if I release these people they will go to the Volsagi and tell them we are all monsters. We must find a way to break this curse first."

"What about the people whose bodies are too damaged to survive once it is lifted, like the guard they saw?"

"I... I do not know what we can do to help them. I'm sorry I have no answers," the chief shakes his head solemnly.

"If helping break this curse will have my patrol released, I will help," Edwina offers quietly, more to Yarl than to Kilgore.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl nods in response to her offer. To Kilgore, he says, "That mystery man? He came out of Volsagi's tula. If you don't want word to get back to Conor, then you must prevent him from leaving. Honestly, it would just be better if we went and paid him another visit. He's hiding something, and that something may be the clue that we need."

[RandomWombat]

"The man has not committed any crime I can prove, but if it makes you feel better I will assign guards to keep an eye on him," the chief answers, holding a hand self-consciously over the place where his own healing magic caused the skin to burn and peel.

"If we can, we ought to get this man and his 'sister' to consent to being tested. For the curse. If they refuse, it would give more weight to Yarl's suspicions."

"Yarl, I will entrust this to you. Iida, please, go with him and help however you can. Ellise and I will gather our people and try to keep them from panicking once they learn of what has befallen us."

"May I have my weapons back, so I can help if the bald man tries to attack us?" asks Edwina apprehensively. "I give you my word I won't try anything."

"Your word is not good enough for me to put a sword in your hand-" Kilgore holds up a hand to shush the woman as she begins to speak, "But I will not leave you helpless in the face of this threat. Here." He holds out his sap for her to take, and she accepts the nonlethal weapon. "It is the best compromise I'm willing to give." The militiawoman nods quietly.

Edwina looks to her patrol in their cells, "Don't worry. I'll make sure you all get home safe."

[Prehysterical]

"I will find out what I can. In the meantime, I suggest keeping this news quiet. The last thing that we need right now is for the tula to go up in flames.

Let's go, Edwina." With Iida and Edwina in tow, Yarl makes his way back up the ladder and to the bald man's house.

[RandomWombat]

"All the same, I will need to be ready to address this if anyone else breaks through the illusion. And Ellise is my ambassador, a capable diplomat. We will maintain order should people succumb to fear."

Splitting off from Kilgore and Ellise, Yarl leads his trio back up to Huma and towards the house from before. The door is unlocked, and they are able to let themselves in.

Inside, Antorel and his sister are at a table in the living area, drinking from a fancy tea set. Murdock is leaning against the wall near the door with his arms crossed, watching them. The entire room is under an awkward silence. Along with the table and chairs there is a rack near the door where the axe was taken from; in addition to the axe, there is a bow hung up there, with a quiver of arrows hanging by the strap from the same shelf. At the back of the room is a pantry and ice box, and a door. Against the west wall is a fire pit with a chimney above it for the smoke to escape through. A pot above the fire must contain the rest of the tea.

"Ey," Murdock greets Yarl and company as they arrive. The siblings at the table look up and the woman sets down her tea. The waraxe from before is lying across her lap, but she hasn't reached for it yet.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl glowers at the man. "I'm only going to say this once.

Something is wrong in this tula and Chief Kilgore sees that now. He expects the two of you to cooperate with me and tell me what you're really doing here.

The life of every member of the Golangi depends on us ending this curse that hangs over the tula. My patience is very limited.

Now, will actually tell me the truth, or will you force me to take extreme measures?"
[roll0]

[RandomWombat]

"Oh my, you're scaring the poor girl," Antorel says melodramatically. The woman beside him doesn't look frightened at all, nor does it look like she's clued in on what's going on. Maybe she's just... challenged? "Listen, I know you think we're up to something, but I swear, we're not. What's this about a curse?"

Yarl's assessment: This man is a terrible liar.

[Prehysterical]

"Oh, you don't know," Yarl asks sarcastically. He leans on the table.

"It seems that all of the native Golangi here are afflicted by a curse of undeath. They don't know that they're dead. I had to present evidence to him that such was the case before he could disbelieve the illusion. Spilled intestines, gashes along the arms, pools of blood... Even healing magic makes their flesh bubble and singe. It was only when the chieftain realized that he didn't breathe that he finally acknowledged it.

This sickness threatens the survival, the immortal souls, of everyone that lives here. And you arrived in the tula right before this all happened. I am a worshiper of Humakt, who despises the undead and seeks to lay their souls to rest. If you want me to stop regarding you as a potential suspect for this curse, you will tell me what you are doing here. Even I can tell that you are an atrocious liar."
[roll0]

[RandomWombat]

Antorel laughs lightly, even with Yarl in his face. Sensing the tension, the woman places a hand on her axe. Murdock gets up from leaning against the wall and readies his razor, prompting her to stand in turn and hold it at ready. Murdock growls at Antorel, "Answer the man's question."

"Would you like some tea?" Antorel offers. "Let's be civil about this. It's my sister's, not mine, if it helps put you at ease. She's far too honorable to use poison. Either way, please, take a seat and listen a while." He gestures widely at Yarl and Murdock, and his sister. He adds something in that unknown language and she slowly returns to her seat.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl knocks back the tea in one gulp, uncaring of how scalding it might be. "I don't have time to be civil, especially for someone who takes the situation so lightly. Talk." The man is not going to sit down.

[RandomWombat]

Murdock leans back against the wall where he was, but seems tense. He keeps his weapon casually in his hand, but ready to lunge forward. With a shrug, Antorel speaks, "It's not a curse." The short, bald man smiles calmly and sits back in his seat. His eyes flicker over to the tea pot, lightly steaming, then back at Yarl. "It's... in... the well water." His mouth curls into a grin.

"Ss****, Yarl! You just-" Murdock pushes off of the wall and steps forward. He growls, "I knew not to drink any of that ****. Why'd you go and let him bait you?"

[Prehysterical]

Without moving from his position, or breaking eye contact, Yarl holds up a hand to forestall Murdock. The shieldthane's eyes bore into the man before him. "Go on..."

[RandomWombat]

"A bit of an experiment," Antorel explains, "This is my latest attempt." He reaches into his cloak and takes out a glass vial of grey powder. His sister's eyes get wide and she looks at Yarl, then back at her brother. Again he says something to her in their shared language. "There is a counter-agent of course, I'd be a fool otherwise. Only enough right now for me and sister dearest, in case of exposure." Looking Yarl in the eye, he tucks the powder back in his cloak. The way he's talking it sounds like he's done 'experiments' like this before.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl's brow lowers. "And now that you've confessed, there are two ways that this can go:

One is that we go talk to the chief, you tell him everything, and you cure everyone in the tula.

Number two... you die in this room. I don't deny that your 'sister' seems to be a capable warrior, but Murdock over there," he nods toward the bandit. "is Golangi. And I can't imagine that he is very pleased about what you've done to this kinsmen. And the lives of Edwina's men depend on us curing this affliction.

Not good odds in your favor."

[RandomWombat]

For his part, Murdock is already creeping around the edge of the room. His posture reminds Yarl of a wolf, or even one of those feathered lizards from the south moving to flank prey. His expression is much more evocative of a snarling wolf. The woman stands up and distances herself from the table, moving to the opposite side from Murdock, not wanting him behind her. The waraxe is in her hand, but she doesn't move to attack.

"You're right of course," the man makes a sagely nod as he admits it. "There are two ways this can go. You can try to kill me. Even if you succeed, that leaves you with two doses of the cure and zero ways to make more. I'm not done observing here yet, so there's no telling what side-effects there may be. The last batch of test subjects suffered chronic mental degradation and eventually went feral. A shame, they were wonderful physical specimens." Standing, Antorel tries to look Yarl in the eye, but is far too short.

"Option two is, you let me finish my work in peace, tell the chief my sister and I are clear. When I'm done I'll make enough counter-agent to do the same thing to the well water I did with my powder, everyone's cured, I further my research, maybe we even save the world in the process. I can even help you patch up the poor saps whose bodies can't handle going back to being 'alive'. Whaddaya say, partners?" holding out his free hand to offer a handshake, Antorel grins that same smug grin from before.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl sets the head of his hammer on the table, uncaring if the man is worthy enough to see it. "You have lied to me at every turn. I helped you out of concern for your well-being, inconveniencing myself and others in the process, so that you can do this?

I was truly a fool to take at your word before, so you expect me to do so now?!" Yarl's voice raises in outrage. "I have seen my home and family burned to cinders for the ambition of men like you! May Orlanth bar me from his halls if I dare endorse this blasphemy!"

Turning, he regards Kilgore's adviser. "Get Kilgore here now. He deserves to know what has befallen his people. I will not be the voice that decides the fate of the Golangi. That is his decision.

In the meantime, poor yourself some tea, necromancer. We shall wait here until they get back."

[RandomWombat]

Iida had been agape in horror and shock, but is shook from her stupor as Yarl addresses her and speaks the chief's name. "Right, I'll - look out!" Iida's eyes go wide and she weaves her fingers together, gesturing upwards. She quickly chants, "Cheangal ris, freumhan na talmhainn!"

Turning, Yarl sees the wooden floor in a semicircle across the other half of the room burst upwards, growing shoots and branches from the boards to wrap around Antorel even as he begins to perform arcane gestures for his own spell. He's caught on the very edge of the circle, leaving an avenue for Murdock, who growls and charges the smaller man. Ducking aside, Antorel hisses when the razor leaves a small cut on his cheek. "Ouch, watch where you're swinging that thing!" He looks to his sister and shouts something incomprehensible, to which she looks uncertain.

Grunting, Antorel rips his arms away from the growths sticking out of the floor. He holds up a hand and lets out a wheezing whisper. Even as Murdock tries to deliver another cut, he is cut off as he needs to stop and gasp for air. A corona of blackness surrounds Antorel's body, and Murdock nearly staggers from whatever it's doing to him, but regains his balance and firmly shuts his mouth. The dark aura doesn't vanish either, and persists.

I rolled this myself, as Antorel reacts poorly to the suggestion of being turned in.

Iida - 23
Murdock - 16
Sister - 15
Antorel - 10
Yarl - 8

Iida casts Entangle, catching Antorel on the edge of the effect and Entangling him.
Murdock scratches Antorel for 5 damage.

The sister is uncertain what to do and delays her action.

Antorel breaks free of the entanglement and casts an unknown spell. Murdock fails his AoO against the casting attempt, then takes 3 damage from the spell. Murdock succeeds his save against an unknown effect.
Antorel succeeds his end-of-turn save not to be entangled again by the tree shoots, since he didn't leave the effect area.

It is now Yarl's turn. Here is a basic map (http://s32.postimg.org/8b2daj679/housebattle.png). The green line is the entanglement zone; if Yarl enters it, the DC against Iida's entangle is 13.

Yarl drank some messed up tea, yo, and it's starting to take effect. Rolled a hidden Fortitude save for him when he drank the tea and he failed. This is curable, so you don't need to alter your main sheet, you can use the same screen that edits sheet name and privacy settings to create an exact clone of his current sheet and alter that one, then link it to me.

Effects of Antorel's powder:
Yarl gains two Hit Dice of Undead (with the benefits/effects listed under the monster type), but is not mindless, nor does his alignment change. He does gain some (temporary if cured) skill points from this, and a (temporary if cured) new feat from hitting 7 HD. Should he be cured, he does not have this feat locked-in for future use and can learn a different one when he reaches level 7 for real.
Yarl's hit points will change. The current difference (damage) between his max and current health remains the same.
Yarl loses his Con score, with Cha taking its place for hit points and saves, etc. He's immune to probably 80% of the Fortitude-save-needing effects now, however.
Yarl gains +3 natural armor, DR 5/magic and slashing, and immunity to cold.
Yarl gains +4 Str, +2 Dex, and +1 Cha.
Yarl gains Improved Initiative as a (temporary if cured) bonus feat.
Yarl has Channel Resistance +4.
Yarl gains a natural slam attack that deals 1d6 damage. Targets hit must make a Fortitude save at DC 10 + 1/2 hit dice + Cha mod, or be Paralyzed for 1 round.

Yarl is already aware of the enchantment effect of this formula, which is trying to alter his perspective. As such he can attempt a Will Save at DC 20. If he fails, he is completely unaware of any damage he sustains, any damage fellow powder victims sustain, or their shared undead nature. He does recall everything he already knows about the situation not directly related to those three things, such as that Antorel did 'something' to the water (and him).
If failed the first time, this save may be re-attempted any time he takes damage, another person affected by the powder takes damage in his field of vision, or he is confronted with evidence of the effect. Once the mental effect is saved against successfully it is gone for good.
If failed, Yarl does not know that he does not need to eat or sleep or breathe, though he feels no ill effects from not doing so.

[Prehysterical]

As the tea starts to take effect, Yarl can feel... some part of his memory going. This strange man did something to him, but he can't remember what.

All that matters is that evil man had tried to strike him while his back was turned. This is the evil the gods intended me to fight.

Drawing forth his father's sword, Yarl feels the gods' blessing as a pair of silver wings sprout from the hilt. He moves around the table and swings at Antorel. "Orlanth, grant me lightning!"
Yarl moves up to mirror Murdock and stay out of the entanglement. He draws his weapon as part of his move action.
A: [roll0]
D: [roll1]
C: [roll2]
CD: [roll3]

Using Blessed Pinions
Extra sacred damage: [roll4]
Good-aligned, strikes incorporeal or possessing creatures, yadda yadda.

[RandomWombat]

Lunging around the table and knocking over a chair, Yarl takes a swipe at the bald man. The sword passes, leaving a shallow cut in his right arm as he ducks away while trying to fend of Murdock at the same time. The wound glows brightly and he hisses through his teeth as the silver light sears through his body for a few seconds. "What was that?" Yarl feels an intense pull from the aura around the man, the air inside Yarl's body being forcible torn out. Though it leaves physical damage, he feels no pain, nor does his breath catch in his throat. Curious. Why would that be?

Antorel shields his eyes as Iida raises a hand and fires a small burst of light at him in the hopes of distracting him. Capitalizing on it, Murdock delivers a cut to Antorel's left arm mirroring Yarl's, then slugs the man in the rib with his free hand.

The nameless woman, Antorel's sister, dashes to the weapon rack by the door, retrieving her bow. She still needs a moment to grab her quiver as well, and it's not clear what she intends to do. As for Antorel himself, he carefully guards himself from attack as he performs a few more hand gestures, then abruptly reaches out to grab Murdock's arm. Murdock flinches away as red energy flows out of his arm and forms a barrier around Antorel's body. When it's done, Murdock looks pale and perhaps thinner than before, though he's still standing with a grimace of rage.

Yarl cuts Antorel for 17 damage.
Iida casts a spell, but Antorel saves against it.
Murdock cuts Antorel for 7 damage and slugs him for 2.

The sister grabs her longbow.

Antorel resists the Entangle effect. His spell deals 9 damage to Yarl and Murdock. Yarl may make a DC 18 Reflex save to halve that damage to 4.
A secondary effect of the spell is that Yarl cannot speak while adjacent to Antorel.
Antorel barely succeeds at casts defensively, absorbing something from Murdock and dealing 18 damage.

It is Yarl's turn. Here is a map (http://s33.postimg.org/n1t275aun/housebattle.png).

[Prehysterical]

The damage that Yarl suffers goes unnoticed by the man. Seeing that his sword only makes a shallow cut despite being a decisive blow, Yarl tries to bash the man in the head with his fist clenched around the sword's hilt.
Slam Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Crit: [roll2]
CD: [roll3]
DC 13 Fort save or paralyzed for one round.

[RandomWombat]

Yarl's fist, clenched around the hilt, slams Antorel in the face. Despite the solid hit, Yarl feels the force of the blow dispersed by the protective field, apparently made from Murdock's scavenged life force. Another desperate flash of light from Iida is flung the necromancer's way, and he remains unfazed despite the glare landing directly on his eyes. When it's clear her spells are failing her, she moves closer. As Antorel struggles and successfully breaks free of the grappling branches again, Murdock lunges at him. Ducking aside the tired, air-starved man's clumsy swings, he raises his hand for a moment only to have an arrow graze his face, the majority of the strike deflected by his force field. A second arrow nicks him in the shoulder; neither of them looked like they were aimed to kill, however. Antorel's sister has turned on him and is firing across the room, but still seems reluctant to use lethal force. The force was still enough to dissipate the barrier, however.

Throwing up his arms in sudden frustration and hasty gestures, Antorel explodes into a cloud of blinding light, a stark contrast from the dark corona radiating around him.

Yarl strikes Antorel for 8 damage, but he passes his save.
Iida casts her spell again, but it fails. She moves closer.
Murdock swings and a-misses with both attacks.

The sister fires twice, dealing 19 nonlethal damage, most of which is absorbed by the barrier and finishes it off.

Antorel casts a spell. Yarl, Murdock, Iida, and Antorel himself must make DC 17 Will saves or be blinded. Ironically, Murdock and Iida succeed, and Antorel blinds himself (and maybe Yarl).
Antorel's other spell remains active. Yarl and Murdock must make DC 18 Reflex saves to halve 9 damage. Murdock fails his save against that one again.

Updated Map (http://s32.postimg.org/lf1fs7oat/housebattle.png)

[Prehysterical]

Yarl realizes two things as events go on. The sister wants to help, but only if it doesn't result in the man's death. More importantly, Yarl remembers as the magic eats away at his undead flesh. His face twists into an indignant scowl and he drops his sword, this time swinging his fist fully toward the man's face.
Slam again.
A: [roll0]
D: [roll1]
C: [roll2]
CD: [roll3]
DC 13 yadda yadda

[RandomWombat]

Rendered blind by his own spell, Antorel is now covered in glowing golden dust, as is everyone else present. For the rest of them it is annoying, but not blinding. Yarl's fist finds its mark, colliding with the mage's face, and for a moment he twitches before fighting off whatever came over him briefly.

With his body under severe damage and his lungs screaming for air, Murdock backs away from the fight and gasps for a breath. Iida waits for him to back away, then takes his place. She draws a dagger from her hip as she moves and swipes it at their opponent, then swiftly kicks him in the shin. Unable to see, Antorel isn't even able to defend himself. This time his limbs lock up and he clenches his jaw, growling ineffectually at them.

The sister draws two more arrows and readies them, but watches to see if Yarl and Iida will try to kill the man while he is defenseless. Blinking away the dust, the man can see again, locking eyes with Yarl, but he cannot do anything.

Yarl smacks Antorel for 11 damage, but he passes his save again, barely.
Murdock backs off.
Iida slashes with her dagger for 5 damage. She follows up with her Slam attack as a secondary attack, dealing 3 damage. He fails his save.

The sister is delaying her action.

Antorel is paralyzed and helpless this round. He succeeds his save against blindness this time. Yarl and Iida must make DC 18 Reflex saves to halve 10 damage, as the aura continues to do its work even with its caster paralyzed. Iida passes her save.

It is Yarl's turn. New map (http://s33.postimg.org/9xrg2bxqn/housebattle.png).

[Prehysterical]

Yarl becomes increasingly aware that his now-husk of a body is extremely damaged, and the sister's readiness is not lost on him.

Picking up his sword from the ground, Yarl holds the tip to the man's throat. Though he cannot speak, Yarl's face says everything that needs to be said.

Surrender and call off your magic, or it all ends here.
If Antorel makes any move other than dismissing the magic, Yarl's going to coup de grace the son of a gun.

[RandomWombat]

The dark corona of magic fades from around Antorel as he mentally dismisses the spell, though his body is still locked in place for the moment, as Iida's branches tangle around his limbs.

[Prehysterical]

Sword still in hand, Yarl can finally make himself heard. "Murdock, get the chief. Now. I'll stay here and keep an eye on him. Quick as you can."

[RandomWombat]

Murdock coughs, backing away towards the door, looking cautiously between Antorel and his sister. He nods rather than burden his aching lungs by speaking, and turns to leave. On the other side of Antorel, Iida also keeps an eye on the man for any sudden movements. He opens his mouth to speak and she holds up a finger to stop him. Drawing a dagger, she holds it to his chest. "Not a hint of an incantation, and no sudden movements."

"Getting in my way is a mistake," the man says. He adds something foreign to his sister, who stares him down with bow drawn.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl stares right back at the man, not intimidated in the slightest. "No. It is you who made a mistake by using Clansmen as your playthings.

If you're as smart as you fancy yourself, you'll turn everyone back. Gods have mercy on you if the townsfolk learn of this and you refuse to reverse it, because I won't."

[RandomWombat]

The man looks horrified, "Turn everyone back? When I'm on the cusp of success! Do you not feel how strong you've become?"

[Prehysterical]

Yarl sounds like he is one step away from being frantic. "I didn't ask for this! I am a servant of Humakt and you turned me into an undead! The whole town is undead and they don't even realize it! If the other clans find out about this, they will kill every man, woman, and child within these walls! This isn't about us; it's about your own vain ambition.

...Why? It's obvious that you aren't even from around here. So why do this to us?"

[RandomWombat]

"For an army, barbarian. An army that can march into the north without fear," Antorel answers, a growl in his voice. "Your primitive beliefs on the undead are not a concern." His expression twists into a grimace, "That is what the Jorlaskan were founded to do. Solve this infernal winter."

[Prehysterical]

Now Yarl is bewildered. "You mean to save the hand by slitting the throat? If everyone is dead, what is the point?

And how do you mean to 'solve' the winter with a forest of blades? Are you going to stab Winter itself?"

[RandomWombat]

Antorel laughs sardonically to himself. "It's funny watching you scramble. There's a reason I'm experimenting here, perfecting a process that can be undone afterwards. And this winter of yours' has a source, one that can be stopped under the right circumstances. If idiots like you would stop getting in my way for trifles like this."

"Trifles? These are peoples' lives you're talking about!" Iida exclaims, pressing the knife closer to Antorel's chest.

"Did I give you the impression I was confused, or do you just like pointing out the obvious?"

[Prehysterical]

Enraged, Yarl drops his sword and grabs the man's face in his cold, dead hand. "What makes you think that your life is worth more than ours? You clearly don't care for us, so why shouldn't I just crush your skull?

What makes you 'better'? Did you, in your cleverness, ever think of actually talking to us? Or do you fancy yourself as a god?"

[RandomWombat]

"Talk to you? 'Oh yes hello, I'm your friendly neighborhood wizard. Can I have some human test subjects for my necromantic experiments?' That would go over so much better," even in the face of imminent death, the bald man is unfailingly cocky. "Crush my skull if you must. There are still only two doses of the cure. How do you propose to change the town back without me?" The word 'town' is unfamiliar to Yarl. A word for tula in the dialect of these peoples' Clan, perhaps?

[Prehysterical]

"Talk to you? 'Oh yes hello, I'm your friendly neighborhood wizard. Can I have some human test subjects for my necromantic experiments?' That would go over so much better," even in the face of imminent death, the bald man is unfailingly cocky. "Crush my skull if you must. There are still only two doses of the cure. How do you propose to change the town back without me?" The word 'town' is unfamiliar to Yarl. A word for tula in the dialect of these peoples' Clan, perhaps?
Not letting go, Yarl presses his point. "You have not answered my question. What makes you better?"

[RandomWombat]

"I don't care about 'better' or 'honor' or any of your nonsense," all at once the cocky attitude shifts into an irritated snarl. Antorel breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth, calming himself. "I do what I do, there's no point making justifications and excuses."

[Prehysterical]

"Then if this work is so important, why won't you tell me what it is in the north that spreads the cold so?" Yarl stops for a moment in consideration.

"This ice... Does it have something to do with undeath? Like making wights?"

[RandomWombat]

"It's a complicated affair, but the cold is not what you need to be afraid of. It's what lies beyond; what the cold keeps contained," the shorter man answers in a hiss. "It's a disease. The cold slows the afflicted, keeps them docile, if that's even the right word. I'm trying to make a force capable of eradicating this infection before it spreads. The wights? One must have got loose. They were another experiment, part of developing my powder, taking aspects of different types of undead to make a stable soldier that does not lose their mind."

"What madness does this man speak of?" Iida looks to Yarl, "He wants to fight a disease with soldiers?"

"You haven't seen this disease, none of you have. It will be the end of us, of everything. I don't know about all of you, but I'd rather the end of all life not come about."

[Prehysterical]

With a dead hand still covering the man's face, Yarl leans in and demands, "What is this plague that is so foul that you raise the dead to fight it? Why can your priests not fight it?"

[RandomWombat]

"What if I showed you?" Antorel asks, smirking beneath Yarl's hand. "Personally, I think it's a fungus-based lifeform of some kind. It's fascinating and terrifying to witness. Once I drink some of the water, I'll be just as immune as you are."

[Prehysterical]

Yarl hesitates for a moment. "...And how do you propose to show me?"

[RandomWombat]

"How else? We go north, past the frozen barrier. Aren't you curious?"

[Prehysterical]

"Where you can conveniently slip away or arrange for something else to happen," Yarl replies in a deadpan manner. "And I wasn't curious about being undead, but you didn't ask me about that.

Now, we are going to be quiet until the chieftain gets here."

[RandomWombat]

"If you insist," Antorel rolls his eyes.

It's a few more minutes of the awkward standoff before the sound of footsteps approaches from outside. The vines and branches summoned by Iida start to recede into the wooden structure. Chief Kilgore throws open the door and stomps immediately towards Antorel. Iida moves out of the way, while Antorel's sister now trains her bow on Kilgore. The chief stops and looks at her, "Lower your weapon. Do not have the audacity to point it at me again." The woman is unresponsive, and seemingly doesn't even understand what he's saying.

Behind Kilgore, two Golangi weaponthanes and Murdock follow inside, the latter closing the door behind him.

"My sister doesn't speak your language. Let me talk to her," Antorel states to Kilgore, whose eyes remain locked with the archer.

"Don't try anything."

Looking to the archer, Antorel says something to her. She lowers her bow towards the floor, but keeps it ready. Kilgore resumes his march, taking his place next to Yarl. "Yarl, what did you learn from this man? Murdock told me he is behind this abominable curse. Did he tell you why?"

[Prehysterical]

Torn between keeping an eye on the prisoner and facing the chief, Yarl finally relents and lets Antorel go before facing Kilgore. "He is a foreigner that has poisoned the water in your wells. Somehow, this poison has turned us into undead. He claims that this is an... experiment that he is performing to create an army to take into the north. According to him, the creeping cold is used to contain some sort of plague. He wants undead soldiers to fight the infected. Oh, and of course he didn't even think to tell us about it since we are a bunch of primitive savages."

Yarl holds up a decaying hand warningly. "Now, before you make a decision, know this: he is the only one who knows how to reverse it. If we kill him now, there will only be enough cure to relieve two people of their living death... Not nearly enough for the tula."

[RandomWombat]

While Yarl relents, Kilgore holds his weapon ready, eyes locked onto Antorel's. He patiently waits for Yarl to finish his full explanation.

Yarl's hand is in fact fine, at least for now. Whatever this poison is it hasn't caused outright decay. He does feel very numb however, as though his entire body were asleep.

"Living death isn't quite accurate. Suspended animation isn't right either. Animated suspension? The powder includes an element of Gentle Repose - it's like your bodies are frozen in time. They can be damaged, pieces can fall off, blood can spray if it comes apart from the rest, but they will never actively bleed or decompose. I could sew any broken bits back together as well."

"Where are you from foreigner, that we are ignorant savages, and you are not?" the chief asks.

"I came from below Mount Sinenen," Antorel answers with a straight face.

Lowering her dagger, Iida walks around to block the door to the next room in case Antorel makes a run for it. "You mean to say underground?"

"That's usually what 'below' means, yes. My sister and I are called Dwarves."

"I have never heard of any 'Dwarve Clan'."

"Dwarf singular, dwarves plural, dwarven if it's related to us. We prefer to keep to ourselves underground these days, so you wouldn't have heard of us."

[Prehysterical]

As Antorel's words rattle around Yarl's skull, a memory its way to the surface. Underground... Entering the conversation, Yarl asks Antorel, "Are your people the ones who made that fortress in the mountains to the south? The one that is linked to the dam that has the statues of armored fighters atop it, armed with tower shields?"

[RandomWombat]

"Oh, so you have heard of us. Yes - over three hundred years ago, we lived in those mountains. We were Ulseland, the most powerful kingdom on the continent. A kingdom being a large number of settlements united under one ruler... what your 'Conor' is trying to do," Antorel grins and holds himself proudly. It turns into a wry smirk as he brings up Conor. "But when we discovered the sickness in the north, it fell to us to keep it at bay. Now the dwarves live in the deep darkness below your land. Their machinery maintains this artificial winter to hold back extinction."

Everyone in the room staggers a little; even Antorel's sister looks a little offput, though mostly at everyone else's reactions. "You?! You're behind all of this?" Iida readies her weapon once more.

"Explain," Kilgore demands.

"Oh, not me. Me, I'm a problem solver. I'm looking for permanent solutions. Short-sighted imbeciles showed me the door, so I've had to make do with these sub-par research conditions. It's the people downstairs who decided to quarantine the north."

"So what are we doing with this freak?" Murdock asks, having moved up silently behind Yarl.

Yarl gets the feeling Antorel knows something about Conor that he isn't expanding on.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl saw Antorel's pronouncement coming... at least the part about the frozen north. However, something about the dwarf's mention of Conor didn't sit quite right with him. Yarl mutters an aside to Murdock. "Just a minute..."

In a normal voice, Yarl asks Antorel, "You're still holding things back, especially about Conor. So, before we get down to the talk of the cure, I have a proposal to make:

Ulseland still exists. I've had contact with the aelves down south, but things are not going well... and it has nothing to do with any plague.

So, if you tell me what you know about Conor and how the plague started, I'll tell you about things down south. Does that sound reasonable?"
[roll0]

[RandomWombat]

"Sure, why not. The longer we talk, that much longer I get to observe the effects of the powder," Antorel answers cheerfully.

"You're not helping your case, dwarf," Kilgore is obviously far less amused.

"How the plague started I can answer with a nice, quick three words: I don't know. It was full bore when the dwarves came across it and protective suits don't help when the infected can rip their way inside. The plague seems to require heat to incubate and the infected become more passive when exposed to intense cold. We created tools that draw all heat from the surface underground to create the eternal winter," pausing for a breath, Antorel begins to step away, only for Kilgore to grab him by the arm and hold him in place. He rolls his eyes and continues, "So that worked out for a while, and we've kept it contained. But the infected further north beyond the winter have found their way underground and we're fighting a losing war down there, too. They are absolutely relentless. That's why the winter has been creeping south: our lines are being pushed back. Even our golems - lifeless constructs of stone and clay among other things - cannot hold back the tide on their own. We need a better way to fight them without fear of infection. My family's reputation down there has not helped my efforts."

"Your winning personality didn't help?" Murdock snarks. Antorel snorts in response.

"Somehow not at all! Now about your Conor, he's not acting of his own will. I checked him with a Detect Charm spell at one of his speeches, he's being magically influenced by someone else. If I were you I'd start with the Jorlaskan, seeing as he seems to have strong ties to them, hm?"

[Prehysterical]

Yarl's brow drops in puzzlement. "Do the Jorlaskan have any knowledge of your people's efforts or the plague? This whole time, they were under the impression that the cold was magical in nature. And why would they charm Conor? What do they stand to gain from the Volsagi making war on the other clans?"

[RandomWombat]

Antorel raises his hands in a shrug, the gesture making everyone tense, being as he's a known, dangerous spellcaster. "How should I know? I was just bringing them up to taunt you earlier, I haven't actually worked with them. Go ask them yourselves. I doubt they know much about this if at all, but the cold is magical. They got something right at least."

[Prehysterical]

Sighing, Yarl decides to keep his end of the deal.

"How long has it been since you have had contact with the southern part of Ulseland?"

[RandomWombat]

"Our old nation was abandoned hundreds of years ago when our people retreated underground, and the gates to the deeper portions sealed off to prevent fools from accessing our most powerful weapons. You're saying that elves have moved in? Our records say they prefer to remain in their forests," Antorel crosses his arms, resting two fingers on his chin curiously. "We haven't exactly had time or resources to spare to go gallivanting around the continent. What's happening to the south?"

[Prehysterical]

"Ill tidings. The only reason that the elves are in the mountains is because their tulas are being raided by orcs. They've been driven out of three of them and their people are either refugees or slaves. The orcs are being led in secret by a group of winged men called the strix. Things are not going well for the elves. I imagine that once the south has been crushed under orcish boots, they will turn their attention north to us humans. I don't know why, but the strix hate us. With the clans having been either struggling or fighting each other, we'll be no match for them when the armies make their way through the mountains."

[RandomWombat]

"Well that sure sounds horrible! For you anyways. Doesn't affect my mission terribly, " Antorel grins and shrugs. "I mean I could be convinced to help."

"Your experiments here are over, necromancer. Don't think you can worm your way out of this," Kilgore glowers down at the shorter man- or, dwarf.

Iida nods in solemn agreement. "Not only crimes against this Clan, but against nature. These must be answered."

"I hate to side with Kilgore, really I do, but we can't trust a word this guy says. I'm no saint, but I have standards, and this crap is just twisted."

"I'm willing to barter! I mean, you were all a perfect sample size, but things have been stable so far. I only need one or two subjects to observe the long-term effects of the powder. With luck I can shove the results in the faces of the researchers back home and they'll repeal my exile!"

"I will not allow this," Kilgore insists stubbornly. Grin fading again, Antorel is glancing around the room as though searching for an opening.

[Prehysterical]

Despite having Antorel trapped, it is Yarl who feels pressed into a corner. This dwarf was clearly mad and would take the secrets of the cure to his grave if it meant spiting them. But neither could they simply kill him and be done with it. The entire clan would be doomed.

Only one terrible option presented itself to Yarl. He suppresses a sigh before fixing Antorel with a flat gaze. Yarl's voice sounds a little hollow as he asks, "One test subject?"

[RandomWombat]

Holding up a hand, Antorel makes a pained expression and wavers it back and forth. "It'd mean I couldn't measure variance at all, but one successful subject could still be presented to the research directors as a proof of concept. I'm willing to work with people here!" he adds cheerily.

The others don't seem convinced. Murdock is looking at Yarl like he's figured out what the man is thinking, and thinks it's crazy. Iida is eyeing the mad dwarf's sister cautiously. Though her bow has been lowered, the female is still on guard.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl stands tall, despite his misgivings, and looks the dwarf in the eye. "Antorel of the dwarf clan of Ulseland, I will endure this living death and journey with you north to your kinsmen. In return, before we leave, you will cure every single clansman within the walls of this tula.

You will receive no better deal than that. What say you?"

[RandomWombat]

"Sure, sure, that works for me. We won't be going north just yet unless you want to see the freaks up there though, I have to make sure you don't start experiencing side-effects in the long term," Antorel waves his hand dismissively as he corrects Yarl. "I'll need two days to prepare enough of the counter-agent to distribute it via the well water. Don't much care where we go from there as long as I can take notes."

"I have misgivings about letting this dwarf have his way, but if it cures my people I will trust in your judgement," relenting with a sigh, Chief Kilgore lowers his weapon, He is still visibly tense.

"Can't say I'm looking forward to having him follow us around either," Murdock grumbles, then muses, "I guess you make the perfect watchman now since you don't need to sleep."

"This unnatural sickness he's brought has brought us another problem," Iida loudly addresses the room, attention turning to her. "The Volsagi patrol. If we let them go, news spreads of this affliction. If we do not, Clan Volsagi will be looking for their missing patrolmen."

While the clansmen discuss their problem, Antorel's sister approaches him and they converse briefly in their own language. Afterwards, Antorel waves to get Yarl's attention. "Hey! My sister is one of our surface scouts. She was sent here to keep an eye on me, and insists on joining. Will that be a problem?"

"Can't be worse than you," quips Murdock. Antorel seems unfazed and just rolls his shoulders in a shrug at the insult.

[Prehysterical]

"I don't care," Yarl snaps in an aside to Antorel. He's more focused on the problem that Iida has pointed out.

"Let me speak with their captain. She trusts me. Besides, we need to know if any of her people have drank well water while they were here."

[RandomWombat]

Antorel raises his hands and lifts up his eyebrows, backing away.

"They've refused anything we've given them after deciding we must be monsters," answers one of the weaponthanes who came in with Kilgore.

"There is a silver lining to everything it seems. Let us return to the prison," turning for the door, Kilgore leaves the building with Iida in tow. Murdock crosses his arms and waits to bring up the rear, so he can keep an eye on Antorel as they go. One of the weaponthanes joins him in the rear guard, and the other takes the lead with the Clan Ring members.

Together the haphazard group returns to the dungeon within the mines. The prisoners are still in their cells, though the Volsagi militia captain is seated outside of them, waiting. She stands as Yarl returns with everyone, "What happened?"

[Prehysterical]

"The well water here was poisoned by this one." Yarl snaps his head to indicate Antorel. "He has explained it as them... us not being dead, but our bodies being stuck as they are. This was an experiment to combat some plague up north."

Yarl stops for a moment in consideration. "Captain, what contact has Conor had with Jorlaskan in the last few months?"

[RandomWombat]

"A plague?" one of the Voslagi prisoners looks up in fear. "What plague?"

"What plague? There's nothing up north but ice," another prisoner argues, trying to calm the first down, "The monsters are just bluffing, they're trying to infect us. Stop losing your ****."
"Ignorant morons."

"So what's really going on, then?" the first prisoner asks.

"Everyone be quiet," the militia captain orders, and silence hangs over the two occupied cells. She turns to regard Yarl with narrowed eyes. "We keep in constant communication with the Jorlaskan, since we supply them. Why?"

[Prehysterical]

Yarl responds steadily, "Antorel here has been to your tula. I should know; I saw him leave Volsagi a few days ago. He is something of a magician and claims that Conor has been... charmed by some magic. Has he he been acting strangely?"

[RandomWombat]

"Strangely? I'm not sure what you mean," the captain says, glancing at her militia patrol in the cells.

"I don't believe a word of this bison crap," prisoner 2 insists.

"He was always a progressive chief," prisoner 1 speaks up after some deliberation, "But I never saw this militarization coming." She clasps her hands around her knees, "At first it was just training the fyrd for self-defense. All I wanted to do was protect my family. When he started talking about reshaping our land from the ground up... he just sounds so convincing up in front of everyone. But the invasion of the Drovos tula..."

"I'd watch what you say," a third prisoner cautions prisoner 1, who clams up.

[Prehysterical]

Crouching down, Yarl fixes her with a stare. Not one meant to browbeat her, but a steady one as he says, "When the Volsagi invaded Himmiskan, they trapped my father in an inn and burned the roof down on top of him. He was a warrior... and they killed him like an animal.

I want to protect my family and I failed. Have you ever smelled burnt horse or felt the heat of burning homes scorch the hair off of your skin?

If you know something, I would have you tell me. Now."
[roll0]

[RandomWombat]

At first she looks about to say something, but shies away at the last moment.

It's the captain who speaks up, "I don't think any of us knew Chief Conor personally before he was elected. He has made a lot of moves to change worn out traditions, which has made the youth fall in behind him, but made enemies of the more traditional older folks. Some people started to question after the stories from Drovos and Himmiskan were brought back, but Conor's more extreme loyalists don't tolerate any dissent, and he has deniability for anything they do. If you want to know who Conor was before all of this you would need to speak to someone who knew him."

[Prehysterical]

Yarl bangs a forearm against the metal bars before turning to the captain. "Armies of orcs are burning entire tulas south of the mountains, the cold creeps ever further south as the dwarves are driven back by this plague, my people are still not safe, and Volsagi hunts me like an animal. I don't have time for a social visit."

Sighing in weariness, he asks, "Captain, the entire tula has been tainted with this poison. Even the children. Antorel here claims that he can reverse it in two days. If we let your soldiers go and report to Conor, he will order this place burned to the ground and kill everyone.

Give us two days. I can find water from outside the tula for your warriors so that they do not fall ill like we have. At the end of those two days, no matter what happens, we will release you. Give them a chance," Yarl points up to the tula above, "before a third tula burns in the North."
[roll0]

[RandomWombat]

"Others will come looking when we do not report," the captain advises.

"You're going along with this?" prisoner 2 asks, aghast.

"As captain, I'm making the decision to wait and see if the situation can be solved. Yarl, Chief Kilgore" the captain turns to look at them again. "I ask that my patrol be given one of the empty houses to set up camp in. You can post guards if you feel the need. If others come, I will tell them we are staying for a time to help reinforce the Golangi tula against the increasingly active ice trolls."

"I will allow this," agrees Chief Kilgore with a nod. "So it's settled. You will be moved into an empty home and we'll see if Antorel can live up to his end of this 'bargain'."

"Of course. I am the best at what I do."

[Prehysterical]

Yarl makes no attempt to hide his scorn. "I don't doubt your ability. I doubt your sincerity."

He respectfully asks Kilgore, "Chieftain, do I have your permission to take some barrels and bring back untainted water? The tula might already be cursed, but that does not mean that they should to draw water from the well."

[RandomWombat]

"You are free to come and go as you please. I can send one of our men and a horse with you to help gather water, if you need it," the chief replies.

[Prehysterical]

"That would be much appreciated. Have him meet me by the gate. I'd like to collect the water now, while it's safe, before the ice trolls come looking around here. Alive, dead, or in-between, I don't care to face a pack of them again."

[RandomWombat]

"Yes, the trolls have become increasingly bold. Be cautious outside of the tula," advises the chief.

"Well if there's one silver lining in all this, you're all so much stronger now!" Antorel chips in in a cheerful voice. Murdock goes to punch him, but Kilgore holds his hand back. Murock pulls his hand away and walks to the other side of the room to brood.

The druid Iida approaches Yarl as he exits the Golangi dungeon, "Surface water freezes this far north. You will need an ice-fishing saw, or to find a cave with an underground spring. There is a community toolshed built into the watchtower south of the farm and stables. Speak to the weaponthane on guard there - he or she should be able to give you what you need."

[Prehysterical]

Nodding in thanks, Yarl diplomatically asks Murdock before leaving for the shed, "Would you like to go get some air?"

[RandomWombat]

"Yeah," Murdock pushes back off the wall and follows Yarl outside. "I'll jog alongside, back you guys up if there's trouble... part of me hopes there's at least a few wolves that try their luck, something nice and simple. Too much crap going over my head right now."

The two of them make their way across the tula, to the last Golangi farm. The crops look like their struggling, with hardy root vegetables the only thing thriving in this place. The field where the livestock are kept has two cows, two horses, an elderly bison, and only about a dozen sheep. It is lightly snowing out.

On the south end of the frozen farmland is a watchtower more solid than the rest the Golangi have, which are more like elevated watch posts. This one has an enclosed interior beneath the guard's post, with an old padlocked wooden door. This must be the toolshed.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl looks at the meager food supply with open concern. One bad blight is all it will take for the tula to starve.

Approaching the weaponthane standing guard at the door, Yarl holds up a hand in greeting. "I come on behalf of Chief Kilgore and Iida. I will be fetching drinking water for the tula and the Volsagi prisoners. We will be needing a pair of ice saws and some barrels to store the water."

[RandomWombat]

The weaponthane looks down at Yarl from his post and holds up a hand in greeting. "Hey there. The chief sent you, huh? Wait... that's Murdock isn't it? I thought you left? Or were exiled. The rumors couldn't agree." The guard stands and leans over the railing to get a better look.

"I left by choice," Murdock answers, not bothering to elaborate.

One of the guards from the prison comes over after retrieving one of the horses. "Chief said to help you haul water," the man explains. He's the one with the minor wound on his arm, which he occasionally rubs at while making a disturbed expression. It seems he's become aware as well.

The weaponthane above shrugs. "Well, if Gord says so it must be true. Here," he takes a key off of his belt and tosses it down to Yarl. "Lock up and pass the key back when you grab what you need."

[Prehysterical]

Unlocking the door, Yarl steps inside and sees what there is. Despite only needing the barrels and ice saws, there might be something unexpectedly useful in here.

[RandomWombat]

The communal toolshed contains saws and hammers of various kinds, a crowbar, a few hatchets for chopping wood, a spider hanging from a web (which brushes against Yarl's face as he enters), three fishing rods, a collapsible ladder, two shovels, and a chisel.

It seems the barrels must be obtained elsewhere. Perhaps Gord forgot to retrieve them when he followed Yarl?

[Prehysterical]

Grabbing a pair of ice saws, Yarl notes the lack of barrels. He turns to the guard.

"Gord, was it? Where are the tula's empty barrels normally held?"

[RandomWombat]

Gord looks up from his arm, starting. It seems he was distracted in thought. "Oh sorry, I meant to grab one. We keep them near the well for filling with water." The well is not far from the toolshed, on the northeast corner of the farmlands.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl makes his way over to the well to grab a barrel. Hopefully, there are at least two.
Am I going to have to worry about some sort of "magic bacterial contamination" garbage? Yarl wouldn't know if that was the case...

[RandomWombat]

Nah, he can pick one of the barrels that hasn't been used in a while just in case.

After gathering two barrels and two saws, Yarl is prepared to set out.

What direction will he try searching for caves with underground water? The west is mostly flatland dotted with wooded thickets until it nears Mt. Sinenen, south are plains and hills between here and the Volsagi, and to the east things get mountainous more closeby.

[Prehysterical]

Making an uneducated but reasonable guess, Yarl begins heading to the rocky areas to the east. It is more likely that trolls might be roaming in this country, but it is also more likely to harbor the caves that Yarl seeks.

[RandomWombat]

[roll0]

1-10 is an unfortunate encounter.
11-25 is an obstacle/negative event.
25-50 is poor weather that slows travel.
51-75 is good weather that speeds up travel.
76-90 is finding something good.
91-100 is a positive encounter.

In any event, Yarl can make a Survival check to locate an appropriate cave as he travels. I'm dead tired and starting to pass out so I'll start up the next scene tomorrow.

[RandomWombat]

Not long after leaving the pitiful fence surrounding the Golangi tula, the clouds part and sun overtakes the light snow. This near to the unnatural winter, it is by no means warm, but beneath it there is no fear of imminent freezing.

The mountains rise up in the distance, the range extending northward. As Yarl and company grow nearer, the terrain becomes rocky, with grass becoming even shorter and thinner. Most small plants grow from dirt beneath the rocks, shielded from the chilling wind. There are few trees here, though rocky hills make visibility worse than the flatter plains.

Miraculously there are no encounters with trolls along the way. Yarl fumbles a bit with his survival guide and can't seem to find the correct pages detailing underground springs. The Golangi with him looks over his shoulder and tries to help puzzle it out, but the two just end up confusing each other and ending in quiet frustration. About an hour after their departure, Murdock waves a hand to get Yarl's attention. "Hey. I stepped in something wet."

Looking around, the group finds a small trickle of water running out from beneath a small overhanging hill nearby. Sure enough, they locate a small cave, though it looks like a human would need to crawl through the small brook bubbling out to get inside. Filling the barrels here would be tedious, though with a shovel they could adjust it so that the barrel rested easily where the brook was flowing down. There is always the chance that it widens further in.

[Prehysterical]

After the encounter with the wights, Yarl is no hurry to go back underground in the dark, especially in such cramped quarters. Picking up a shovel, Yarl sets it so that the barrel is filled with the spring water.

[RandomWombat]

Digging a small ditch for the barrel to rest in, Yarl places it so that it rests against the jutting rock that the water runs down.
...
...
...
It's been several minutes and the bottom corner of the barrel is barely full. This is going to be a long wait.

Huma and the borrowed horse (Yarl notices the horse is not breathing; it seems Antorel's formula has affected animals as well as people) wander around picking at the hardy mountain grass. Murdock has taken a seat atop the hill to get better vantage for keeping watch, and the Golangi man is staring absentmindedly towards the mountains.

[Prehysterical]

As he sits there, Yarl is confronted with the reality of the situation. It would take hours to fill the barrels at this rate, time that would leave them exposed on the hillside. To trolls, to wolves, to Volsagi patrols, to undead, and who knew what else...

After checking the barrel one more time, Yarl sighs and stomps his foot in frustration. "Bolts of lightning! We'll be here 'til nightfall at this rate." Turning, he tells Murdock,

"I'm going in and checking if everything is safe in there. Assuming that there is anything nasty in there, my armor will deal with it better than your speed. Keep a lookout while I'm gone."

Getting down into the crawlspace, Yarl makes sure to position his shield in front of him before advancing into the darkness... after placing the everburning torch into its sconce on his shield, of course.
[roll0]

[RandomWombat]

As Yarl enters the small cave, he encounters two strange, somewhat disturbing facts. First; he can see further than what his torchlight illuminates. The lines and terrain of the cave are visible in the darkness in surprising detail, though he cannot make out color. Secondly; stepping through the trickling water, he feels 'aware' of the wetness in a detached sense, but he cannot feel it on his skin. Ahead, the cave opens up to reveal the hill to be at least partially hollow inside. There is a mound at the back of the small cavern, atop which is a natural basin where water bubbles up from below. Overflowing from the basin, it trickles down the mound and out through the cavern entrance.

The left side of the cave contains a spider of terrifying size, the likes of which Yarl has never seen. Its legspan is uncertain since they are tucked beneath it. Nestled into a bed of webbing, the spider has the desiccated carcass of a dead wolf next to it. Against the back corner of the cave, beside the spider, is a large pack resting against the wall. Strangest of all is the brown and green striped blanket laid over the spider.

Upon Yarl's entry, the spider lifts itself up and extends its legs, perching partially on the wall. Even then it takes up half the room; this thing is the size of a horse! It stares at Yarl through eight implacable eyes, poised defensively, but does not make a move.

[Prehysterical]

After recovering from the mental shock of the beast's sighting and the strange assemblage of blanket and pack, Yarl backs up and exits the cave.

"Um... Murdock? Grab a barrel and follow me. Stay behind me."

[RandomWombat]

"Huh? Alright. Gord, get up here and lookout for trolls," Murdock slides down the side of the hill and comes around to where Yarl is, retrieving the slightly filled barrel. Gord looks up and glances around, then climbs up atop the hill.

"Can't fit it through on your own?" Murdock asks as he follows Yarl into the cave.

[Prehysterical]

"That's not the problem. This cave has an occupant... The biggest spider that I have ever seen. Strange thing is that it seems to belong to someone. It's not attacking now, but I need both hands free in the event that it does. You gather the water while I keep an eye on it. A corpse like me will do a better job fighting venom than someone who is still breathing."

[RandomWombat]

"Man I ain't seen a spider this far north in years. Too cold for them up here. You say it's someone's pe- whoa thunder of Orlanth, that really is big!" Murdock exclaims as they reach the cave. The spider backs up a little and bares its fangs at the sudden loud noise and Murdock quiets down. He lets Yarl deal with the spider and creeps around the cave, keeping as far away form the vermin as possible. Reaching the spring, he uses a mug to scoop the water from the natural basin into the barrel. It will take time, but considerably less than watching it dribble in.

The monstrous spider eyes Yarl cautiously. He and Murdock are smaller than it, but it seems to regard them as fellow predators and potential threats rather than food. It has surely encountered people before.

[Prehysterical]

Despite his own new immunity to the beast's venom, Yarl still respects the damage that such a large vermin can do to a man with those fangs. Still, curiosity gnaws at him even as the spider doesn't. Who does the spider belong to? And how intelligent is it?

He decides to carefully test the second question while acquiring the answers to the first. He slowly edges around the spider's perimeter, making his way toward the bag. Shield raised up, weapons still slung on his belt, Yarl will back off at the first sign of growing aggression from the spider.

[RandomWombat]

As Yarl re-positions, so does the spider, placing itself between Yarl and the bag. This also causes it to move closer to Murdock, who flinches and backs away. After a few tense moments he returns to scooping out the fresh spring water.

[Prehysterical]

His curiosity sated, Yarl moves back to a more neutral position. "It's a smart one, I'll give you that. Its owner was able to teach it to guard belongings." A thought strikes Yarl.

"Do you think that this spider could belong to one of the dwarves? Or is there some third party that we don't know about?"

[RandomWombat]

"Hell if I know, Yarl. That Antorel guy was sure creepy enough to keep a giant pet spider. This thing's about half full now," Murdock reports as he continues scooping the water.

The spider keeps its position near the pack, watching the two gather water.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl settles in to wait. If the spider is content to stay on its side of the cavern, all the better.

"Murdock, I want you to promise me something.

If it turns out that Antorel is lying, I want you to make sure that he never lies again. Feel free to be creative with how you interpret that."

[RandomWombat]

"Was already planning on that one," the bandit answers, the pull of his cheeks suggesting a wry grin behind his mask. "He might be a freaky magic user, but even they still gotta sleep."

It takes only a few minutes to fill the barrel in this way, and the two carefully return to the outside without turning their backs to the spider - just in case. There is one empty barrel left, which should take about fifteen minutes to fill, or they can return with just the one. Gord reports no signs of trouble so far.

[Prehysterical]

"All right, let's get that second barrel filled up and get ourselves home before it gets dark. Being ambushed by trolls at dusk is worthy of a nightmare."

[RandomWombat]

The two return into the cave, where the spider has moved back onto its nest of webbing, but remains wary. Murdock begins scooping more water, but there is a clinking in his mug as he does so. Looking inside, he pulls out a small, plain bronze ring that bubbled up from the spring. "Huh. Jackpot?" He holds it up to the torchlight.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl is distracted from his sentry duty by Murdock's question. He walks over and regards the ring alongside the bandit. "What in Orlanth's name...?" Yarl examines the water to see if anything else is sunk down below.
[roll0]

[RandomWombat]

Yarl sees traces of blood in the water. Wherever this ring was carried up from underground, its previous owner met an unfortunate fate. It may be best to clear out the blood before scooping more drinking water.

[Prehysterical]

A bad decision had turned Yarl into a living corpse earlier in the day. At this point, what was one more bad decision?

After a moment's hesitation, Yarl sticks his arm into the water and feels around for anything else inside.

[RandomWombat]

Yarl is able to find a few stones smoothed by the flowing water, which would be suitable for throwing or firing from a slingshot. Aside from that it doesn't seem anything else has come up through the spring.

[Prehysterical]

"Let us hope that this is not an omen from the gods..." Staring down at the water, Yarl is suddenly struck by an idea.

"Be right back," Yarl says over his shoulder. In moments, he returns with his bowl from his mess kit. Scooping the blood up into the bowl, Yarl places it a respectful distance from the spider before stepping back.

[RandomWombat]

The spider slowly inches forward and prods at the reddish water settled among the rocks, then quickly drinks it up and backs away.

"That's kinda messed up."

[Prehysterical]

Yarl frowns. "I was hoping that it would take longer drinking the water. I'm so curious as to what's in that bag, but it doesn't feel worth it to tangle with a giant spider of all things."

Reclaiming the bowl, Yarl asks, "Is the water clean enough that we can continue collecting?"

[RandomWombat]

"I'd boil it before using it, but I prefer to do that with most water in general," Murdock advises, then continues scooping the water into the barrel. "... Not like it'd take long to cool off again up here."

[Prehysterical]

"That ring... Is there anyone in Golangi familiar with such things? It might be worth having it studied in case it is a magic ring. Especially if the ring turns out to be cursed..." If it did indeed possess any magic, it must not have been powerful enough to prevent the demise of its previous owner.

[RandomWombat]

"Iida, probably," Murdock continues scooping out more of the water as the spider eyes them. "All those beady eyes... I wish it would stop staring at us."

[Prehysterical]

"Be thankful that it is content to merely stare and not to stab." Yarl waits for Murdock to finish.

[RandomWombat]

"Fair."

The second barrel takes a little longer to fill, and both barrels are finally stocked with (relatively) clean water. Outside, Gord is seated on the hill looking around for anything approaching, while Huma continues to munch on the mountain grasses.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl helps heft the barrels onto the mounts and saddles up. "All right, let's get back to the tula. I feel far too exposed out here."
[roll0]

[RandomWombat]

At first Yarl gets a little turned around on the way back, but once the group makes it back onto flatland they can see the tula in the distance. They take a little longer getting back, having gotten a half hour off course. Amazingly nothing has exploded or died while they were gone. The tula is mostly empty aside the watchmen, who inform the group that Chief Kilgore is holding a clan meeting at the Clan Hall.

It is starting to get late now, not that Yarl feels the need to sleep on a regular day, nevermind as the walking dead.

With fresh water secured, there is a safe supply for the people and animals not already afflicted. As for what the zombie-water does to plants, they don't seem to be any worse off so far.

What will Yarl do with his evening (and sleepless night)?

[Prehysterical]

After everything that has happened, after what he has been turned into, Yarl feels the need to think and reflect. No, to pray. And for him, there was only suitable way to calm himself and seek communion with his god.

Yarl begins looking for the smithy within the tula.

[RandomWombat]

Positioned north of the iron mines, the tula blacksmith's house is one of the few buildings still intact and active in that area. Yarl finds the door locked.

[Prehysterical]

Since the blacksmith is retired, Yarl doubts that the man would appreciate a sudden hammering outside of his home.

Working his way around to the open-air forge, Yarl kneels before the anvil and prays to Humakt for guidance and forgiveness for what has befallen the tula at his own hands.

After a few minutes kneeling, a thought strikes Yarl. He rises and goes to search for Murdock. There was still the mystery of the ring to be unraveled.

[RandomWombat]

The cold stone of the inactive forge is silent. Though prayer is often met with this silence, is this the same, or is this a deliberate silence born of Humakt's disapproval?

It takes some searching to locate Murdock, but Yarl eventually investigates some noise in an abandoned pub in the dilapidated part of the tula. Inside he finds Murdock scavenging for any alcohol that was accidentally left behind.

[Prehysterical]

Once upon a time, Yarl might have cared about such brazen scavenging. Now? He couldn't even bring himself to care.

"Murdock, may I see that ring? I want Iida to see it when the meet is done."

[RandomWombat]

"Oh, right," Murdock takes out the accessory and tosses it to Yarl. "No luck on this end. Place is dry." He takes a seat on the weathered counter, since all the chairs have been taken to use somewhere else.

"So uh, how is your whole thing holding up?"

[Prehysterical]

Yarl looks at Murdock incredulously. "My whole thing? I mean, I'm not dead, but I am dead and I'm split off from my clan and-" Yarl cuts himself off before he can continue rambling. He holds a hand to forestall any questions.

"Just... just ask me that question in a couple of days, okay? I'm still figuring this out."

Yarl leaves the old building and makes his way to the Clan Hall.

[RandomWombat]

Approaching the Clan Hall, Yarl can hear a few panicked voices shouting, with Chief Kilgore's deep voice rebounding over them and calming them down. There is firelight from inside, the fire in the center of the chamber lit. Two guards are posted outside of the double door, and let Yarl in with a nod.

The majority of the tula's meager population is gathered inside, where Kilgore must have announced the affliction on the town and the cure that is on the way. He, Iida, and Ellise are positioned at the other end of the hall. Things have begun to quiet down, but people are still discussing things with concern and picking at their injuries in fear or astonishment - sometimes both.

[Prehysterical]

Coughing lightly to signal his arrival, Yarl walks over to the three members of the Clan Ring and says in a low voice, "Apologies, but we find something interesting while securing the new water supplies. In the mountains east of here, a spider the size of a horse hides away in a cave. Stranger still, it bears cloth and guards some sort of pack. And to top it all off, we were gathering water and this ring came up from the spring along with a small amount of blood."

Yarl places the ring in Iida's hand. "Can you see if there is anything special about it?"

[RandomWombat]

Kilgore continues addressing the crowd, but delegates the other two to listen to Yarl's report. "We have a cure being prepared. For now I must advise everyone to avoid injury. Those who discover that they have suffered severe damage, come to me tomorrow morning, I will be preparing magic to repair it."

"A spider... the size of a horse?" Ellise asks in a mix of astonishment and disgust. "You sure it didn't just eat whatever poor soul the pack belonged to?"

"Allow me," accepting the ring, Iida looks at it and turns it over in her hand. She passes her hand over her eyes and whispers, whereupon they take on a pale blue glow. She continues to stare intently at the ring. "Ah, I see. This is a simple, but useful protective tool. When worn it generates a weak field that pushes away projectiles and weapons." She hands the ring back to Yarl. "I have never heard of a spider that large I'm afraid. I don't know what to tell you."

It's a bronze Ring of Protection +1.

[Prehysterical]

"I'm sure, Ellise. It had some sort of cloth draped across its back. So it is either a mount or an intelligent being. Don't ask me which."

Yarl nods in acknowledgement of Iida's judgment. "Thank you. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go speak with some of our 'guests'."

Slipping as quietly as he can out of the Clan Hall, Yarl makes his way to Antorel's home. He said that dwarves lived underground... Could this ring possibly have belonged to one? Besides, he might know about this spider...

[RandomWombat]

Antorel's sister's house is easily found where Yarl remembers it. There are four weaponthanes on guard there, and the door is unlocked. Inside, Antorel is seated at the table in the middle of the room drinking tea. His sister is not there at the moment. The fire pit has a pot of liquid warming overtop of it.

"Oh, Yarl. So good to see you again. Did you need something? Preferably something that doesn't involve a sword at my throat this time," the dwarf asks pleasantly.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl doesn't rise to the bait, but he also doesn't dignify the questions with a direct response. Instead, Yarl sits on the other side of the table.

"I found something very interesting when I was outside the walls this afternoon. A giant spider, draped in green and brown cloth, guarding a large sack. And there was something else, too."

Yarl slaps the ring down on the table and slides it over to the man. "This bubbled up from a spring. Do you recognize the craftmanship?" Yarl studies the man as he examines the ring, not entirely sure if even the outsider has any clue.
[roll0]

[RandomWombat]

"Equitantes Aranearum," Antorel answers the first question almost instantly. He lifts the teacup to his mouth and takes his time sipping from it. When he finally sets it down he elaborates, "Or 'dwarven riding spider'. The species is the result of careful breeding and modification. You almost certainly met my sister's mount, Seymora."

He looks down at the ring. "Underground, huh. Looks plain. Can't think of many dwarven jewelers who would pass something so ordinary, so I'm guessing it's a tool and not a decoration."

[Prehysterical]

Sliding the ring back into his pocket, Yarl is assured somewhat by Antorel's identification of the spider. However, the dwarf's response brings another question to mind. "Your sister... what is her name?"

[RandomWombat]

"Ah. Can't ask her yourself with the language thing, can you? Her name is Werona. Tea? No, wait - you can't taste now that the illusion is broken," taking out a notebook, Antorel flips through it. "Would you care to share your experiences with the, well, experience so far? I've never had a semi willing test subject to properly question before."

[Prehysterical]

Yarl resists the urge to sigh. He doesn't really want to answer the questions, but perhaps playing along with the madman's scheme might make him more cooperative... and less likely to go back on his word.

"Ask away."

[RandomWombat]

"Now that you've broken past the mental blocks I designed, can you describe your sense of touch, or lack thereof? Pain should still be suppressed, but are you aware of damage? How well do your extremities register contact? Do you feel changes in temperature at all?"

Yarl doesn't remember feeling cold or warm at all during his recent trip, but he recalls an awareness of 'wetness' when stepping through the trickle of water running from the spider's cave. Generally he can tell when there is pressure or wetness against his body.

"And have you noticed any urges to feast upon living flesh? There is 'ghoul' in the mix, so there is a risk that those will develop over time. If they do, I recommend you indulge at least once every two days to prevent mental degradation. It does not need to be an intelligent creature you feed from, and one pound of flesh will generally do. Dead flesh can stave off the effects of undead starvation, but will not reap any benefits or satiation."

[Prehysterical]

Yarl's reply is joyless and dry, but honest. "I can feel things, but it as if I am feeling them through a pair of gloves. I am aware of damage in my body, but there is no pain. The area where damage takes place feels even less responsive than usual. There is no feeling of warmth or cold, but there is the feeling of... being wet when I touch water.

No, I have not had any cravings for living flesh and may Humakt bar my soul from Orlanth's halls before I hold something down and cut a piece off of it to eat. I will not be weak."

[RandomWombat]

"Everything seems to be functioning properly, then. Good, good! This may finally be the success I've been waiting for," Antorel jots down his notes excitedly. "If you've not the stomach for fresh meat, just hunt like normal and eat dead meat. From what I've seen withdrawal is not fun... of course, you may not develop undead hunger at all." Finishing his notes for the day, Antorel stows away his notebook and pen.

"It will be one and a half days yet before the counteragent is finished. Without sleep or the illusion of sleep, you may want to find something to occupy your time."

[Prehysterical]

Yarl pushes down the thought of leaning over the table and strangling Antorel for all that time. Instead, he stands up and leaves without another word.

Yarl seeks out Murdock at the abandoned tavern. "The ring offers a weak amount of magical protection, but it might help to deflect blows that would otherwise cut.

Finders keepers." Yarl flips the ring over to Murdock.

[RandomWombat]

Catching the bronze ring out of the air, Murdock turns it over in his hands. He has since moved away from the counter and unrolled his bedroll in the former tavern, evidently intending to squat there. He was seated on the bedroll and looked to have been in thought when Yarl entered. "Oh, that sounds useful. Guess we're due at least one lucky break after all this crap." Slipping the ring onto his left-hand ring finger he flexes the finger and tests the fit. "Huh. Looked too big for my finger, but... I guess one size fits all?"

There is an awkward silence following, as Murdock twists and fiddles with the ring. "So. After this cure is wrapped up are you gonna go back to the elves? Or are you going to see what's up north? I think I'm going back south. Maybe I can convince s'more people to ditch Conor and Kilgore."

[Prehysterical]

Yarl sighs wearily. There is no actual physical fatigue behind it, as Yarl can no longer get tired. Instead, it shows much stress and pressure that Yarl is under.

"I have to go with him to see the dwarves. That was the deal. Gods know that I don't want to, but I'm not going to become a underhanded, honorless cur like he is.

It would be good for you to go back south. More people must be made to know the truth."

[RandomWombat]

"If I can't get to Conor just yet, figure I'll start with some birdbrains and work my way down," Murdock takes off his mask and sets it aside, wearing on an attempt at a smirk. He doesn't look much older than Yarl, and the evidence of a recently shaved beard beginning to return shows on his face. There's an old scar on the lower left side of his face that looks like it was from an animal bite. "I'll need to grab a bow once I get back to the elves. I like the drawing kind better than the crossbows folk use here."

[Prehysterical]

Yarl takes off his his own helm and sets it down. After running around for days with no time to care for his own appearance, Yarl has clear bags under his eyes and stubble growing on his cheeks.

"If you're going to go killing Volsagi, you could do something more useful than killing random soldiers. Their Trickster is feared even by their own people. If you could kill that old witch, that would go a long way toward convincing people to stand down or leave."

[RandomWombat]

"I've heard of that one. Even more off her rocker than your run-of-the-mill Trickster. Actually, she's s'posed to have been the brains behind the slash-and-burn they used on you guys," Murdock shakes his head. "Whatever you do, don't let her hook up with that crazy dwarf. All we need is the two freaks working together."

[Prehysterical]

Due to his condition, Yarl can't actually shudder. Instead, he grimaces at the thought of such an unholy alliance.

"I'll damn myself to eternal undeath and stab him through his black heart before I let that happen.

What about your people? Are you going to bring them back up, or will you let them stay with the elves while you embark on this one-man guerrilla campaign of yours?"

[RandomWombat]

"Ain't much more I can do on my own. Not sure... after this, Kilgore maybe'll listen to you about Conor. If he takes the Golangi down to join the alliance I'll go too. Otherwise I think I'll go check on the Jorlaskan and Rostandin. See what trouble I can stir up around here for the Volsagi alliance."

[Prehysterical]

Yarl nods in agreement. "If we could convince Volsagi's allies that what they are doing is not good for the North, Conor's supporters will start to question his leadership. Of course, Conor... or this 'charmed' Conor... might just see that as a bonus."

[RandomWombat]

"Still find it odd to think somebody's pulling the strings," scratching his stubble in thought, Murdock frowns. "Crazy said he thinks it's the Jorlaskan. What do you think?"

[Prehysterical]

"I can't even guess anymore, Murdock. Everything has just gotten so crazy. Elves, dwarves, undead, orcs, strix... Hells, for all we know, the Jorlaskan started all this.

...How do you feel about going and doing a little spying on them? See if they are doing anything strange, like gearing up war parties?"

[RandomWombat]

"I can do that. Nobody there knows my face, so's long as I keep to myself I should be okay."

[Prehysterical]

"Good." Yarl's face contorts as irony strikes him. "Isn't it funny how, now that I can't sleep, it's the only thing that I want to do? I can't do anything useful after dark here in the tula."

[RandomWombat]

"Don't know what ya got till it's gone, ain't that what they say?" Murdock sets his pack and gear aside and checks to make sure everything is where it should be. "If you want, we can just wait till the dwarf finishes that cure of his and I can off him in his sleep. No more problem."

[Prehysterical]

It would be easy. So easy.

"I can't. I swore to him that I would go with him when the cure was delivered. Humakt would not take kindly to one of His faithful breaking their word, no matter how satisfying or easy it may be."

[RandomWombat]

"I already knew the answer. It's why I'm still here, ain't it. But figured I'd offer," lying back on top of his bedroll, Murdock rubs his eyes and sighs. "It's been a helluva day."

[Prehysterical]

Putting his helmet back on, Yarl says, "I'll let you get some sleep, since you are one of the few people in the tula still breathing. I... need to go find something to do." He leaves the former bandit in the tavern.

Outside, Yarl is at a loss. There is no enemy to fight, the smithy is closed... Perhaps he could help with patching the holes in the wall or sentry duty?

He makes his way down to the gate, looking for whichever weaponthane looks to be in charge.

[RandomWombat]

It looks like there are two female weaponthanes currently on duty at the 'gate', if it can be called that. Neither of them are breathing or shivering from the cold and an uncomfortable silence hangs here. Indeed, the whole tula is quiet despite many people still wandering around after dark. They all must be in the same boat as Yarl, unsure what to do with themselves.

[Prehysterical]

Walking up to one of the women, Yarl asks, "Who is in charge of the watch? My mind itches for something constructive to do."

[RandomWombat]

"Aren't we all," one of the two says exasperatedly. "I never thought I'd be longing for a troll attack, just so I wouldn't have to think for a minute."

"I am Karol, daughter of Noel, the senior weaponthane on watch tonight," the other woman answers. She is older, just under middle age, with her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. The younger woman with her has shorter blonde hair. Karol adds, "This is my sister Marlene. You're the outsider? I hear you're the one who discovered this curse and found a way to banish it."

[Prehysterical]

Yarl nods in greeting. "I'm Yarl, son of Baldur, son of Garm of Clan Himmiskan. The gods sent me a dream that told me that all was not well here... though I could not have begun to guess why. I wish that I could be the one to cure it, but we are forced to rely on the word of the madman who started this in the first place."

Casting his gaze over the wall behind them, Yarl continues, "Since this curse of undeath has made me restless, the least that I can do is try and make the tula more defensible. The smithy is closed, but the events of the past few weeks have taught me not to just lie around. Is there any chance of rounding up volunteers to help patch up the wall around the tula? I'm no woodcutter or builder, but I did manage to pick up a few things about defense from my father."

[RandomWombat]

"You mean we're supposed to trust the guy who did this to cure us? Nobody told me that!" Marlene exclaims in surprise.

"Because that's exactly the reaction it would get. If the Chief believes the situation is handled we must trust in him," Karol eases her sister's panic. She thinks for a moment, then perks up. "With so many people having no need for sleep or warmth... this might be the silver lining. We could all go gather materials for the wall and repair it. Do you two think you could gather more people to help while I keep watch here? We will need tools, and wood. There is plentiful woodland at the base of the mountains to the east where we could gather materials. Enough people and torches and we'll have no fear of trolls or wolves."

"Don't you sound awfully inspired," snarks the younger sister, but she nods. "I'll go see who I can find that's willing to do something." With that she goes back into the tula.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl feels a small amount of excitement at how the guards are latching on to the idea. "I need to go check in with your Chief. We can't really get started without his permission.

I will be back soon with his answer." Yarl makes his way back to the Clan Hall.

[RandomWombat]

There are still some people milling about the Clan Hall, and a few inside asking the Chief questions or for advice. The guards let Yarl in without issue. Chief Kilgore sits in his central seat across the unlit bonfire, but Iida and Ellise are not here right now. When Yarl enters he holds up a hand to stop the woman currently speaking to him. "Sorry for the interruption, ma'am, but this may be urgent. Has something happened?"

[Prehysterical]

Yarl shakes his head. "No, nothing urgent. I do have a suggestion, however.

Right now, we have a lot of people that are scared, unable to sleep, and restless. Why not make use of that? I've spoken with some of the guards and we would like to round up volunteers to gather wood from the eastern mountains. Put it to good use in patching up the tula's defenses, which you must admit are full of holes at the moment. Do I have your permission?"

[RandomWombat]

Kilgore crosses his arms, lifting one to rest on his chin. "A resourceful plan. If you need my permission, you have it. Once I am done here I will gather the craftsmen and tools to work on the wall. Our weaponthanes double as our hunters and gatherers here, since we are short-handed. Gather as many as you need, but do not draw too heavily from the on-duty watchmen. We do not wish to show the trolls any weakness - whatever 'power' this curse might grant."

[Prehysterical]

The shieldthane nods his understanding. "We will get right to it, then."

Yarl makes his way back to the gate to see what progress Marlene has made.

[RandomWombat]

A group is beginning to gather at the gate, consisting of weaponthanes and fyrd afflicted by the curse. Karol will need to stay and watch the gate, so including Marlene there are: 5 weaponthanes and 12 members of the fyrd who have gathered thus far, plus Yarl. A cart with a single horse and a pair of wheelbarrows have been brought out to help move the wood, and four of the fyrd are geared up with woodcutting hatchets.

[Prehysterical]

It does Yarl's still heart good to see so many willing to lift up hands and get to work. He asks Marlene, "Can we grab some torches? I know we don't need them to see in the dark, but the fire will keep any stalking trolls from thinking twice."

[RandomWombat]

"We've a couple our packs," she replies, jerking a thumb over her shoulder. "Do you want one?"

[Prehysterical]

"No, I'm good." The question helped to serve as a friendly reminder as Yarl pulled forth his family's magic torch from his pack and places it within the sconce on the front of his shield.

Briefly, Yarl considers bringing Huma along, but the bison deserves whatever rest he can get. "Are we all ready to head out?"

[RandomWombat]

Marlene shrugs, "I guess so. Not like we need to pack rations." A few of the bystanders shuffle uncomfortably at the reminder of their condition.

Karol steps forward to provide some direction before everyone leaves, "There are six people among you with real training, including Yarl, and there are four hatchets. Two of the fyrd should group up with each weaponthane and follow their directions. Someone should probably watch the cart and make certain nothing startles the horse and makes him bolt, since he's not combat trained. The last group can focus on patrolling the area for danger while the others work. Does that sound fair?"

[Prehysterical]

"Sensible," Yarl agrees. "Now, let's get this done."

[RandomWombat]

Leaving Karol at the gate, the large group sets out to the east. It has grown dark already, but their undead eyes can see what is nearby and those who have gone in search of lumber before know the path well enough to lead the way. The silhouette of the northeastern mountains rises up against the sky in the distance, providing a landmark even if their guides should fail.

Traversing the hills with the two wheelbarrows is a bit time consuming, and likely moreso on the way back. Once filled they would easily spill over when not kept to the flattest ground.

Partway through the journey, in the hills, the sound of someone crying for help can be heard to the south. It doesn't sound like it's very close-by.

[Prehysterical]

Who would be out by themselves this late? Despite his misgivings, there is only option in Yarl's mind.

"Stay here and establish a perimeter. I'll go see what's happening. If you hear my warhorn, come running with weapons."

Yarl hustles toward the noise, his undead nature allowing him to at a full sprint without worrying about tiring himself before a fight.
[roll0]

[RandomWombat]

Crossing over a small hill and then a larger one, Yarl sees the shape of a fallen traveler at the bottom of the second hill when he crests it. They are tall and clad in heavy winter clothing, and one of their legs is twisted at an odd angle. "Please, I fell... Do... gnng," the person sucks air through their teeth in pain. "Do you... you have... help..."

[Prehysterical]

Yarl makes his way down the hill, though he was careful to go slow enough that he didn't go tumbling downhill and join the unfortunate traveler at the bottom.

Once Yarl reaches the bottom, he set his pack on the ground and started fumbling through it. "I might have something that can help. But before I help you up... are there any friends nearby that I should know about?" After everything that has happened, Yarl cannot help but feel suspicious.

[RandomWombat]

Yarl sets down his pack, and the figure on the ground suddenly lunges at it... with their face. They grab the thing with their mouth and bolt away southwards.

In the surprise round, the unidentified figure uses a Steal maneuver to grab Yarl's pack.

Yarl can make an Initiative check to see who makes the next move. If he beats 13 you can go ahead and take his action, otherwise the figure acts again before he can ready himself.

[Prehysterical]

Luckily, Yarl was already wary of the new figure, unexpected as stealing the bag might have been.

Raising the warhorn to his lips, Yarl tries to blow before running after the figure.
[roll0]

[RandomWombat]

Yarl draws his horn and blows it. The call rings true across the hills, and the figure bolts away on all fours. The ragged cloth that had been draped over its legs like baggy pants falls off and only a heavy winter cloak flapping behind the disguised worg as it lopes away.

The worg double moves away from Yarl. Yarl has no weapon drawn, but he threatens an AoO with his Slam attack since he's no longer flat-footed.

[Prehysterical]

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Crit: [roll2]
Crit damage: [roll3]
Fort save DC 13 or paralyzed for one round.
Swiping an angry fist at the deceiver, Yarl follows hot on its heels.
Yarl will take the run action to keep up as well as he can.

[RandomWombat]

Yarl's arm collides with the trickster beast and he can feel it shudder under the strike, but it keeps going after staggering. Charging after the beast, Yarl quickly falls behind its loping stride. Three weaponthanes and two members of the fyrd come running over the hills with weapons drawn. The fyrd each carry torches, having expected a troll ambush.

"What happened?" one of the male weaponthanes asks as they catch up to Yarl's heavy footfalls.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl kicks at the ground ineffectively. "A damn worg stole my pack! It had potions of healing inside!" Oaths and swearing poured from his frustrated lips.

Consciously drawing a sigh into his lungs, Yarl mutters, "Go back to the wagon. For all we know, this is a feint to leave it unprotected. Stick to the plan. I'll see if I can track the bastard down myself."

[RandomWombat]

"We figured it might be a trick, so we didn't bring everyone," the weaponthane confirms. "Are you sure you want to go alone?"

[Prehysterical]

Yarl nods reluctantly. "If we split up, neither group will be able to take on a troll ambush. Better we lose one than everyone. Besides, it wouldn't be the first time that I've tangled with trolls." He tried to sound more confident than he felt.

"Be safe. I'll meet you back at the tula." Yarl takes off in pursuit.
Perception: [roll0]
Survival: [roll1]

[RandomWombat]

The others reluctantly turn back towards the wagon as Yarl checks the beast's tracks. He finds a trail to follow and sets out. Far through the hills, the trail winds here and there, but Yarl is able to keep track of it even in the dark thanks to his enhanced senses. It leads him south and slightly to the east, to a large dip in the terrain. In the side of the pit below is an opening he wouldn't have seen from above if the trail didn't lead to it. It's smaller than the spider cave, and Yarl would need to crawl to get inside.

The tracking has taken about 40 minutes.

[Prehysterical]

One doesn't just walk straight into a beast's home without some preparation. Yarl stops and douses the light on his torch before unsheathing his sword. No sense in giving prior warning.

Yarl creeps down slowly toward the entrance, keeping an ear open and trying to remember what he could about the creatures.
Perception: [roll0]
Knowledge (Dungeoneering): [roll1]
Stealth: [roll2]

[RandomWombat]

Though Yarl knows little in detail about worgs, he is aware that they are large, muscular wolves. He's heard stories that they talk, but they were little more than wives' tales so far as he knew. Like ordinary wolves they must be using this cave as shelter, but usually a larger pack animal would choose a more spacious abode for their group.

Yarl hears low growling from inside, and ripping fabric.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl enters the cavern, trying not to think about the worg's recklessness endangering his supplies.
Perception: [roll0]
Stealth: [roll1]

[RandomWombat]

Yarl's clattering armor ruins any chance of sneaking as he crawls inside. His darkvision allows him to see the worg that stole his pack inside, and the torn remains of his pack behind it, contents spilled upon the floor of the small cave. Three worg pups are gathered around the ruined pack, tearing into his rations.

While Yarl is still crawling through the opening, the adult worg rushes at him, jaws snapping and spit flying. He feels pressure on his shoulder, but the teeth do not find purchase on his armor. There is room to stand further ahead, but first he'd need to get past the beast. The pups stop eating and poise themselves defensively, watching the intruder.

The worg takes a readied action and attacks Yarl while he is Prone, but even with his reduced AC it fails.

It is now Yarl's action.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl's armor proves to be a godsend in such close quarters. Still, the presence of the pups does present him with a moral dilemma.

He stops and says with strained patience, "So, you have hungry pups to feed. Honestly, you would have gotten a better reaction from me if you had simply asked for the food." It was difficult to avoid thinking about how strange it was to be trying to civilly converse with a thieving worg.

"Since I don't currently need to eat, that's fine. But my compass, my shaving kit, my bowls and utensils... I want all the other things back. Let me get them and I'll go. In fact, as a token of good will, I will even give you a potion of healing to soothe that punch that I gave you earlier. You'll need to be careful, however, as there are three flasks of alchemist's fire laying there." He stressed the two words. "Not something that you want so close to your pups.

What say you, worg?"
[roll0]

[RandomWombat]

The worg stands its ground at first, eyeing Yarl for weak points in his armor. When he starts speaking instead of attacking, it seems confused. The beast has stopped attacking for now, but still remains defensive and cautious.

"Do not glass," the worg says to its pups, which are still watching the two at the entryway of the cave. The worg stares Yarl in the eye. "You leave... I will give."

[Prehysterical]

Yarl has no real choice. He backs out of the cave and stands up, waiting for the worg. He holds his hands down at his sides, but lifting his shield up to block would be easier than child's play for him.

[RandomWombat]

From inside there are the clinking noises of metal and glass being moved. The torn-open pack is shoved out into the entrance with the torn opening facing upwards. A quick search reveals everything but the rations is inside. Either the worg couldn't figure out which was the healing potion or simply didn't trust the offer.

[Prehysterical]

Pleasantly surprised, Yarl sheathes his sword and pulls the bag closer to confirm that... yes, all of his things were there. Still, it was going to be a pain to get his pack repaired.

True to his word, Yarl unstops the healing potion and leaves it right before the entrance. "If you truly seek food for your pups, and shelter, seek out the Golangi humans and ask for Yarl. I don't know where your pack is, worg, but things are growing dangerous in the area with the ice trolls moving in. Not a good time to be alone."

Grabbing his pack by holding the ripped edges, Yarl begins climbing back up the side of the pit. Before he leaves, however, Yarl looks over his shoulder and says, "Nice to know that not all of the stories about worgs are true. May Ernalda and Chalana Arroy watch over your pups."

Then Yarl begins the unenviable task of finding his way back to the caravan.

For the record, it is a potion of Cure Light Wounds. Not quite enough to fully heal the damage, but it will help at least a little.
Survival to find his way back: [roll0]
Sigh...

[RandomWombat]

There is no answer from the cave before Yarl leaves, but no answer is better than being attacked.

Unfortunately, the caravan would have already moved on by now. Yarl is left to make his way to the mountains on his own and try to find them in the woodlands at their base. He travels east and slightly north, the mountains providing an unmoving waypoint. It is no fast task getting there, and takes five hours of constant running; not that Yarl can feel fatigue anymore. He comes across no more creatures along the way, aside a few caribou that flee when he sprints past. The moon is high in the clear sky, marking it as not long past midnight as the woodland beneath the mountains comes into view. He can see faint torchlight in the distance.

With the mountains as a marker of where to go and their torches at night, it's hard to get lost, so no roll is really necessary.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl remembers to relight his own torch before moving down to the torches.

[RandomWombat]

Everyone has split into groups and scattered throughout the area, finding suitable trees. Each group has a torchbearer, a woodcutter, and a weaponthane, with the exception of the two without hatchets. One group is on patrol, all three carrying torches. The two that had been partnered with Yarl have no weaponthane, so they've taken up positions a the wagon. One is helping load up the lumber as it comes, while the other is keeping watch over the horse.

"The light is Yarl, he's returned," announces one of the three on patrol. "No immediate danger, but stay on guard!"

One of the fyrd on patrol approaches Yarl. "Looks like you got it back. What happened?"

[Prehysterical]

Yarl calmly explains, "It turns out the worg was just trying to feed her pups. I told her I'd let her have my rations if she would just give all the rest of my things back. Although, now it's torn half to shreds and will need some stitchwork.

I take it that everything has been all right so far?"

[RandomWombat]

"The pack didn't try to attack you, a lone man?" the man asks in amazement. He shakes his head. "Everything has been going well enough. We haven't been here long yet, so we haven't gathered enough lumber to return with. It'll probably be morning by the time we get back."

[Prehysterical]

"There was no pack. It was just her... thank the gods. Just point me to where you need me."

Yarl has the presence of mind to hand the three glass flasks to the wood loaders on the wagon. "Alchemist's fire. If any trolls decide to try their luck, give them a warm welcome." He stops and smiles as he realizes that he made an accidental pun.

[RandomWombat]

"That's strange," the fyrdman comments, at a loss for an explanation. Letting Yarl get on with his own business, he returns to patrol.

The two at the wagon gratefully accept the fire flasks. One sighs in relief, "Good. I was afraid I'd have to try and get close to it with a torch."

"Uncanny strength or not, I don't wanna test how hard those trolls can hit," the other agrees.

With the work being done steadily, the night carries on for about another two hours without incident. The wagon is nearly fully loaded now, and the wheelbarrows are being loaded with the smaller lumber.

"Hold up," the weaponthane on watch says, holding up a hand. He squints. "I saw something move up in the hills."

[Prehysterical]

Yarl snaps to attention, the ambush with the feathered lizards haunting him. "Circle, thanes outside, now," he commands tersely as he tries to discern movement.
[roll0]

[RandomWombat]

Everyone gathers in a formation around the wagons, the weaponthanes positioned on the edges of the formation with the fyrd filling out the ranks. Disturbed by the tense atmosphere, the horse stamps his feet and fidgets. One of the fyrd closest to him pets his nose to calm him down.

Yarl spots several out-of-place shapes at the top of one of the hills some distance away. The shapes take notice of the formation and their discover and crest the hill. Two large humanoid figures are flanked on either side by canine shadows with gleaming yellow eyes. Two ice trolls and, from the look of it, four fully grown worgs. One of the worgs is slightly larger than the other three. They begin making their way down the hill towards the formation.

We're entering Initiative now.

[Prehysterical]

If Yarl's heart hadn't already stopped beating, it would surely have done so now. Never in his worst dreams would he have seen worgs teaming up with ice trolls.

"Hold fast," Yarl tells the others. "We can't outrun them."

Turning, Yarl unsheathes his sword and tells the two on the wagon in a low voice, "Get the fire flasks ready."

In a much louder voice, Yarl does the only thing he can: be as devious as a Trickster in this situation.

"Worgs, I know you can understand me! Tell me, is the thought of eating undead flesh appetizing to you? That's all you're going to find with this bunch!" He sweeps his arms to indicate the woodcutting party.
Initiative: [roll0]
Desperate Diplomacy: [roll1]

[RandomWombat]

Worgs - 17
Yarl - 14
Golangi Fyrd - 9
Golangi Weaponthanes - 8
Ice Trolls - Natural 1

"Kill all human. Do is tell," one of the ice trolls gruffly commands as Yarl tries to speak to the worgs. The overgrown wolves charge the formation, and as they get closer Yarl sees that they are already injured. Some other fight has left them bearing cuts and bruises.

Worg 1 charges GF4, biting them for 6 damage. The worg makes a trip attempt, but fails.
Worg 2 charges GW4, biting them for 4 damage. The worg trips them. (I will be notating prone using a same-colored line below the character's token)
Worg 3 charges GF3, biting them for 6 damage. The worg trips them.
Worg Alpha charges GW4, biting them for 5 damage.

Here is the current map (https://s4.postimg.org/spldurvwd/hillbattle.png). It is Yarl's action.
Characters with torches out are marked with red dots.
GF10 and GF11 have the flasks of alchemist's fire Yarl gave out.

[Prehysterical]

Yarl grits his teeth as he recognizes this as a coordinated attack rather than opportunistic predatory behavior.

"Back line, to the fore!"

Yarl does what he can as he moves to the nearest worg and stabs into its belly.
Against W3
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Crit: [roll2]
Crit Damage: [roll3]

[RandomWombat]

Yarl's blade cuts into the worg's side, and the Golangi surge around to surround the attackers. The fallen Golangi opt to fight from the ground rather than expose themselves to multiple attacks standing. The worg next to Yarl wobbles on its legs under the salvo of clubs raining down on it, and the fallen weaponthane cuts into the alpha with their axe.

The sound of a warhorn echoes over the hills, originating from one of the ice trolls. The other troll surges forward, raising a surprisingly well-forged battleaxe. It doesn't look like the usual crude troll weaponry, but is clearly made for a creature of its size. It digs into undead flesh of one of the fyrdmen.

The badly injured worg instinctively begins to back off, but a loud rumbling growl from the lead troll pushes it to snap at its foes again. The other three descend upon the fallen weaponthane, who howls in panic despite the lack of pain, suffering catastrophic damage.

An answering warhorn sounds from the north.

Yarl slices W3 for 7 damage.

GF1&2 flank W3 with GF4. GF3 joins inn, attacking from prone rather than standing. The four batter the worg with their clubs for 10 damage total. W3 is teetering on the brink of unconsciousness.
GF5&6 move to flank Alpha Worg with GW4. GF7 joins in. Their attacks miss.
GF9 comforts the Horse.
GW4 attacks from prone, striking the Alpha Worg for 11 damage.

IT1 sounds a horn.
IT2 slashes GF6 from behind for 10 damage.

W1&2 bite at GW4, for 8 damage.
W3 attacks GF4, biting for 7 damage and tripping them.
Alpha Worg chomps down on GW4, critically hitting for 13 damage.

A horn sounds from the north.

It is Yarl's turn. Here is the new map (https://s9.postimg.org/v53r68q27/hillbattle.png).

[Prehysterical]

Trolls with forged weapons and tactics?! By all the gods, what was happening in the North?

"Somebody watch the back! More trouble coming from the north!"
Yarl tries to finish off the worg.
Against W3
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Crit: [roll2]
Crit Damage: [roll3]

[RandomWombat]

Driving his blade into the worg's torso, Yarl kicks it off where it lie unconscious and bleeding. The Golangi move around its slumped body to get at the other worgs. One of the fyrd drags the badly damaged weaponthane out of reach of the alpha, who takes the opportunity to stand. Marlene and three fyrdmen move to engage the trolls, the nearest troll taking a wide swipe at one of the fyrd, claw sailing over their head. Out of the corner of his eye Yarl sees the Alpha suddenly slump over, and a fyrdman beans it over the head with a club while it's down. There is a howl of pain from one of the trolls as fire from a torch sears its flesh. One of the Golangi weaponthanes steps in behind the middle worg and raises his greataxe, decapitating the beast with a resounding THUNK. The last standing worg cowers, but still nips desperately at the legs of its fallen quarry in a half-hearted effort.

Some of the Golangi redirect back to the northern flank as two more Worgs come into view from behind the treeline.

The two trolls rumble into the fray, swinging their battleaxes and claws wildly.

Yarl stabs W3 for 8 damage, putting it into negatives.

GF1 charges IT2, missing. IT2 misses its AoO in response.
GF2&3&4 attack W1, clubbing it for 6 damage.
GF5 attacks flanked Alpha, dealing 11 damage with club and fist. The Alpha falls prone, paralyzed by a slam attack.
GF6 5-foot steps past the IT2's reach, attacking with his torch. The troll takes 6 damage and 1 fire damage.
GF7 performs a coup on the Alpha, deaing 13 damage. The Alpha passes its save against instant death and is merely bleeding out.
GF9 soothes Horse.

GW1 flanks W1 and critically hits for 35 damage, killing the worg instantly.
GW4 stands and 5-foot steps back, drawing their crossbow.

IT1 chops at GF1, for 9 damage.
IT2 chops at GF6 for another 10 damage. GF6 is badly damaged.

W2 fights defensively, biting at GF4 and missing.
W3 bleeds.
W4&5 enter from the north.
Alpha Worg stabilizes.

It is Yarl's action; new map (https://s4.postimg.org/mcmwbkem5/hillbattle.png).

[Prehysterical]

Stealing a glance over his shoulder in the precious few seconds he has, Yarl shouts, "Form ranks, back line! Don't let them catch you alone!"

Stepping between the horse and two of the fyrd, Yarl comes up and strikes at the last worg. It is best to put down threats one at a time rather than try to spread the damage around, especially when trolls were involved.
Targeting W2
Including flanking from GW1
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Crit: [roll2]
Crit Damage: [roll3]

[RandomWombat]

Yarl and two of the fyrdmen attack the last worg on this side from all angles, bringing the beast down. A crowd is beginning to form around the two trolls, one of which is taking heavy damage. There are whoops of excitement as more people rush in to help, but turn into exclamations of surprise when Marlene's body is sent flying out of the mess like a ragdoll. Her body has been nearly ripped in two by the massive axe, and takes on a sickly green glow. The necromancy escapes the battered body as tiny motes of light rising to the sky and Marlene expires in the mountain grass.

To the north, the two worgs charge the lines and their teeth are deflected by the readied troops. Two more trolls lumber in behind their advance worgs, one of them smaller than the rest and carrying a more human-sized longspear rather than an axe.

Yarl strikes W2 for 7 damage.

GF1 5-foot steps forward and attacks IT2 with his torch and slam. The torch hits for 5 damage and 1 fire damage; the slam misses.
GF2&3 attack W2 for 11 damage, leaving it down and bleeding.
GF5 moves up to IT2, provoking an AoO. He's hit for 7 damage, and misses the troll with his club.
GF6 5-foot steps forward and attacks IT with club and slam. The club hits for 9 damage, but the slam misses.
GF7 flanks IT2 with GF1, clubbing it for 9 damage.
GF9 soothes Horse.
GF12 approaches IT1, provoking an attack and taking 11 damage. He swings and misses.

Marlene attacks IT1 with her greataxe, but misses.
GW1 drops his greataxe and grabs the torch sticking out of his pack as he moves. He attacks IT1 with it, but misses.
GW2 moves and shoots at IT2, but misses.

IT1 lashes out at Marlene, critically hitting with its axe for 33 damage. Marlene has perished.
IT2 lashes out at GF5, 6, and 7. Its axe hits 5 for 7 damage; its claw misses 6; and its bite hits 7 for 9 damage.
Ice Troll 3 and Young Ice Troll enter from the north.

W2 stabilizes.
W3 stabilizes.
W4 charges GF4, who is missed.
W5 charges GW3, who is also missed.

It is Yarl's action. Here is the new map (https://s10.postimg.org/ed1po4lux/hillbattle.png).

[Prehysterical]

Yarl feels a small moment of sorrow as he sees Marlene's body tossed aside like a rat by a dog and he tries not to think about what her sister will say upon their return. All he can do is focus on preventing more death.

Realizing that not even the Golangi's current undead toughness would be able to stand against four trolls, Yarl hurries forward and charges at the closest ice troll, wanting to free some of the other fighters and allow them to swing back north. He drops his sword and unslings his hammer from his belt, sending its silver head whistling toward his enemy.
Yarl charges IT2, moving between GF5 and GF7.
+2 to attack, -2 to AC (AC 24)
I'd like to use Blessed Pinions, but the charge is a full-round action and the strike takes a Standard action.
Dropping the sword as a free action and drawing the hammer as part of the charge.
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Crit: [roll2]
Crit Damage: [roll3]

[RandomWombat]

Yarl rushes past the fallen body of the worg alpha and skids to a stop next to the injured troll, slamming his hammer against the giant's knee. Crying out, the troll staggers, and the Golangi follow up. Two of them beat the troll to the ground, and a third forces its mouth open and shoves the burning torch down its throat.

One of the fyrd who'd helped Yarl fight the worgs forgets how badly damaged he is and moves in to fight the second troll, only to stumble on the approach. The troll siezes the opportunity and decapitates the man with a swing of the axe. Everyone available dogpiles on the troll, but it moves with shocking alacrity as it deflects the attacks of nearly all comers.

To the north, the worgs are swiftly dealt with. There is a crack of glass and a woosh as the alchemist's fire ignites, then a shout of alarm as another severed torso goes flying across the battlefield. The burned troll roars in defiance as the younger one runs up beside it and jabs a Golangi through the chest. Against all odds the man remains standing, though flickering green light around the wound indicates he is nearly falling apart.

Yarl hits IT2 for 9 damage.

GF1 attacks IT2 with his torch and slam, hitting with the slam for 4 damage. The troll passes its save vs Paralysis.
GF2 moves into range of IT1, provoking and taking 10 damage from its axe. GF2 has perished.
GF3 double moves to flank W4.
GF4 attacks the flanked W4 with club and slam for 12 damage and paralyzing it.
GF5 attacks IT2 with his club and slam, dealing a total of 10 damage and dropping the troll.
GF6 performs a coup de grace on IT2 with his torch, for 10 damage and 3 fire damage, putting the troll down permanently.
GF7 flanks IT1 and attacks with a torch for a miss.
GF8 swings with club and slam at W5, dealing 8 damage with the club and missing the slam.
GF9 soothes Horse.
GF10 5-foot steps and performs a coup de grace on W4, dealing 18 damage and ending it.
GF11 draws his alchemist's fire and readies an action.
GF12 attacks IT1 with club and slam, but misses both.

GW1 attempts to torch IT1, barely hitting for 7 damage and 1 fire.
GW2 flanks W5 and attacks with greataxe for 13 damage.
GW3 attacks W5 for 7 more damage, killing it.
GW4 reloads and changes positions to get a clearer shot.

IT1 lashes out, biting GW1 for 8 damage.
IT3 triggers GF11's throw. The throw misses, but thanks to the troll's large size the splash weapon lands on one of its occupied squares anyways. It takes 6 fire damage (vulnerability accounted for). IT3 chops GF3 in half with a 31 damage critical hit. GF3 has perished.
YIT charges GF4, jabbing him for 11 damage with its longspear. GF4 is badly damaged.

It is Yarl's action. Here is the new map (https://s9.postimg.org/sopfyalz3/hillbattle.png).