A Gathering Storm

[Saintheart]

A Gathering Storm

An Overture (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kQFaMAAdDSE&list=OLAK5uy_kvnusQold6SvH6u5f3EnM7gMO-WVr_mRU&index=1)



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Day One


The great audience chamber of Hardwalker Hall was warm. Rather than individual fireplaces, the builders had opted for a single, long firepit running most of its cavernous length. The coals glowed red, throwing yellow and orange against the thick stone walls, radiating heat and light. The walls were bereft of tapestries or banners, unlike most Highmark holds; but there was a certain beauty to stark, near-black stone wreathed in firelight. There was also a faint aromatic in the air from the spicesand sprinkled on the coal by servants early in the day.

The chamber was empty of people but for six adventurers. A person’s foot shifting on the marble-tiled floor echoed down the empty vault of the chamber, the only other noise an occasional crackle from the firepit. Outside, the rest of Hardwalker Hall was a frantic scurry of activity: men going here, women going there, fragments of conversations and things being moved filling the air. The family’s great sabertoothed cats were uneasy: in their stable, two levels down and across the courtyard from here, they snarled and bumped at their enclosures, an occasional disgruntled snarl echoing out of the stable and reaching to the main keep’s battlements.

But in this chamber, silence.

The adventurers had been waiting for a few minutes when the door at the north end of the chamber opened. Two men came striding through, passing the three-terraced dais which held the simple wooden seat of the lord’s chair, crossing a third of the hall’s length to where the adventurers stood.

One of the men walked with a stoop. He was dressed in restrained but expensive clothes: the clothes were simple and black and unadorned with jewellery but his black cape was lined with what had to be oxera fur; good stuff for a cold snap, the best wintercloth was made of it. His eyes had the look of a man for whom sleep is a teasing mistress rarely visited.


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This had to be Lord Rowan Hardwalker. That was signified, if nothing else, by the cloak clasp he wore on his right shoulder: a silver circle bisected with two parallel vertical lines, the simple heraldry of the Hardwalker family. No one wore that symbol in that spot other than the lord of a Highmark demesne.

The other man was of a different quality. He too was dressed mostly in black, but his clothes had the look of a workman’s gear, as if of a smith, or a trader: a long battered leather robe with a high collar, circled by a belt containing any number of curious-looking pouches. His body was crowned with the hint of a smile and one of the most penetrating gazes any of the adventurers had ever seen.


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Verglas, of course, could tell what he was. He might conceal it behind a workmanlike look, but the collection of pouches, tools, and other curiosities hanging off his belt signified it: the man was a mage. Given he was accompanying Lord Hardwalker, likely then a mage advisor to the lord, a not-uncommon occurrence in holds, especially those as isolated as Hardwalker Hall.

Lord Hardwalker stopped before them, taking a deep breath. “Thank you all for agreeing to see me about this.” His eyes flicked to Ethron for a moment, narrowing for a second, then moved back to address all of them. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. Many matters, all needing attention … but this is the most vital one. This,” he said, turning briefly to the man next to him, “is Endrow O’Mists, mage to my court. I know the message I sent to you was very brief and even more cryptic, so let me now speak plainly. My daughter, Lyssa, is missing. She is fifteen. She is – was – due to stand at her Kindling tomorrow and choose a husband. Now she is somewhere, alone, and I can’t—”

The Lord bowed his head, a trembling knuckle rising to his lips. Endrow O’Mists glanced at him for a moment and sighed. He opened one of the pouches at his belt and removed a small bit of fleece. Closing his eyes for a second, murmuring, he opened his hand.

Ten feet from the adventurers, the image of a young woman appeared. She was small, light-boned, dressed in formal, dark clothes similar to those of Lord Hardwalker.


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Endrow regarded the image for a moment, then turned to the adventurers. “Lyssa fled Hardwalker Hall two days ago, on the back of one of the family’s greatcats. Because of certain derelictions, she wasn’t noticed missing for the first day.” His gaze flicked to Ethron for a moment. “It was no unplanned exercise, we think, because she took two greatcats with her. That suggests she intended to try and cover a considerable amount of ground in a short period of time.” He shook his head. “We might have tracked her, but a snowstorm blew in last night. It was thought at first that she had taken a ship in the night, or that she’d taken a trail down the coast. That was where we first sent our guards. But when those searches turned up nothing—”
“We should have sent to the Mountain for someone to scry for her,” Lord Hardwalker interrupted, looking at the image of his daughter.
Endrow inclined his head. “It would have taken far too many days to even reach the Mountain for those purposes, my lord. Days we cannot afford. Because we -- I -- believe the lady may have another course in mind – to cross the Valley of the Spear, north by northeast of here.”
“I still do not understand this idea of yours,” said the lord. He looked at the adventurers. “The valley is the old border between these lands and those of our nearest neighbours,” said Lord Hardwalker. “Fought over for generations between my family and the Darkstone clan. Abandoned by both now. How can you be sure--”
“I am certain, my lord.”
“But why? The Fall Folk make it perilous for Hardwalker and Darkstone alike, let alone a child, even with two greatcats. Why would she go that way?”

Endrow looked uncomfortable. Then delved into one of his pouches and produced a small bundle of papers. “Because of these, my lord.”
Lord Hardwalker took the yellowed, ink-scrawled papers. He frowned at them. “These are from Iohn Darkstone. Letters to Lyssa.”
“Yes, my lord.” Endrow shifted his feet. “I recovered them from your daughter’s room just now. I am sorry – the thought that this might be travel with a purpose rather than just fleeing the Kindling only occurred to me this morning.”
“Why would Niketas Darkstone’s youngest son be corresponding with—” The Lord’s words stopped as he reached a certain point in the page before him. He flipped over to the next one. And the next.
“Because it seems they are in love, my lord,” said Endrow, quietly. “And the Valley is the shortest route to Tor Bayard from here.”
Lord Hardwalker looked back up at the mage. “She fled a Kindling to go to Niketas Darkstone’s castle? Why? If Iohn Darkstone had wanted to wed my daughter, he need only have presented himself in the courtyard at her Kindling and she could have freely chosen him!”
“Niketas Darkstone would never let the match take place.” Endrow’s voice had grown even quieter. “That much is clear from Iohn’s letters. To say nothing of the consequences for all of us if Iohn came here without his father’s permission and you allowed him to stand for choosing. Your daughter must choose at a Kindling. Rarely is it permitted otherwise. Even for the children of lords.”

Lord Hardwalker let out a great sigh, looking up to the ceiling for a moment. “Shattered chains. Do the letters speak of where they plan to meet?”
“No, my lord. The last letter is dated some weeks ago and speaks only of the possibility of a rendezvous in the Valley, not precisely where. My guess is that Lyssa retained at least the one that tells her where to meet Iohn, if only to remind herself where they were to meet. Or indeed she might have kept it to prevent us from finding her.”
“It’s madness. Madness.” Lord Hardwalker rubbed his eyes.
“But not implausible madness,” said Endrow. “Your family’s greatcats are potent animals. She may have thought them enough to allow her to make a crossing of the Valley of the Spear if she travelled quickly.”
“Then she could have reached the far end of the valley safely?”
“I think not, my lord.” Endrow seemed to reconsider his words given the look that then crossed Hardwalker’s face. “By which I mean – not by now. The hazards of the valley are formidable. She is unlikely to have got that far yet, particularly with the snowstorm. I am convinced she is still somewhere within the Valley. Though the dangers grow every day, even if she has sheltered in place somewhere.”
“What do you mean?”
“Our skywatchers – and this accords with my own calculations – are predicting another storm. A Gravewind.”

The dwarf and the illumian immediately knew the full significance of that word. A Gravewind storm was one of the fiercest storms that could rage across Horizon, containing both natural rains of snow, ice, hail and magical rains of particles that could harm the unsheltered in other ways. It could travel at twice the speed of a group moving beneath it. Worse still, a Gravewind storm’s pushed the temperature further and further down as the days passed and a traveller remained in it. The temperature could at its worst reach the point of unearthly cold. Attempting to travel through a Gravewind storm was even more perilous than trying to travel through Horizon’s generally hostile weather conditions. Even among the brave or the foolish, few tried, and fewer still of either persuasion lived.

Most of the adventurers did not have deep knowledge of the natural world, but most people on the face of Horizon knew what a Gravewind storm was and that it was aptly named. It was one of the fiercest storms that could rage across Horizon, containing both natural rains of snow, ice, hail and magical rains of particles, often lethal to those caught in its path.

“When?”
“It will reach Hardwalker Hall in sixteen days. It’s moving north to south, so it will reach the Blade River, at the north end of the Valley, in fourteen. And forgive me, my lord, but there is no way Lyssa will survive a Gravewind storm even with her greatcats. Cold weather gear is woefully insufficient to weather such a tempest and she has no magical aid.”

Lord Hardwalker’s eyes had closed sometime during Endrow’s speaking. He now took a shaky breath, and turned to the adventurers. “So there you have it. My daughter is somewhere out there in the Valley of the Spear. She must be brought home. I have no guards or vassals who can set out immediately other than you. I promised you a great reward in my message. So again, let me be plain: find and bring my daughter back alive, and you will have Hardwalker Hall as your shelter and home for life. This place will offer you succour and support, on my honour as the lord of Hardwalker Hall and on the shades of my fathers before me. I will offer you all the support and information I can. What do you say to that offer, and what questions do you have?”

TAG: All

[DrK]

Njal

The windblow dwarf stood near the back, warming his cold bones by the massive fire trench. He was wide and squat, leather trousersa dna boots still caked with mud from the hills leading down the town where had only recently arrived. At the sounds from the stable he turned, looking towards the stable where he stabled Stormrir. The big husky, a mass of grey and white fur sat on the floor near his feet. THe occasional crunch as it gnawed on a large chunk fat covered bone growling happily. Njal stood by the dog and patted its head fondly and listened intently.

As the mage finished speaking Njal looked to the windows and the grey skidding snow clouds outside. "A gravewind Mage. Aye she will be dead then." His voice was gravelly and flat. But the mage was right, a slip of a girl on a great cat would not survive a gravewind. "If she does no find a cave then we'll find naught but frozen bones."

He looks at the old man and points to the mountains outside. "If ye give us a map and where she may be I'll join a search party. It be a bad way to go. I've seen too many claimed by the winds." He glances around the room nodding to the longshanks in the room, a deeper nod to the tiny gnome woman and a friendly nod to Ethron. "I am Njal, "stormcaller" some call me, though bugger'd if I know why." Looking at the the guard he inquires, "How is old Olaf Svenson, he still standing watch at the gates with you Master Ethron"


Njal comes and go's regularly to Hardwalker so is probably known to most of the Town Guards. Olaf Svenson is a "friend" from his background who is one of the hurscal's in the town.

[Goaty14]

Ethron stood along with the others. He kept his back straight and his gaze forward, but never dared to look back at Lord Hardwalker nor Endrow in their displeasing gazes towards him. A show of cowardice, perhaps, but this mission, suicidal as it may be, was Ethron's only option left, lest he embrace the life of an adventurer but... an adventurer?!
...
Ethron was getting ahead of himself. He only meant to survive this excursion, return Lord Hardwalker's daughter, and return to a life of not-risking-his-life, however shameful this misdeed may impact him.

Once Endrow revealed Lyssa may have left intentionally, Ethron stopped himself from smirking. His guard experience taught him that runners are rarely willingly go back, and his pair of Average Manacles in his sled would surely be of use. Not that being prepared would lessen his chances of death, but Ethron always liked to see a bit of planning come to fruition*.

Returning his thoughts to those before him, Ethron noted Njal with him. He responded "Olaf has seen better days, but it has been only me... recently". Ethron half-hoped that Njal would catch on and stop talking, but The Father knows Ethron could do with less shame, particularly on a stress-inducing mission as this, for a "first-time adventurer".

*((A reflection of his LN alignment, if you will))

[Saintheart]

While Njal and Ethron were talking, Endrow was rummaging amongst his pouches. Now he produced a long scroll that could not have fitted into the pouch without folding it. The mage then fished out a piece of string and a bit of wood, and again came the murmuring, words forgotten as soon as one tried to hear them. The scroll unfurled itself, held itself wide before the adventurers, floating in the air as though held in place by some unseen servant.


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Lord Hardwalker nodded. “This map is about the best we have here. It dates back some decades. No one has tried to map the Valley for years.”
Endrow pointed to it. “The Valley of the Spear is named for the thin range of mountains that run across its middle, which we call the Spear. When you see it you’ll understand why: it looks like a spearhead laid on the ground -- high at the western end, tapering to a lower end in the east. We know of only one pass through the Spear: Lastbreath Pass, towards the eastern end. It looks like a wide pass on the map; I'm afraid it's not to scale. The pass is not a safe passage at best; it's prone to avalanches. When they were still contesting the valley, the Darkstones managed to raise a small fortification at the southern end of the pass – that’s marked here -- but as far as we know it has been long abandoned. The Darkstones could not hold onto the valley any more than we could.”

“And that,” said Lord Hardwalker, "is because some decades back, a band of Frost Folk settled in the northwestern foothills of the Valley, north of the Spear. As they often do, they grew in number, became used to the lands far more quickly. They drove both the Darkstones – and my fathers – out of the valley. They’re consummate hunters and archers, appear and disappear in the snows almost at will. We can’t find their villages. We rarely see any herds, indeed we’re not exactly sure what they herd. And they have a far better command of the snow and the hills than most of our people have. Our saving grace is that they’ve not come south of Lastbreath Pass in years.”

Lord Hardwalker’s story was consistent with wider experience. Frost Folk were said in stories to have been descended from men who struck a bargain with dark spirits around the time of the elves’ disappearance. Mostly humanoid in appearance, they were tall with pale, snowy skin, and a noticeable chill was said to hang in the air around them. A Frost Folk man’s left eye was always pure white with no pupil, and constantly steamed, as though the eye were burning. They tended to use battleaxes, but they moved faster than one could expect in snow. They wore furs, but hardly had need of them; they were said to be completely immune to cold, could see in the dark, and could lay ambushes for hours, lying beneath powdery snow. Their archers were supposedly regarded higher in the culture as hunters, and their hunting parties often travelled with ice dogs. Though they seemed tribal, Frost Folk were at least a pox on the holds of Highmark and the northernmost Chalice holds.

Lord Hardwalker’s story was consistent with what they’d heard about Frost Folk. They were said to be descendants of men who had made bargains with dark spirits after the elves disappeared, and dangerous in the snows – though they’d never heard of Fall Folk completely butchering a large contingent of troops in pitched battle before.

“But they certainly control the land north of the Pass,” said Endrow. “They don’t fortify their places. They don’t need to. Their strength lies in their mobility and the fact they know the land and the snows better than most druids. Present company excepted, I am sure. Either way, they have raided and driven off the entire Darkstone presence north of Lastbreath Pass. These two places – Northmill Dam and the Tower of the Moon – as best we know are ruins. The Tower of the Moon as far as we know fell first. Northmill Dam was the site of a great battle, the last one fought in the Valley, the only time the Frost Folk gathered in force. It culminated in the death of five hundred Darkstone men and the collapse of the dam itself, or so the story goes. The Blade River is mostly frozen over, of course, even now.”

Lord Hardwalker indicated the bottom half of the map. “South of the Pass, there are really only three places that we are reasonably sure are standing: the old ranger hut, the Icethorn Plantation, and Kirillin Manor … which is noted on the map more as a warning than anything else.”
Endrow nodded. “The plantation is the one place you’ll find anything approaching an ally out there.”

Icethorn, at least, was something the adventurers all knew about. One of the strangest plants to survive the elven retreat, icethorn was a tree up to ten metres high with branches like grasping white hands with long, black, slim and rigid leaves. An icethorn tree's trunk was thick with nodules – right below the bark through to the tree’s central core – that could be harvested, milled and used in any number of foods -- sometimes as a replacement for flour, sometimes as a replacement for meat. It was one of the most nutritious food sources in Horizon. But it was virtually never grown in plantation; the plant resisted agriculture or cultivation. The fact there was a plantation of the stuff was remarkable in itself. Most significant of all: whether in some sort of symbiosis with other creatures, or as a defence mechanism, the air temperature dropped within the bounds of even a copse of icethorn. At the heart of a wild, untamed icethorn wood, the air could chill so much that whisky would freeze.

Endrow continued, “It’s run by a cabal of Illumians.” His eyes went to Mundstock for a long moment. “Duskwatcher Abthek is the name of the Illumian who runs the place. Or at least he’s the one that negotiates with the outside community. It’s a fortified plantation – enough to throw off all bar a truly serious assault – but they’re dug into some hills and slopes and they produce icethorn for Hardwalker Hall, in return for the Hall’s protection and other trade goods. Sometimes traders will brave the Pass and when they do, the plantation’s usually where they go first. So they’re reasonably well-supplied if you really do need help out there.”
“In fact,” said Lord Hardwalker, “it’s possible Lyssa might have stopped there. I just realised. They don’t regularly send word to us, she may have gone there for shelter.”
“But she may also have avoided the place too,” said Endrow. “Which brings us to the ranger hut in the western mountains. It is one of our oldest outposts, used as a waystation for our rangers when my lord's family were still contesting the valley. But as they abandoned the Valley, it fell into disuse. Still, she knows the place, and might well have gone there first. Or gone there for shelter.”
“And lastly, there is Kirillin Manor. Or what’s left of it, anyway.” Lord Hardwalker looked at it with a certain something in his eyes; something like apprehension. “If she went there I do not know why. It’s an old elven ruin. One with a black history carried down even to us, fifteen centuries later. The place is haunted. Dangerous. Few who go in there ever come out again.” The lord shook his head. “She knows that place’s reputation, too. But if she went there to throw off pursuit it would have been more foolish than I give her credit for. Even grown men avoid the ruins.”

“This is not to say these are the only buildings or ruins you might come acrossin the valley,” added Endrow, finally. “There will be the odd subsistence farmer or hunter or prospector looking for his life or his fortune in the valley. But many more have gone into the valley and not returned."

"I realise the map isn't much," said the Lord. "It’s not as though a cleric of the Father has been out there and conducted a survey. I’d call it a good fifty miles or so from here to the Old Fortification, and then perhaps another fifty miles to the Blade River once you’re through Lastbreath Pass.”

“But even then the time to travel through those areas is different.” he continued. “South of the Spear, snows accumulate. It might be a day's journey as the crow flies from here to Abthek’s plantation, a day and a half to Kirillin Manor or the ranger outpost, but heavy snow will slow anyone down, take twice the time you think to get there."

"On the other hand, there are mountain trails to the ranger outpost, and one that passes close to Kirillin Manor, and indeed goes on to Lastbreath Pass -- they're marked as the broken lines on the map. There’s not much in the way of snow there; something about the exposure of the paths to high winds, it tends to scrub the paths clear. But for that same reason they’re far more dangerous than travelling on the valley floor. No one travels the mountain trails lightly.”

Endrow cleared his throat. “North of the Spear we’re not so certain. There’s a great icethorn wood there, and icethorn fosters thick undergrowth. That will also slow a man down. The foothills are somewhat easier terrain, but there the risk is rather more of being accosted by passing pedestrians.” He tried to make it a joke. It failed. “From what we know, the rolling terrain still leaves it a two day trek from the Pass to Northmill Dam – and another day to the Tower of the Moon if skirting around the wood’s edge.”

TAG: All

[Niobaran]

Maxis (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2192733)

The young woman had stood in silence while gulping down the many pieces of information thrown at her. She is tall and slender, with short brown hair and functional clothes speaking of a belief in pragmatism. A donned breastplate and a shield on her back showed that she was prepared for combat, underlined by the big maul that leaned next to her at the wall. She had given her best to hide a certain young impatience. It was as difficult to her to stand immobile in one place, as it was for flames to stand still. As often, her eyes sought the flickering dance in the fire pit, and helped her focus. When asked whether she accepted the deal, she had wanted to speak, but others did, so she waited for the second flood of information to wash down on her. It was much, too much even. Quickly, she produced a piece of parchment from her scroll case and started scribbling down some of the information.

Once there was a brief pause again, she lowers the parchment and steps forward. One hand resting on the grip of her maul, she speaks confident words: "I am Maxis, Maiden of the Firekeeper. Your daughter may be in great danger, my lord. But fear not, her endeavor, as foolish as it is, speaks of inner strength and desire. I will find her before it is too late, and protect her from the cold wrath." or die trying she completes the sentence in her head. But how could she ask for the support of the fiery lady if she herself had no confidence in her own ability? Also, she is much too young to understand that some promises are better not made.

[Riggdgames]

Roland stands mute, hands clasped behind his back as he listens intently while Lord Hardwalker and Endrow converse back and forth, the tale of Lyssa's love-across-the-valley unfolding before Lord and adventurer alike. He'd selected his best outfit when he'd received Lord Hardwalker's summons, which amounted to his least travel-stained wool coat and heavy cloak, neither of which had started out a shade of dull brown. Though oblivious to most of the subtle trappings of power that filled the chamber, Roland could not ignore the single, near room-length firepit and everything it implied. Heat and light. Wealth and comfort. He can't help noticing a couple of the others are also preoccupied with it in their own way, warming themselves or stealing glances. As he watches the firelight dance on the dark walls, Roland turns Lord Hardwalker's plea over and over in his mind. Find her, and Hardwalker Hold will be your home for life. This place. A place of warmth, and light, and perhaps even rest. A real home.

As more details emerge, Roland scratches his beard, staring intensely at the map unfurled in the air before them. They were damned lucky to have the letters, that was sure, but the girl took one too many. His heart sank as he thought of all the ground that lay before them without the slightest indication which path she took, or where she planned to meet Iohn.

A young voice breaks in confidently after Endrow finishes describing the land north of the spear, her words echoing through the chamber. With a start, Roland realizes she's one of the faithful, a self-proclaimed maiden of the Firekeeper. With little time to react, however, Roland can only hide a grimace as she extends a fervent promise to find Lord Hardwalker's daughter, and bring her back alive. He looks askance at Maxis, trying to gauge her for a moment before his eyes wander over the other adventurer's on either side. Clearing his throat, Roland resigns himself to speaking next.

"My name is Roland, Lord, Roland Parnum, and you have my shield. If it's in my power to find and protect Lyssa with it, then I will. But," Roland starts to say, coughing and clearing his throat once more before soldiering on. "A thousand pardons Lord. I don't wish to wound you further, but on the road we have a saying. 'Prepare not for the summer breeze, but for the winds of winter to howl.' I will do whatever I can to bring your daughter home safe to you Lord, but make no mistake, with two days lost we may already be too late. Prepare for the worst Lord, and pray for the best."

[Toliudar]

Verglas (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2191652)

The trim little gnome woman, young and pretty enough, after a fashion, but with an edge that any teenage boy would have identified as 'too crazy to be worth it', had listened patiently to the description. As the others crowded around the scroll, she lost sight of the map, and so eventually grew impatient, wove through the legs of two of the men gathered around, and snatched it down for a moment for a closer look, before releasing the map again.

Her words were like the path of a waterspout guided by a toddler: ragged, sparkling, and rarely predictable.

"While some small part of this is clear to me, one element at the heart of it I don't think I understand.

"Your daughter's in love with this Niketas fellow, and only had a few weeks before she'd have to pick someone else to marry. All clear. But if you, Lord Hardwalker, would have approved the match, and the problem would have been the boy's parents, then they can't have been planning to settle with his family. If she intended to return here, having consummated or what-have-you with the little Niketas, then it would have been much simpler for him to get away and come here. So they must have been planning to go somewhere else after meeting, other than one of your two, uh, charming mansions. Is there a third destination best accessed from this valley that they could make their way to from this area here?"

The pert gnome smacks the centre of the map with the top of her staff for emphasis.

"Also, the two have been trading messages for weeks, as you say, good Master Endrow. What is the path followed by these letter carriers - and presumably that which would have been followed by the Niketae attending your daughter's growing-up-thing. Why would the young couple have not simply used this clearly safer and more reliable path between your strongholds? What drove them to the path of greater danger? Or is it some kind of ruse to throw us off her true path?!"

The young woman's voice rises to a bit of a squeak at the end. She takes a moment and collects her thoughts.

"Well, no, probably not. But still, it seems illogical to have so cunningly and executed a plan that would get you killed oh I'm Verglas by the way Verglas Ulizgrant. Scholar of the ancient arts, at your etcetera etcetera. Still, it's *amn perplexing. Going after them will most likely get us all killed. Let's do it."

She glances around at the other five, and nods confidently.

[DrK]

Njal

The dwarf looks at Ethron, but slowly catches on and quietens down. As the Maiden of the Fire and young Roland speak he studies the map carefully.

"Has the girl been to the valley Lord? She may travel a familiar route?" He runs a hand through his thick heavy beard as he thinks. "We should take the fastest route, with a 2 day lead tracks will be long snowed in. Unless she has familiarity with a path we should have to the neck of the spear and can wait there or start working out way back after a few days."

[Saintheart]

Endrow and Lord Hardwalker glanced at one another as Verglas rambled, but Njal's question came before they had a chance to answer her.

The lord folded his arms. "Lyssa has only been in the southern half of the valley, and that a small journey in with a few years ago. She's not fully familiar with all the terrain. But she does know where the old ranger outpost is; a mount amongst her escort went lame and they had to stop in there overnight. My feeling is that if she got into trouble she would certainly have considered that as a refuge briefly."

"But the gnome makes a penetrating couple of observations," said Endrow. "It is true the letter carriers go around the valley by a much more circuitous route. But had she taken that route it is certain she or Darkstone would have been marked or possibly stopped; there is no practical way she could go to him, or he to her, in any way secret other than by the valley. As for their communications, it's possible she and Iohn corresponded by raven; they're intelligent birds and can carry a document of the kind written. We don't know. I do know there is no third way out of the valley. The Blade River is its northern boundary and entirely mountainous beyond its far shore. Although I suppose the Darkstones might know that end of the valley better than we and therefore another way out of the valley north."

[Toliudar]

Verglas

The gnome tilts her head, absorbing every detail.

"That is very well considered, Lord Hardwalker. Very reasonable.

"Not in any way to second guess our own no doubt significant capabilities of me and my colleagues, but have you tried to send information to the family of this Dear Iohn? Perhaps by one of these clever ravens? They may wish to send their own, ah, espeditionary force. Double the odds of saving both young folk, so to speak. Not that we will fail and die, of course, of course."

She nods at her colleagues, and nods her readiness to depart.

[Riggdgames]

Roland

Roland rubs a pair of weary eyes after studying the map, running a hand through dark hair that is already starting to grey.

"Well put, um, Ver-glas, was it?" Roland asks, stumbling slightly over the name. "If a message can be sent to the Lord of Darkstone, he may yet be able to aid us before the Gravewind falls. Surely it's worth considering?

"Either way, I think Master Stormcaller has the right of it. We should make haste towards the pass. I do not claim to know what road the lady is most likely to have taken. I only know that all trails lead there if she's to meet the Darkstone boy north of the spear. Perhaps we may catch her there or find some sign that she's passed that way."

A question gnaws at Roland, though he can't quite place it at first. A subtle push of inspiration allows it to slowly form as he speaks once more.

"If she was willing to risk everything for Iohn when she left two days ago, perhaps she was willing to risk the fastest and most-dangerous route. If she took the mountain path and skirted past the Elven ruins, could she have gained the Old Fort before the storm fell last night? Forgive my ignorance, Lord, but is such a journey possible with two of your greatcats?"

[Auranghzeb]

Mundstock (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2024115)

Mundstock listened to everything said without uttering a word. She seldom spoke anyway, and mostly when she did was to sing old songs.

She knew the dwarven druid, and the recently arrived wizard had caught her attention as soon as she saw her, for magic was Mundstock fascination.

While they made questions she braided her hair, and then obliviously glanced at the map. She knew the area well, so she could picture the king's descriptions in her mind.

She walked near the fire and kneeling close to it she warmed herself and started to sing very softly, humming a song.

Then after the Roland asked his questions, she finally said.


I am sure your daughter is alive. For the Wildman would not let the storm take her, but we must hurry.

[DrK]

Njal

THe doughty dwarven druid looks around the room. "If she knows of the rangers hut we can hope to the Maiden that she has the sense to head that way". He looks at the rest of the room. "Shall we push that way and make haste to the pass. We'll have to move fast to keep up with the greatcats." He glances around the room some more, continuing in his blunt tones, "I have my horse, what manner of beast can you bring so that we can travel fast in the wilds?"



@ THe GM - what time of day is it?

[Goaty14]

Ethron

Ethron spoke quietly to the others, still careful not to bait Lord Hardwalker's sad yet spiteful eyes, offering his take. "If we cannot overtake the greatcats, I think it would be wiser to conduct more investigation along the way to find the nature of where she's going, whether that information could be found at the lodge or at the plantation, but to try and look for such information would be wiser than to not try at all."

Something crossing his mind, Ethron looks up at Lord Hardwalker and Endrow, asking "And how much can the greatcats carry? Can they be equipped with saddlebags? When we find her, how prepared for the cold might she be?"

[Saintheart]

Endrow nodded at Ethron's comment. "You may have at least a little grace of time. It seems to me that Lyssa would hardly agree to a rendezvous in such a place that did not have some flexibility in its appointed time."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not," replied Lord Hardwalker. "She is not foolish, but neither is she equipped for a long camp in the Valley. The greatcats can carry two riders, but they are not well-suited for heavy loads. They can take a saddlebag, but--?" he looked at Endrow.

The mage shook his head. "No, it doesn't appear Lyssa took much with her. There hasn't been enough time to do a full audit of stores. We can see ten days' worth of food, waterskins are missing. A winter bedroll is gone, a portable hut, and some basic cold weather garb. Nothing like the higher-end protection of the kind I've seen Master Njal wear. And she certainly doesn't have the advantage of Master Njal's race, either."

"And whether she went by the mountains or straight across country she could have reached the Pass before the snows began to fall on the back of a greatcat," said Lord Hardwalker. "If she went up the mountain trails - dangerous though that would have been - then the cats could have easily gotten her to the Pass in two days. Going directly across the Valley, despite the snows she could have made it most of the way to the Pass by the time of last night's snowstorm. A man on horseback could only make about 24, 25 miles in a day, and only half that in deep snow. If he pushed his horse, travelled on into the twilight, he could make perhaps 36 miles. But the greatcats are more used to the snows, and they move faster than any horse. On a greatcat, she could have made 32 miles across the Valley in two days, in deep snow. But if she pushed them for those same two days? Then she could have made a good 48 miles ... leaving her at, or just shy of, the Pass before the storm struck last night."

He lastly turned, wearily, to Verglas. "And much as I might like to, as much as it would otherwise make sense -- I cannot send to Lord Darkstone. Niketas Darkstone holds an enmity for my family almost as great as my indifference to his. There is old blood - and blood much more recent - that drives him. If he were to find my daughter, she would live ... but I know Niketas Darkstone. And I wonder whether she would have regarded it as better that she had perished."

[Riggdgames]

Roland

Roland turns the figures over in his head as the Lord Hardwalker explains the capabilities of each mount in the Valley, and nods grimly. "We'd best get a move on while the day is still young. My horse, Ember, awaits in the stables," he says, by way of answer to Njal's question. I can make ready within the hour if we're all in agreement here," he continues, looking around at the assembled faces. "Shall we meet at the north gate as quickly as possible?"

[DrK]

Njal

THe dwarf looks at the man and nods, a smile on his craggy face at the swift decision making. "Aye. If his Lord could supply some meat and feed for the horses we can be away as quick as we able." He glances out the weather at the heavy clouds. "Best prepare for the cold as well. It will be a long afternoon and evening in the saddle."

[Toliudar]

Verglas

The gnome gestures to her small pack.

"I travel light. If someone has room for a box, not a large box but sadly fitted up with wheels not runners, perhaps foolishly, I'm good to go now."

[Goaty14]

Ethron

"I have a sled-wagon, loaded with supplies I think will be useful, and with space for your gear too. Here, I'll show you" Ethron immediately responded, leaping at the chance to be out of the hall and out of Lord Hardwalker's dreadful gaze, as he turned and showed Verglas (along with anybody else whom chooses to follow) to his vehicle, ready to leave.

[Toliudar]

He lastly turned, wearily, to Verglas. "And much as I might like to, as much as it would otherwise make sense -- I cannot send to Lord Darkstone. Niketas Darkstone holds an enmity for my family almost as great as my indifference to his. There is old blood - and blood much more recent - that drives him. If he were to find my daughter, she would live ... but I know Niketas Darkstone. And I wonder whether she would have regarded it as better that she had perished."

Verglas blinks twice, and nods. There were a thousand shades and variations of evil and stupidity in the world. it was clear that this Lord had seen more of them than she had, and she was grateful enough for that. Time enough to fix the world properly once she had the power to do so. In the meantime, she merely gave the gift of not speaking her thoughts, but merely nodding respectfully, and taking her leave.

--

Ethron's kind offer made her face light up.

"Ah, well that's excellent Ethron Ethron good name there's a kind of forward motion to it that speaks well to the task at hand Ethron My box is just over there if you can point me in the direction of your wagon I'll get loaded up and settled in and then we can go wherever you need to. It's funny, the box has been with me, invaluable really for years no but I doubt I'll be using it much on this particular outing. I should, I suppose ask if you have a good record of driving and staying on the mark not hitting things or driving off mountains that sort of thing."

[DrK]

Njal

THe dwarf heads into the stables and throws the heavy winter full cloth and saddle over the massive shaggy horse. The beast looking like an equine version of its owner. Mounting up he looks down at the massive husky that is jumping around the courtyard excitedly. Trotting out to the Courtyard Njal looks to the others and then stares at the mass of storm clouds. Reaching to his waist he pulls out a think stick of hickory and taps it on himself to give some respite from the weather.



Cast Endure elemnts from the wand

[Auranghzeb]

Mundstock

She fails miserably at using one of her scrolls... The vicissitudes of the dilettante... she laughs it off and assumes she'll have to endure the cold with her thick fur coat.

She enjoys the heat of the fire one last time.

She goes to get her skis and wait for the others outside, getting used to the freezing air.

[Riggdgames]

Roland

Roland weaves back through the bustling courtyard to the stables, tossing the boy an extra silver piece for taking good care of his chestnut mare, Ember. He looks up fondly at the beast, scratching her neck. "How'd you like these stables girl? They treat you well enough? Hope so. Might be we've finally found a place that'll put up with you," he says with a half-grin, the mild-mannered mare staring back at him without so much as a sound. "Don't give me that look," he says, giving her one last pat.

As the pair reappear in the courtyard loaded down with gear, Roland juggles a heel of bread and some dried meat in his free hand, taking advantage of their last moments of respite. An energetic husky darts around Roland and Ember, spooking the horse momentarily and causing Roland to choke, bread crumbs sputtering out as he doubles over. The choking turns to a wry laugh as Roland wipes his mouth and tears off a chunk of meat, tossing it to the good boy. "Glad you're on our side, pup. What's his name?" Roland shouts over to Njal.

Finally arriving at the supply-laden wagon mostly unscathed, Roland whistles appreciatively. "Doesn't appear you've gotten much rest these past days, have you? Still, no doubt we'll appreciate it on the road ahead," Roland says to Ethron, unloading some of his own supplies into the wagon. "Forgive me Verglas, I didn't mean to pile gear where you'd be sitting," Roland says, shifting his stuff around to make room for the gnome.

[Niobaran]

Mundstock

She fails miserably at using one of her scrolls... The vicissitudes of the dilettante... she laughs it off and assumes she'll have to endure the cold with her thick fur coat.

She enjoys the heat of the fire one last time.

She goes to get her skis and wait for the others outside, getting used to the freezing air.

Maxis approaches Mundstock. "I saw you try to use the magic scroll. Maybe I can help you with that, if you will? What effect did you try to invoke?" She sounds friendly, and apparently appreciating the fact that Mundstock tried to accomplish something and was not upset about failing. A good start.

[Goaty14]

Ethron

Looking down at Verglas' never-ending babbling put a smirk on Ethron's face - surely with such a textbook of information, he may never get bored on the trail! He replies to her "No worries - I've worked with horses most of my life; this shouldn't be too much work", and loads her beloved snow-chest onto the cart. Though he speaks with confidence, Ethron knows that he hasn't been too far beyond the city gates, and hopes that the oncoming challenges would prove easier than feared to be.
...
Hopping up on the driver's seat of the cart, Ethron's "preparations" consist of stretching his arms, as he knew it would only be a matter of time before they grew sore from driving oh-so long. At least, the cold didn't bother him, and whether from long nights on watch made him accustomed to it, or merely by his own ancestral blood, he did not know.

[Saintheart]

Early afternoon, Day 1
Complication Pool: 3 of 6

The wind bit the moment they cleared Hardwalker Hall’s massive north gate. The clunk of the wooden doors shutting behind them was like the closing of a temple after a funeral service. Six the adventurers were, and animals in almost as many numbers, setting out in a small train northwest to the trailhead of the paths into the mountains on the west side of the Valley of the Spear. They were following the track as best they could from the duplicate map Lord Hardwalker had given to them just before they’d departed. It hadn’t been hard to see the tears the man was fighting back as he bid them farewell, though the tears surely had to be for his lost daughter and not for them.

The trail itself was easily found, starting under the dead branches of a single ancient oak long gone white. Gromnir solemnly inspected the tree’s base, lifted his leg, and urinated on the trunk. Then the big husky kicked with his back feet and was off a few feet down the trail ahead of the adventurers, returning to his master’s side a few minutes later, tongue lolling and clearly happy to be back out in the open again. Mundstock’s unnamed pack dog looked decidedly unimpressed by the other’s momentary frivolity.

They set a fast pace. The western mountains rose like great grey sentinels, capped with snow, under an dark-steel coloured sky, and as they moved up the temperature accordingly dropped. It didn’t take more than an hour or so for the winds to kick up, cutting into every one of the adventurers, though it also wasn’t the sort of cold they any of them were unaccustomed to either. More disturbing were the faint wisps of sound on the wind, unidentifiable, the moan which might, for a second, have been that of a child, or a man dying, but which disappeared just as quickly.

The path crossed small ridges, sneaked through short dales, and clung to wide ledges, giving stunning vistas of the valley off to the northeast. Thus far the trail had been more or less clear of snow, a light powdery dusting as deep as the white went, and there hadn’t been much in the way of loose gravel to impede them. Tough, low-lying, dark green bushes twitched and shivered in the wind on either side of the trail and clung to cliffsides around them. The valley floor itself was a white palm cupped by mountains in the northeast, though there were hints of hills and the dotting of copses down in there as well.

It was around midday that the trail grew more difficult. They were still able to hold to a fast pace, but the trail had narrowed against the mountainsides, slimming down to the width of the sled. There wasn’t a lot of room for error to the left or right, and whilst the drops off the path weren’t sheer and weren’t hundreds of feet down, it wouldn’t exactly be a fun experience falling off.

They pushed on, though, and even after midday Njal amongst the other, more seasoned travellers was fairly certain they were on target. They were making good time.

Which was then it all started to go wrong…

If you could make a Survival check, please. The DC to meet is 15, and given you’re travelling at fast pace, I think your roll is at 1d20+6 since you take a -4.

As said you’re making good time. At fast pace assuming no interruptions you should be at the Ranger Hut by late afternoon with time left in the day to spare.

In mechanical terms, you’ve lucked into a calm day. Despite the wind, the temperature is only in the Cold range (i.e. somewhere between 40 and 0 degrees F). Level 1 protection is enough to function as complete protection against the elements here, which everyone in the party has in one form or another, as do all the animals since whether native to the arctic or otherwise, they all have fur.

I will assume for convenience that Maxis has cast Endure Elements on Mundstock unless someone says otherwise – Niobaran, I assume that’s off the Wand of Endure Elements if you could mark off a charge there.

You'll also notice I put the Complication Pool counter at the dateline at the top of the post - this is so you know it's there. It's at 3 of 6 because two time parts have passed thus far.
When it hits six, the pool is rolled.

[Toliudar]

Verglas

Pulling her little wooden box along behind Ethron, Verglas was uncharacteristically silent. There wasn't much else she could do today, except hope that it didn't get TOO cold. Tomorrow, she could be ready with magics to hold the cold at bay, but today, it would just be bunding in coats and blankets at the back of a wagon, and trying not to die. She sighed faintly. Why were all the interesting places always trying to killl you?

She noticed Ethron up ahead casting a spell of some kind. No. He was signalling someone? No. He was putting on an invisible coat? No. He was just waving his arms around. Hmm.

Come to think of it, Ethron hadn't actually responded to her question about his driving. Should she be worried? Well, of course she should be worried. They were going out into a hostile wilderness in the face of a killer storm to track down two stupid adolescents. But should she be worried that they woudln't get out of the city?

[Goaty14]

Ethron

"Say Verglas, tell me something smart", Ethron called out, shifting in place. "I'm getting weary of this already..."

[Toliudar]

Vergalas

The little gnome has by now wrapped herself in her cloak, her bedroll, any other cloth that she can find in the back of the wagon, and an aura of gloom. For an Ice Gnome, she was certainly not revelling in the weather. Well, perhaps exercising her brain would keep her body warm as well.

"One of my teachers at the Mountain -"

She dropped the name of the prestigious academy of magical arts into the conversation as if it were a feather.

"- suggested that ideas are not smart or not-smart in the mouth of the speaker. Because the intention of language is to communicate something, to leave the listener changed as it were by even a trifling statement like 'it is f***ing cold out here' not necessarily in a profound way but a manner in which the pathways of thought are improved, are refined, are for lack of a better term 'smarter'. Therefore, words are not smart as they are being spoken, but rely on the mental agility and positive will of the listener to be ready to accept them, to adapt their paths of thought as it were, to become smarter. So, in nconclusion, it is impossible for me to 'tell you something smart', but only for you to 'hear something smart'. With which I wish you great success!"

She fell into silence for a moment.

"If we were to lay down something fireproof underneath, I don't suppose that it would be safe for me to build a bonfire back here in the wagon?"

Yup. Plenty smart, but a survival check of -1. :amused:

Survival: [roll0]

Edit: sorry. I didn't notice that the survival check was just for Njal. It's too bad. This might have been the only survival check she ever makes!

[DrK]

Njal

The dwarf hunkered down upon the wide back of Stormrir, occasionally trailing a hand down for the big husky to jump and lick. As the snow and wind began to pick up he pulled out a heavy set of goggles with thick lenses and donned them, pulling the hood of his snowy white bear skin hood down. Peering over his shoulder he grinned at the humans in their steel, they would not appreciate those steel coffins when the gravewind strikes...

Looking about at the pass narrowing ahead he pauses, sniffing the storm ahead....



[roll0] including the -4

[Saintheart]

Early afternoon, Day 1
Complication Pool: 3 of 6

There was a noise as of rock cracking, and localised rumble from the mountainside path below Njal's horse. The noise was loud enough to carry to the wagon some thirty feet back. Gromnir gave a whine, stopping, looking uncertain. And Njal felt it: at least part of the path below himself and his horse began to crumble, and was collapsing fast...

What do you do?

[Riggdgames]

All other thoughts are driven from Roland's mind as the sound of rending rock echoes up the trail. "Njal? Njal!"

After a moment's hesitation, Roland shrugs off his pack and fishes out a coil of silk rope. "Maxis! Bear a hand there," he says, tossing the rope into the wagon towards her feet. "Ethron! Take care the horses don't bolt!"

[Riggdgames]

Sorry for the double post.

I throw the rope towards the wagon, hoping to save someone else a bit of time while I'm stuck trying to figure out how to get around this sled. I'm not sure if this counts as a ranged touch attack or 'use rope' so I rolled both.

Ranged attack: [roll0]
Use rope: [roll1]


I assume from your description of the path that I can't get around the wagon at all on horseback, correct? Maybe by dismounting and squeezing? Or do I have to climb over and into the sled?

This all assumes forward motion of some kind. If the path continues to crumble around all of us, well, the steel makes a nice clanking noise bouncing off of rock.

[Saintheart]

Dismounting and squeezing could certainly get you past the wagon, but let's see what everyone else does first and how events follow from that...

[Toliudar]

Verglas

Surging up to the driver's seat, Verglas snatches up one end of the rope and begins tying it around the most solid-looking sticky-out thing in the wagon. She gestures forward and speaks to Ethron.

"You take the other end, no that one, of the rope and try to help Njal, and I'll, um, try to comfort the horse things."

[Niobaran]

"STOP THE WAGON!" she shouts trying to quickly get into the rear of the wagon to catch the rope thrown to her.

[Auranghzeb]

Instinctively, Mundstock accelerates on the snow and then wings appear on her back, she flies over the Dwarf and tries to grab his hand. She can't do much about the horse, but at least she could take the dwarf out of danger.

Actions: Move action forward, SWIFT: Mundstock will activate animal devotion to sprout wings. Standard or move, grab hold of the dwarf. str check [roll0]

[Goaty14]

Ethron

"Woah!" Ethron yells, pulling back on the reins as best as he could to get the horses to backtrack, looking around to see if his section of pathway were to crumble as well or not.

Handle Animal check to trot back the horses, if not stop them (with the -2 penalty):
Spot check to look for cracks underneath him: 1d20[/roll]... oops, but that's fine, guess I'll just not make a roll :p

[DrK]

Njal

Feeling the slops starting to slip Njal glances ahead looking for the path being solid once more. With a panicked "Hyah," he brings both heels down on Stormrir's flanks sending the horse surging froward into a run trying to gallop free from the slip zone, a glance over his shoulders as he sees Mudnstock swooping nearby on wings!



[roll0] if needed

[Saintheart]

Early afternoon, Day 1
Complication Pool: 3 of 6

Ethron hauled mightily on the reins of the sled-wagon. The horses screamed and reared, but did, also, stop. The noise of the collapsing path crescendoed ... but the collapse seemed to stop about five feet short of the rockslide, leaving the sled-wagon intact and level. At least for the moment.

Njal pushed his horse with a mighty effort, and Stormrir did the best he could to comply. The animal bunched its legs, preparing for a great leap forward ...

... an instant too late.

The path collapsed around its feet, and the beast lurched to its left, following the direction of the falling earth and soil, beginning to fall down the steep slope generated by the rockslide. Njal was still in the saddle ...

... until he felt a sudden, insistent tug on his shoulders, and then a lifting sensation as Mundstock caught his clothes and pulled him clear of the saddle, parting man from beast as she flew through the air.

For a second. Njal was thick, tough glacier dwarf, more than two hundred pounds even at his size. Mundstock's arms screamed, and even with the power of her abilities fuelling her, she didn't think she could hold on for longer than the second it took for them to clear the area of the rockslide and land on its far side, a good twenty, thirty feet over. Njal dropped from her arms to the ground, and Mundstock skidded to a halt beside him. She was pretty sure her back would feel that in the morning.

As the rumbling and groaning of the rockslide faded, the party had a chance to look over the situation from both sides of the rockslide.

Between Ethron and Njal's positions on either side of the rockslide, what had been a ten-foot-wide path had become five feet wide. Any of the party could make their way across, and likely the horses could be led one at a time carefully along that narrowed section, but the wagon would have to be turned on its edge and somehow pushed up that five-foot-wide path. That would likely take time and care if the party didn't want to risk a missed footstep and someone going the same way Njal's horse had gone. Alternatively, one could try a faster method by chancing getting the wagon on a crooked angle and pushing across that way, though that seemed to have the risk of further damage to the slope.

A sudden, awful screaming interrupted the party's thoughts.

It came from down the slope.

The slope created by the rockslide wasn't steep enough so as to be a sheer drop, but it was still a fairly sharp incline, not easily walked if walked at all. Thirty feet down, there was another, wider ledge that the rubble had emptied onto. Where Stormrir, Njal's horse had gone. But the horse had, strangely, awfully, survived. It lay on the ledge amongst the rubble, seemingly not covered in rock or earth, but with two legs bent at unnatural angles and cuts visible even from here. The animal's pain could be heard echoing through the mountain air as it screamed.

[Auranghzeb]

An exhausted but still winged Mundstock asked the Dwarf bluntly and cold as she drew her curved blade.


If you want I could fly down and spare the horse of its pain and suffering

[Niobaran]

Maxis

"Or we heal the horse." comes an idea from the other side of hole in the road. "I... I just don't know how to get the horse up again."

[Toliudar]

Verglas

The little gnome's heart was racing. She was cliearly impressed with Mundstock's wings trick. Something she'd have to try to learn sometime.

Not really grasping the possible emotional connection between dwarf and horse, Verglas launched into Solution Mode.

"Well we probably need either that norsey down there, or the wagon, or else we slow down too much, right?"

Saintheart, two questions that I ask because different DM's have ruled different ways...so good to check:

Do healing effects cure things like broken/shattered legs in your world? That is to say, if we heal the horse, will it be able to walk again?

Can Vergals' feather token be activated horizontally?

[Goaty14]

Ethron

Ethron sighed. He didn't care much for Stormrir - it was only a horse, and hurt horses weren't too rare from his experience. It's just that things were going oh-so smoothly and then... this. There were more important things to worry about, however, such as how Njal could have been in the same position as his horse right now, and how Ethron himself could be like that too, had his allies not been so wise as to not put him first. Is this really what these "adventurers" went through in their work? That they take on with such ease that they spared no time in recovering from nearly dying to get back to work? Truly, being an adventurer must be as bad as it sounded, and Ethron couldn't wait to be back home, sheltered by a warm fire, but... there were more pressing matters to attend to.
...
Snapping out of his thoughts, Ethron takes a moment to re-observe the scene that laid before him. As he got up and hopped off of his seat, he grabbed his 100' Silk Rope and Climber's Kit. "I have a couple of potions for healing, and this rope to haul it up the slope. After that, we'll have spent enough time idling." he says, loud enough for the others to hear. Turning to Roland, he offers a end of the rope and asks "You look strong enough. Mind helping me?"

[Riggdgames]

Roland

"Aye," Roland says, dismounting and grabbing the rope, "I don't mind helping." Without another word, Roland begins to secure one end to the wagon as a fail-safe, trusting it's weight to hold regardless of whatever else happened. Turning back to Ethron, Roland stops in his tracks at the sound of Stormrir still shrieking in pain down the slope. "Ethron," Roland starts to say, pausing to consider the problem for a moment before continuing, "it might be best if you and I stand idle just a bit longer. I don't think you or I would have much luck giving that poor wretch down there a potion. You might not get a kick for your trouble, but he's still got teeth and probably wouldn't much care for our company right about now. At best I think the snow would get most of your potion. Might be Njal could keep the beast calm enough to take it though," Roland says, looking across the gap and frowning.

It certainly was too much to hope for a day's travel without some mischief. Roland chided himself for believing it might just have been possible. His frown only deepened as he looked back and forth between the gap and the wagon, shoulders slumping as he considers just how dangerous it might be to try to get that wagon across unstable ground.

[DrK]

Njal

Njal cursed long and foully in dwarven as he rolled to his feet. Nodding thanks to Mundstock, "My thanks" he gestures down to the horse. "I'm going to breka out some rope and climb down. I'll heal my friend. Can ye unhook the other beasts and they can pull him up.." Njal gets the rope out and lashes to a stout looking rock before starting to clamber slowly down the short drop.

Reaching Stormrir he nuzzles the proud beast. "Hush now my friend. Hush now." he leans down chanelling energy of the land into the damage leg and helps Stormrir rise to his feet. Looknig up he grins, "Can you lash the rope to the other horses, they can pull us up?"


Take 10 to climb down the tethered rope
Cast cure light wounds on Stormrir [roll0]

[Riggdgames]

Roland

Roland watches Njal start to make the climb before squeezing past the wagon for a better view. At Njal's urging, he unhooks one of the horses, grasping its harness and leading it carefully over the partially collapsed section of trail. Nodding to Mundstock, he says, "I don't think we'll need both to haul them up, but might not be a bad idea to grab the other horse just in case."

Securing Njal's rope to the horse's harness, Roland calls down, "ready when you are down there!"

[Saintheart]

Early afternoon, Day 1
Complication Pool: 3 of 6

The horse made strained, agonised noises, though it did seem to appreciate Njal's presence; he'd climbed down carefully and managed to avoid sending himself to the base of the slope alongside his mount. However, his healing had only closed some of the least of its injuries; if the adventurers wanted to bring the beast back up the slope, it would take a considerable number more healing spells than a single spell to get the horse in such a state that it could be on its feet once more ... if indeed hauling an injured beast up the slope wouldn't cause it even more injury. At the other end of the rope, the other adventurers were unhitching the horses from the wagon and moving it back so they had a chance to pull.

Next to Mundstock, Gromnir paced back and forth at the top of the slope, occasionally giving an encouraging yap to his master thirty feet below.

The horse is at about 7/19 hitpoints in mechanical terms. I think it'll take the horse getting to about 11/19 hitpoints before it's really possible to try and haul it up the slope without it screaming and fightingly mightily and raising the DC of the checks involved. Speaking of:

Tying ropes securely enough to take a big load like the weight of the horse is a DC 10. It requires a Use Rope check from Njal (or whoever might be going down there to tie the ropes at that end) and a separate Use Rope check from whoever's up at the top end.

Likewise, the Handle Animal check to get the horses to pull a heavy load up the slope is also a DC 10.

You can take 10 on these checks, but if you take 10 on all the checks, it will raise the complication pool by 1 to 4 of 6. Remember that the complication pool is more an abstraction of time passing and rising danger than a minute-by-minute timekeeper; while you're out here making a recovery effort, you are basically sitting targets for anything hungry or listening for noise. Sound carries a long way in the mountains; the longer you're here, the more chance there is that something will notice your presence. Of course, if you don't take 10, it doesn't raise the complication pool, but the chance is that you fail the checks ... with problematic consequences.

[Toliudar]

Verglas

The gnome started to feel a bit of vertigo, just watching Njal sliding down that rope. Note to self: memorize Feather Fall when traveling in the mountains.[/red]

She turned to Ethron, and then gestured to the washed-away path and the horses that have been pulling the wagon.

[COLOR="#800080"]"So, uh. Given the vertigionous and potentially terrifying prospect of trying to drive a wagon across a gap, the ground of which has just proven to be more notional than actual rock, how easy do you think it would be to ride those horse things across the gap without the wagon, so we can continue that way? I mean to say, are those chairs on their backs mostly for comfort, or do they have a purpose in driving them as well?"

[Riggdgames]

Roland

Happy to hand the reins over to someone more qualified, Roland steps aside for Mundstock to take the horses and ensure they pull Njal and Stormrir back up. After taking one last look down at Njal healing his horse, Roland turns his attention back to the matter of the wagon currently sitting on the opposite side of a sizable gap in the trail. Walking across the narrow section of trail, Roland carefully inspects it for any signs that the ground is about to give way before ending up in front of three of his new companions.

"I suppose we should all be grateful we're unhurt except for Stormrir, but right now all I can think is we're stuck leaving the wagon and carrying everything on foot from here. Any idea how we'd get this wagon across as-is?" he asks, blowing out a long breath. "I'm stumped."


A tree pun because I can. If applicable, I'll roll a search check on the trail to see if there's any obvious sign it's going to give way as soon as we try hauling a wagon across.

Search: [roll0]

[Goaty14]

Ethron

Ethron looks to Verglas with a finger raised as if to say something. Closing his mouth, he can't help but look at her weirdly in awe and confusion. He replies "We can move the horses across the gap, if we're careful, yeah?". Before he does that however, he helps Roland secure the ropes - can't be too cautious up here, as he's starting to learn.

Small note that the rope is silk, and thus provides a +2 to Use Rope checks (so Roland taking 10 is a result of 14: 10 + 2 (Rope) + 2 (Dex)). Ethron is going to use Aid Another to help secure it, and roll for it because I feel lucky :smallsmile:
Use Rope: [roll0]
Edit: I am not lucky :smalleek:

[Saintheart]

Early afternoon, Day 1
Complication Pool: 3 of 6

Roland very carefully walked out what remained of the path. It seemed firm and stable enough to support the weight; he was reasonably confident that the horses could certainly be led across the narrow gap, but the wagon was simply too wide to go across without leaning it, or even turning it on its side and pushing it.

Meanwhile, the remainder of the adventurers were earnestly working on getting Njal's horse back up onto the path. It took the adventurers a few minutes to set things up, but, Njal having spent one more charge from his precious wand to knit the horse's bones back into place, they knotted and lashed and roped and finally were ready.

Mundstock breathed deeply, took one last look at the harnessing, and then began to cajole the horses forward. The Illumian could have taken a bit more time with this, but she had a feeling - one common to all of them really - that time wasn't especially a luxury they could afford right this moment. Indeed the humans had spent enough time tying, checking and rechecking the ropes. It was now or never.

The horses answered beautifully. Stormrir was still knocked around, but the horse managed to stay calm enough as they dragged the unfortunate beast back up the slope. Little bits of earth and rock tumbled away, sending hearts into mouths ... but the slope held, and the path held, and it took a few moments and Njal's horse was up at the top of the slope, and getting to its feet even as the humans moved to unlash the horse and undo it.

Now that left getting the wagon across the gap. If indeed they intended on doing that.

So with that, if you want to use the feather tree token as described, Verglas can certainly put it in the right spot ... not that she's much of a gardener and thus can't really tell where the optimum spot would be. Once it's in, though, getting the wagon across becomes a straight STR check, DC 15, with you guys pushing it across; it's not likely you could harness the horses so they could pull it across a wide, round tree trunk.

Again there is some choice here: the more people who assist in the push, the higher the STR check you make, but the more weight on the tree-bridge and the greater the odds something will go wrong. If the STR check fails, it's very likely you won't push it far enough and fast enough and the odds of the tree-bridge collapsing get a lot higher. So: assuming you're still going with the tree bridge, what do you all have in mind?

[DrK]

Njal

Njal calms Stormrir as he he clambers down the slope, pulling out the thin hickory wand to heal his friend. A couple of taps from the wand are all that it takes for the bones of the horse to knit together before they rope the horse back up the slope, Njal calming him on the way up. "Nasty business that. Lets hope the same thing didn't take the Greatcats"

[Riggdgames]

Roland


"I suppose we should all be grateful we're unhurt except for Stormrir, but right now all I can think is we're stuck leaving the wagon and carrying everything on foot from here. Any idea how we'd get this wagon across as-is?" he asks, blowing out a long breath. "I'm stumped."

Roland stops in his tracks, hand halfway to his waterskin as the gears slowly turn in his head. A thought taunts him like a word on the tip of his tongue. Squeezing his eyes shut, Roland blocks out everything else trying to find that slippery thought, but to no avail. Was it something he said? Something someone else said? What? Unbidden, a verse he'd once heard in Windspire popped into Roland's head.

Faith is the fire that burns in all of us
Warming us even on the coldest of nights
But in a never-ending battle with frost and snow
The Wild Man's trees aid his mother in the fight

No spark of fire nor...

"Stumped," Roland breathed, shaking his head as he reached into his belt pouch and pulled out a small feather, staring at it. He looked over to the gap in the trail and his lip curled. "Uhh, lads? And ladies...I think I have an idea. Clear the gap," he says. Without further thought and firmly believing the Firekeeper is guiding his hand, Roland brings the feather over to the collapsed area and takes a moment to find the best looking spot to make a bridge. He activates the feather token.

[Saintheart]

Early afternoon, Day 1
Complication Pool: 3 of 6

A moment's silence, a whisper of something unseen.

Then a roll of muted thunder, a crackling from the slope, the smallest glimpse of a green shoot, and decades of time passing in the blink of an eye. The oak took root in the slope, roots digging into the earth, and the trunk of the great tree erupted horizontally, leaves and branches exploding like green fingers, emerald against the grey and white of the slope. The tree reached the other side of the gap, and there seemed to stop, pebbles and a vast spray of dust going up as the oak tree completed its growth, bridging the gap efficiently.

It wasn't exactly one of the graceful bowstring arch spans across the canyon which formed the city of Hartstone, but it certainly had been placed well for something large to be pushed across it. As far as Roland could see the rootball seemed to be stable enough, and the far end of the tree looked to be resting securely on the other side. Whether it was going to hold under a substantial weight was at least partially in the forge of the Firekeeper.

[Toliudar]

Verglas

The little gnome watched intently as Roland executed his plan. Although she'd carried a very similar object around in an inside pocket for more than two years now, she'd never actually seen one used. It was....impressiive.

"Well done, sir, and ingenious, if we're able to keep one runner on the tree and one on the remains of the path, it should be an easy by which I mean harrowingly dangerous but ideally not omnicidal process to push pull and drag the wagon over."

Verglas hopped out of the back of the wagon, and tried to figure out if there was any place where two stubby legs and two nimble but not strong hands could actually assist in maneuvering the wagon on its course.

Looking for a way to Aid Another: [roll0]

[Saintheart]

Early afternoon, Day 1
Complication Pool: 3 of 6

It occurred to Verglas that her stature wasn't exactly going to be much help at the back of the wagon, but it could be of some use at the front. Once the sled-wagon got moving, the trick would be to guide the left-hand runner so it didn't run into small branches or twigs on the trunk. She could do something along those lines if she moved ahead of the runner and gave it an appropriate tap or shove to keep it from hitting an obstacle.

Of course, if she did that she'd have to hope that the tree-bridge didn't collapse or something else didn't happen, because in that position if the wagon went down she was definitely going with it, but it was a chance to be useful while the more carrot-shaped types got busy showing off their muscles. If indeed they still made carrots out this way anymore.

There's a +2 to the STR roll for you, if Verglas does this.

[Toliudar]

Verglas

The gnome reconsiders, and clambers back into the wagon. She turns to Roland and Ethron, both of which clearly understood these horse things better than she did.

"I'm sure that you lot have everything in hand being all woodsy and snowy type people, is it appropriate to call two people folk? Does folk only refer to a larger group, or could a person be a folk? I was never clear about that. Also not clear whether folk is universally pejorative or may be embraced by an individual as a means of self-classification. Regardless, my point is of course that you are horse folk and I am not but I'm assuming that you might need to be out in front of those horse things, pulling and I don't know feeding them apples or something. Whereas I am small and light and while I wasn't really planning on toppling off of mountain pass to what may or may not be certain death when I got up yesterday, it at least has the charm of being over relatively quickly, being visually stunning and saving my family signifiant funereal expenses.

"In short, do you want me to drive?"

Saintheart, I could kiss you for that inspiration.

[Riggdgames]

Roland blushes at Verglas' words, pleased that any action of his could be called ingenious by someone so obviously his intellectual superior. He is left feeling decidedly dumb as he puzzles over a response, and dumber still as the small gnome opens her mouth once more.

A response to the question of what constitutes a folk bubbles to the surface, only to be tossed aside as the more pressing concerns of the moment override all else. Roland wasn't sure he would ever be able to follow a conversation with the Gnomish woman, but her spirit was plain enough to see. Still, what of her safety?

"Verglas, err, perhaps it would be better if..."

The protests died on his lips. They had to keep as much weight off the crumbling ground and their tree bridge as possible, and to look at her, the small Verglas couldn't have weighed much more than his hammer. Besides, he would be blind while pushing. Someone did need to keep them on the right path, lest he push the very wagon they wanted to hold onto right off the side of the mountain.

Roland's shoulders sag a bit as he gives her a resigned grin. "I trust you'll keep us on the right path Verglas. I've no desire to see the view from anywhere lower on the mountainside. As for the horses, I think they'll be better suited to the nice, even ground on the other side of our tree."

Turning to Ethron, Roland claps him on the shoulder with a heavy, gauntleted hand. "Just between us horse-folk, it's probably best if you wait with the others on the far side. I should be able to get this old boat moving by myself. And if something happens, someone's got to be left up there who can come down and save my ***." Roland strides over to his horse, grabbing Ember's reins and handing them to Ethron. "We'll be right behind you."

Walking over to the wagon and leaning heavily on the back end, Roland takes a few deep breaths, waiting for the other to cross the bridge. "What do you say Verglas? Ready up front?" Roland asks. A few butterflies churn in his stomach as he tries not to think about all the things that could go wrong. "On three! One, two, three!" Grunting audibly, he puts his shoulder into the wagon and starts slowly rumbling forward.


Strength check with Verglas assisting: [roll0]

Edit: That is unfortunate.

[Saintheart]

Early afternoon, Day 1
Complication Pool: 3 of 6

Roland put his full weight into the push, and with Verglas at the front clearing small obstacles, the wagon rumble-slid wonkily over the gap, and up to the point where the wagon was about ten feet from the far end of the gap, it looked as though they were going to make it.

But they had taken just a tad too long, just a tad not fast enough. And as the wagon slid to the ten foot mark from the far end, there was a crack from the rootball end of the gap. With a sudden, groaning lurch, the tree bridge began to come loose at the back end, and the wagon began to yaw to the left, roll the same way, and pitch back in Roland's direction, its weight suddenly much greater on the big man ...

What do you do?

[Riggdgames]

Roland

"Verglas! Get away from the wagon!" Roland's first instinct is to hold on and try to save the wagon, but an instant later he realizes it would be folly. He tries push off of it even as it pitches back towards him, leaping back and away towards whatever remains of the half-crumbled mountain trail.


Jump (if it's appropriate): [roll0]

If able I pull out my ice axe and jam its point into the ground to try to stay planted on whatever remains of the trail.

[DrK]

Njal

THe dwarf looks at the attempt to cross the now impressive tree bridge and waits patiently, a hand resting on the horses flank to keep him calm. As the tree creaks and cracks he darts forward, throwing out the rope that he still had in his hands from pulling up the horse. He hurls it towars Roland and the gnome cursing as the wagon looks like its about to tumble downwards

[Toliudar]

Verglas

As the wagon began to pitch her off to the left into the abyss, Verglas grimaced. She had spent a long time designing that box and getting it just right, and now it was going to end up in a heap of splinters at the bottom of this stupid mountain. Also, she might die. But mostly, the box.

With a petulant tone, she gestured and mouthed two words of power. There were times when her obsession with the elves of old got her into trouble, and times when it was the Father's greatest blessing to her. Because, say what you would about their ancient oppressors, they had style.

In an instant, she doubled in height. Around the straps of her pack, a pair of magnificent white wings sprouted, unfurled and caught the violent updraft pitching up the mountain. It took Verglas a moment to stabilize, well away from the slipping wagon.

Sorry, box.

Standard action to cast Alter Self into an Avariel elf.She really does specialize in ancient elven lore!

Move action, get the heck away from the wagon.

[Saintheart]

That'll need a Concentration check - DC 11, 10 for the motion, 1 for the level of the spell.

Assuming this check comes off (which it will absent a natural 1), people, then Verglas will certainly make it to the other side of the gap without a problem. One point, though, if it's of interest - whilst the avariel might be a relatively rare subspecies of elf, there is enough general familiarity from history (and indeed horror stories told around fires in Horizon's halls and holds) for people to realise that Verglas has assumed the form of one of humanity's hated oppressors. There might not be specific familiarity with the subspecies, but avariel are elven enough that they're recognisably elven in features.

Your characters' reactions of course are completely a matter for you, but there might be any range of reactions from disquiet (for those who've most been trained or been around magic) to disgust. (Or indeed it could be just indifference or no reaction at all - again, your reactions are up to you/your characters.) An analogue might be one's reaction to seeing someone who's turned themselves into a living, breathing copy of a certain well-known political tyrant of history. Or another reaction might be your character considering invoking elven forms, tricks, or so on as invoking bad luck, something that needs the placation of the spirits, or even the gods themselves, a little like someone making the gesture of the evil eye in our own world. Or tossing salt over your shoulder after you've spilled it, or refusing to light three candles from one match - superstitions in our world have a stronger intensity in Horizon if only because the power of the gods and spirits is evident rather than supposed.

[Toliudar]

Verglas Concentration: [roll0]

Also, here's Verglas, smiling beatifically as she floats off of the wagon:

https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/villains/images/d/da/AdolfhitlerJOJO.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20200211152731

[Saintheart]

Early afternoon, Day 1
Complication Pool: 3 of 6

Verglas landed lightly on the far side of the gap, winged and terrible. Roland's journey was more precarious; he leapt clear of the lurching wagon, pulling his ice axe and smashing it into a temporarily-stable-looking cleft of rock. He nearly pulled his arm from its socket as the axe dug in and held, his whole weight on it - but Njal's rope dropped next to him a second later, leaving him a simple path up, assisted by the adventurers on that side of the gap.

The tree-bridge gave way, the oak tearing loose of its moorings and commencing the long roll down the slope. The wagon preceded it, pinwheeling like a dying beetle, bits and pieces flying from it in seven different directions. The noise of it crunching down the slope ricocheted off the nearest slopes, a cacophony of crashes, bangs, and bongs. Finally, the half-smashed wagon hit the bottom of the slope.

Where the oak's trunk found it. There was a final, apocalyptic crunch as the wagon smashed under tons of wooden weight, and then only the echo of the noise and the cloud of dust whipped up in its ruin.

Roland and Verglas are safe, but the wagon is pretty much beyond repair. However, some individual items stored in the wagon might have survived. You could make your way down (taking 10 on Climb checks) to recover what was in it, but that will involve some time passing, which in turn would raise the Complication Pool to 4 of 6.

[Auranghzeb]

Mundstock

The pain of her kin was transmitted throughout generations.

Elves, the torturers.

Not even the practicality of flying justified it.

She looked at the gnome with disdain, but didn't say anything. She was worried for all the time lost saving the wagon.

[Riggdgames]

Roland

Roland groans painfully as he reaches for the rope, pulling himself towards Njal as quickly as his arms can bear before the trail collapses further. He claps the dwarf on the shoulder breathlessly, nodding in thanks, though he can't quite manage words yet as he gasps for air. Roland drops his hands to his knees, trying to steady shaky legs. His shoulder was on fire, his head was pounding, and he'd just caused their supplies to rain down the mountainside, but Roland still found the time to grimace at Verglas' appearance.

His heart had been in his throat moments before, not just due to his predicament but Verglas' as well. If you'd asked him what he'd do to make sure she could escape unscathed, he would've been hard pressed to come up with anything he wouldn't do. But then, Roland couldn't make someone appear to be an elf either. All of his attempts to learn how to become a cleric had met with disastrous results, and he wasn't even sure that was something a cleric would know how to do. With another groan, he rises to his full height and strips off his cloak.

"Caileag," Roland started, forgetting himself. "Verglas...cover yourself," he says, stepping between Verglas and the others and holding up his cloak to hide her like you might a woman with a compromising lack of clothing. "You're indecent. Best change out of that skin. Please," Roland said, his tone contradicting the polite nature of his request.

Silently Roland mouthed a prayer to the Firekeeper to continue keeping him safe, to keep them both safe, and to ward off evil. And if She should happen to have a few more moments to spare, could the Red Lady also lend Verglas her guiding light so that the gnome might have the sense to change back into her skin and stay that way?

[Niobaran]

Maxis

When the wagon falls down, she wants to curse loudly, as its loss would slow them down, and on top of that, had still carried some of her gear. But then, she witnesses the transformation of the gnome into what she has learned to hate from the beginning of her life. First from the stories told to children, later in history lessons, and finally in the lore training for her career as a Firemaiden. She had been open towards Verglas from the beginning, even if others might have had their prejudices towards her. But this... choosing the embodiment of the very creatures who had hurt the Firekeeper herself... who had shoved this world into darkness. The slavers of humans and other creatures alike. This was...

"...blasphemy! An insult to the Gods and ourselves!". When Roland steps between them, she had already taken a few steps towards the winged creature, the big warhammer in both hands, apparently ready to strike. "Abandon this form, NOW!" A non-verbal "or else" is in the air.

Roland is still in between them, but judging her fiery glance, she might not shy away from just hammering her way towards Verglas if required.

[Toliudar]

Verglas

The gnome's head whips around. Her eyebrow is not so much arched as alpine. Verglas alights gently on the far side of the gap and quickly, if awkwardly, dumps out the contents of her backpack in the snow.

"Why yes, I am alive. Thanks so much for your concern. I'm jost going to go see if I can go gather some of our life-saving supplies from the twisted wreckage below, and then perhaps we can use some of the wood that we recover to build a bonfire that you can then use to burn me as a witch. I'm sure that it will be heart-warming, cathartic and festive for all of you."

She soars down towards the remains of the wagon.

Verglas only has about 15 pounds of carrying capacity, even with an empty backpack, so this could take a few trips.

[Riggdgames]

Roland

Roland's shoulders slump as Verglas makes her remarks and flies off in her new skin. Seems the Firekeeper was busy elsewhere today. Roland's head hurt and grinding his teeth together didn't seem to be helping any. He throws his cloak over his shoulder and turns to Maxis.

"Easy there, lass. Easy," Roland says, holding his hands out in front of him, palms out. "That's the wrong tool for the job if I've ever seen one. A hammer's for pounding good iron and bad people. If you want to hit something, I understand. If you want to punish her, I get that too; the gods know my ancestors slaved in the fields back when the world was still green. But that child down there," Roland continues, pointing to where Verglas is floating down to the wreckage, "she's not one of the Oppressors. She's just a stupid little girl dressed up like one. Firekeeper help me, my brothers and I used to play 'Heroes and Elves' back when we were knee-high and didn't know any better. That's all she is Maxis. A fool-child that doesn't know any better." Roland takes half a step closer, eyebrows raised as he looks for any sign that his words are having an impact.

"Maybe we could teach her, yeah? You and me? With words, I mean. I've known some folk to respond better to words than hammers," Roland says, forcing a tight half-smile. “In the meantime, what say we grab whatever’s left of that gear I dumped all over the mountain? When it starts getting cold later tonight, might be you’d rather hit me with that hammer than her.”

[Niobaran]

Roland's step towards her is met by one step of her into his direction. She clearly listens to what he says, but apparently it makes her rather more furious.

"A little girl? Have you even heard what she just said? Those were not the words of a child, that was mockery! Stop belittling those around you, neither is she a dumb child nor am I one to believe it! If you have any honor stop making up excuses for her." She takes a deep breathe. "I respect her power, but I do not tolerate such blasphemy. If it costs me a warm night, then I'm ready to take this challenge." Another deep breathe, as if she actively needs to control herself. "I am not stupid enough to attack her, as it might take two of the list of Lyssa's protectors. My word weighs stronger than my sensitivities."

She averts from, takes off her backpack and rummages shortly, bringing forth block and tackle. "Njal, you look stubborn enough to hold this in position."

[Riggdgames]

Roland

Roland bites back his own mounting fury as Maxis questions both his honor and his intentions. Unable to let it lie there, he responds slowly, trying hard to keep his voice controlled and even.

"Aye. You may be right Maxis. Maybe I'm excusing her blasphemy and her mockery. Maybe the gnome is aware of the pain she causes and chooses to twist the knife anyway. Maybe she is all that you say and more. I don't know if you're right about her, but I do know you're right about one thing. We need each other if we're going to find Lyssa. I may not have given Lord Hardwalker my 'word' that I'd find his daughter without regard for whether I could promise such a thing, but I will certainly try as long as I draw breath and there is hope that she lives."

Roland tries to allow things to settle there, grabbing his rope and securing one end to Ember before walking down the slope with the other end.

[Saintheart]

Twilight, Day 1
Complication Dice: 5 of 6

It had taken a good hour or so for the adventurers to find all that could be salvaged from the wreck of the wagon and then turn back to the mountain trail, leading their horses across the gap and then resuming their course.

The ruin of the wagon and the loss of a good portion of their gear was not something easily forgotten. Now Mundstock was truly on foot, albeit she used skis to their best advantage. And they’d certainly lost potions and some portion of their food as well, as well as other useful items. The brief flare-up between Verglas, Maxis and Roland didn’t recur, though; even so, it was a quiet journey onward into the mountains.

For a miracle, they didn’t run into any opposition. Njal had come across the old tracks of verbeeg once, and they had seen a flock of ravens which were too large for the distance they seemed to be at … but, fortunately, the gigantic birds had other business on their minds, and nothing confronted them.

Even so, the loss of time weighed heavy. The sun was sinking into the west, and the first finders of night cold were beginning to caress their faces. After what seemed an endless hike along sharp trails and down precarious paths, their way finally dipped into a narrow dell, a cleft below a vast overhang of rock. And at last, turning around a bend in the road, they saw it, a hundred feet ahead (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B92P1-OUNJo).


https://images2.imgbox.com/7b/58/cYwCcDei_o.png


It was something more than a ranger’s hut; even from the distance it had been built with a high-arched roof to throw off the snow, and it was more the size of a small family’s home. There was a hint of a stable behind the main structure of the house, likely enough to keep their mounts and companions in relative comfort. The roof seemed intact and well-made from here, and the place appeared to be in good condition despite being apparently abandoned for a long time.

Indeed, that was the troubling thing. The place seemed to be maintained. As if it were inhabited.
The primary evidence for that supposition being the sign of a flickering light present in the window to the left of the front door.

What do you do? You’re a hundred feet out from the structure.

[Toliudar]

Verglas

Aware that she was on both literal and metaphorical shaky ground, Verglas was uncharacteristically silent for the next leg of the trip. She found a way to wedge herself in uncomfortably behind someone's saddle, and endeavoured to make herself as un-troublesome as possible.

As the group paused outside the hunter's cottage, she observed the light in the window but the absence of smoke from a chimney, and didn't know what to make of the combination.

[DrK]

Njal

Riding on his happily healed horse Njal lets the others chat amongst him, a wary eye on the gnome. Her transformation hadn't offended him as much as some of the others, she were still a gnome not one of the hated ones bit it was a form in poor taste. He pulls up on the slope overlooking the rangers hut. "That could be a good sign eh? A light on for a weary traveller."

He hops down from the horse landing in a flurry of snow. "You want me and the dog to head up ahead and see what we can see? See if the boy here can smell any great cats?"

[Goaty14]

Ethron

Distraught by the loss of his wagon and the "much needed" supplies (despite not knowing what he truly needs), Ethron began to doubt if they really could accomplish this mission, and if he'd ever see home again, but with the ranger hut on the horizon, there were other matters to contend with. Looking to the others, he replied "I would rather knock first. If it can light a candle it can answer a door, and that's civilized enough for me, I think."

[Riggdgames]

Roland

As the others come to a stop one by one where the trail opens up, Roland guides Ember between them and looks at the others. Even though the window is lit like a beacon in the twighlight, Roland completely misses it at first. "What do you mean? What's going on?" Roland stares at Ethron and Njal before finally turning to follow their gaze. "Oh."

Finally taking in the light, Roland doesn't quite recognize just how well-kept the place appears compared to what his expectation should be. Either way he's puzzled, wondering what could have made Lyssa stay so close to Hardwalker Hold. "Maybe she's here," he offers without much conviction. "No doubt if she is, six people wandering out of the snow at the same time is liable to spook her. Might be best if just one us does the knocking, but I wouldn't mind knowing what's in that stable back there first. A couple great cats, half a dozen horses, or naught but snow makes a difference," Roland says, looking back and forth between Ethron and Njal.

[DrK]

Njal

The druid looks at Roland and nods. "Aye lad. I ain't the most welcoming. Me and the mutt will head round the back. Let one of ye charming lads head to the door. Holler if ye get into bother." He lets out a low whistle and Gromnir bounds over to him. With a hand on the dog's furry head Njal stomps off through the thick snow heading around the back of the small hut looking for signs of tracks, animals or "beasts" in the stables or in the surrounding woods



Spot / Listen [roll0] / [roll1]
Survival [roll2]

+ Scent from Gromnir

[Saintheart]

Twilight, Day 1
Complication Dice: 5 of 6

As he moved around the side of the building and to the rear, Njal had been expecting Gromnir to start growling. Or snarl. Or otherwise give some sort of indication that there was something wrong. But the big husky didn't. Quite the opposite. The dog had taken a few moments to tap his nose in the way dogs did when smelling something at the corner of the building, but, seemingly satisfied, had then moved right on, nonchalantly trotting around the back of the building with barely a look back.

Indeed, as Njal turned the rear corner himself, Gromnir was standing, tongue lolling, at the entrance to the building they'd suspected were stables. And indeed they were stables; solid, well-built ones, the timbers fine and the craftsmanship of the sort built to stand up to the weight of snow and the relentless pull and push of snow and ice. The stables were empty, but they'd been built to keep their door out of the prevailing wind, and there was certainly enough room for the adventurers' three horses and their dogs besides. They'd be well protected from the cold here.

Satisfied nothing was going to try and accost him at least for the moment, Njal turned his attention to the ground. There was no sign of any large, four-legged animal here recently, but there were a decent amount of tracks trundling between the stable and indeed the house itself. There was a rear door to the place, too, and the way the tracks looked it seemed a good number of two-legged creatures had been coming and going. The spread of the prints was a bit odd; as a dwarf he knew he didn't have a long stride himself, but these prints were closer still, as if a fair number of small individuals, even smaller than Verglas's gnomish stature, were walking around here. The feet, too, were small; and they had a light tread from what he could see, as if the owner of the tracks moved light on his feet. It seemed to be a regular print; no sign of clawed toes or rear talons.

And Njal had a certain sensation moving over him. Had been, since he'd crossed to a good fifty feet from the house. It was a feeling of rightness. Like the feeling you had in a warm fur coat that fully kept out the cold, but didn't overheat you. Or the 'ah' feeling one had when you first walked into a room with an open fireplace from a bitter cold day outside.

[Riggdgames]

Roland

Watching Njal disappear around the side of the hut, Roland pulls his cloak tighter around his shoulders as the wind picks up for a moment. Glancing at the others, he clears his throat. "A bit cold to be standing out here waiting while whoever's in there is tucked away inside. You're right Ethron. I suppose no matter who it is, they'll know how to answer a door, friendly or no. Besides, it's been a long day. We could all use the comfort of four walls and a warm fire."

Looking around for confirmation, Roland turns back to Verglas before looking over to Ethron, Mundstock, and letting his eyes settle on Maxis. "Let's go have a closer look, shall we?"

[Niobaran]

Maxis nods, "Let's do it."and walks towards the entrance with whoever wants to come.

[Riggdgames]

Roland keeps an eye out for Njal, removing his helmet and carrying it under his arm as they walk up to the front door. Looking for any sign that someone might be watching them from inside, Roland hesitates just a moment before knocking.


Rolls if they're relevant.

Spot: [roll0]
Listen: [roll1]

[Toliudar]

Verglas

Whether she feels she can contribute or is just trying to get in out of the cold faster, Verglas slide/falls off of Roland's horse and plows through the snow toward the door with her companions.

[Niobaran]

Maxis

Seeing Roland hesitate, she also waits for a moment. Maybe he had heard something? Unless anyone hears something, she knocks.


[roll0]

[Saintheart]

Twilight, Day 1
Complication Dice: 5 of 6

A wonderful feeling washed over Maxis as she crossed within fifty feet of the front door. It was a sense of rightness, a feeling not unlike that which she felt when in one of the Firekeeper's own temples, with the icons of fire and the forge all about. A sense of homecoming and warmth. And it was a feeling that sparked a recollection in her mind, though she couldn't place her finger on it right this moment...

There was a good feeling that came over Roland as he crossed over a threshold maybe fifty feet from the front door. It was akin to the first feeling he'd had when he believed the Firekeeper was calling him to become a cleric, even if that feeling ended in a certain sense of sadness some years later and the path of the crusader. A feeling like those one associated with warm clothes, and friendly taverns.

There wasn't any answer to the knock for a moment, and their approach to the door hadn't been marked by any noise or any movement they could see at the frost-touched windows. But then the door swung wide, revealing a room beyond solid and well-kept.

There were three little figures standing a foot or two inside the door. They didn't appear to have actually opened it. Dressed in rags, they seemed to be small, hairy men with thick beards and sooty skins. Not one of them was more than two feet tall, making Verglas feel gigantic for once in her life; Njal perhaps could have matched their beards, but he too would have been larger than them. There was a little glint of fire in their eyes for a second, but then the middle one, seemingly the eldest with wisps of white in his black beard, opened his arms wide. He smiled, his voice deep and his Common accented. "Yak czhe pani chuey! You comink in! Velcome!"

Recognition poured over the two devotees of the Firekeeper, even if the first phrase wasn't familiar to either of them. There was no enemy here. These little men were a people known and fondly regarded by the Firekeeper's clergy. They were referred to by many names, the most common in church being the candle-men, "the sparks of the Lady's Hearth", but the name these little spirit-men referred to themselves as was domovoi, keepers of the flame. They were nocturnal house spirits, protectors of creatures that depended on hearth and fire to live in cold areas. While a domovoi watched over an encampment or a house, fires were a little warmer, illumination was just that tiny bit stronger, and creatures of the cold and night were less likely to strike. That said, they weren't worshippers of the Lady per se - merely their bent and their natural inclinations strongly aligned with the Firekeeper's own.

Ah. Domovoi. That was a pleasant surprise out here, and it went a long way towards explaining why the "abandoned" ranger's hut hadn't succumbed to the elements in the interim. Domovoi tended to move into abandoned ruins or campsites and maintained them as their own until the hunters or rangers returned. All it took to keep a domovoi happy was an offering of firewood or grain, which they seemed to actually enjoy as a snack according to all the stories.

Some vague memory went through Verglas's mind of 'little grey men' who liked to tend fires, but otherwise this was one of the few times something friendly and smaller than her had said hello.

The guardsman was startled. Just as there were horror stories about elves told around campfires, there were just as many stories of helpful (and sometimes mischievous) creatures known as Sooties told in taverns: stories of how a hungry traveller would, in desperation, leave half of the last of his firewood outside his cold, drafty shelter as an offering ... only to find that when he awoke, his fire was burning brighter than it normally would, the offering gone, and little footprints in the snow going to and from. And the stories of how one sometimes caught sight of them, little soot-covered men with black beards and little hints of fire in their eyes.

[DrK]

Njal

Njal paused and looked around the stables and then smiled as the feeling of rightness washed over him. He looked in the stables to make sure there was sufficient space for their mounts and the doors and the feed stations were in place. After checking the stables he slogged through the snow back to the front of the house and saw the door open and the small bearded creatures within the ranger abode. Grinning nodded to the others, "Aye ye be safe here. I'll see to the beasts, then join you inside."

Taking the bridles of the horses he leads the collection of horses back to the stables, the darkness not an issue for him, as he saw that each horse was safely stashed in the stables, shared hay from his saddlebags between them and topped up their water buckets.

[Riggdgames]

Roland

Road-weary and cold, Roland couldn't explain how he'd come to feel lighter on his feet. It was as if the clock had wound backwards as he stepped forward, the weight of countless experiences over a decade seemingly rolling off his shoulders. All the doors that had closed to him over the years melted away as he felt a spark, a whisper from Her just like the one he'd felt all those years ago when he knew he would be a cleric someday. As the feeling persisted, a new door opened.

It was without reservation that Roland beamed down on the three figures, thanking them for their hospitality. "We would be honored, thank you! It is getting colder out here, but I can see you three have that well in-hand in there," Roland says, smiling brightly. He steps out of the way and tries to usher the others inside with a word of encouragement as Njal comes around.

Before Roland can think to hand her reins over, Ember pulls away to approach the dwarf. "She doesn't usually take to strangers quite so fast," Roland says to Njal. "Thank you. I'll find out what the food situation is and see about heating up some grub." Turning back, Roland steps inside.

[Niobaran]

Maxis

Seeing the Domovoi puts a big smile on her face. She slightly bows, not lacking respect even though they are so small.

"Greetings, Keepers! I gladly accept your invitation." Once allowed, she steps inside, looking for the first opportunity to get out of her snowy boots.

[Toliudar]

Verglas

Emboldened by the others seeming to relax at the sight of the dirty little men, Verglas simply darts inside and looks for a warm spot - a fireside, a blanket, something.

[Saintheart]

Twilight, Day 1
Complication Dice: 5 of 6

There was no difficulty in finding warm places. Though some of the domovoi choices in furnishing did seem a little odd -- a table and chairs had been upended and placed carefully in an impressive-looking tower, and several ancient-looking plates were balanced in an anxiety-inducing house of cards -- the large room glowed with warmth, as did the three individual bedrooms just off the main commons. The floors had been wiped clean, and there wasn't a single spiderweb in any crack. Whatever the sooty look of their hosts' clothes, not one speck of dust appeared on the floor; and there seemed to be far too many candles and too large a fireplace to explain how there had only been a faint-ish glow visible from outside, nor a lack of any actual smoke from the chimney.

Maxis's boots were thick with snow when she took them off. But when she looked at them a few moments later, they were sitting completely clean and neatly set out by the door, a grey-bearded domovoi whistling as he dusted his tiny hands off and walked away from them.

There also turned out to be more of the domovoi inside the house. Roland counted eight of them, if indeed he hadn't counted twice given how similar some of the "male" domovoi seemed to be. They didn't seem to actually walk between places; you just turned around and the one you'd seen in front of you would be sitting on a shelf nearby. Or fossicking under a table.

The one who welcomed them in called himself Stavro. Although most of the adventurers had the feeling that was more for their convenience than because he actually had a name. In any event, after they had come in and looked around and realised how inviting and pleasant the warmth and the light of the room was, Stavro eventually wandered over to them, absently chewing a thin, red stick of kindling. Small chips of red escaped his mouth and fell, though they never seemed to reach the floor or lodge in his beard. "So! You velcome here, trav'lirs. Long time no visits here. You kno if ranger Vindarek, he komm back soon?"

The name - if it was a name - wasn't familiar to any of the adventurers.

[Riggdgames]

Roland

Roland very much wanted to lie down, just for a minute, just to see how it would feel, but from years of experience he knew how hard it would be to pick himself back up if he did so. Instead he started peeling off layers of armor, the cold steel like ice to the touch, but warming quickly in the cozy outpost. The clank of metal did an admirable job of hiding the grumbling in his stomach, but only temporarily.

At the Candle-man's question, Roland could only shake his head. "'fraid I don't know, Stavro. Never heard the name before. Any of you?" Roland asks the rest, grabbing a piece of jerky to munch on as he pulls out a few other ingredients for a stew. "Was he stationed out here?"

The question seems to break Roland out of a fog as he starts to look around with fresh eyes. "Come to think of it, are all of you? No," he says, thinking aloud, "no, that can't be. Lord Hardwalker would've mentioned you were here. Besides-which, can't imagine what you folk would have to gain serving him. What brought you out here then? Was it this ranger, Vindarek?" Laughing aloud at himself, Roland shakes his head and holds up his hands. "Begging your pardon, Stavro, you opened the floodgates now and I've got too many questions. We're actually out here looking for Lord Hardwalker's kin. Do you know of the Lady Lyssa, his daughter? Has she passed this way, by chance?"

[Saintheart]

Twilight, Day 1
Complication Dice: 5 of 6

Stavro shook his head. More little bits of wood shaving fell from his lips and never reached the floor. "No lady komm this vay for season on season. Last man here ranger Vindarek. He save son, brother, from icevulf," and the domovoi gestured to two more of his companions, who didn't look any younger than Stavro himself. "Ve promiss to pay life debt to him. Can give vunce only, he ask us care for thiss place. So ve do. He leaf somm small tings for ven he comm back. Say he muss meet wi' a Hardwalker lord." Stavro scratched himself. "Don' tink was dis Lady Hardwalker, tho. Time ... diff'rnt for domovoi. Vindarek call him Lord Yarland."

Ethron at least recognised the name from the stories and history he knew from his former life. Yarland Hardwalker was Lord Rowan Hardwalker's grandfather, long dead at least sixty years. Yarland's son, Breland, had been dispossessed of the Hall by order of the Highmark's king, and Rowan had only recently won the title and the demesne back.

Stavro shrugged. "But he nev'r comm back. Ve stay. Is good home for domovoi. Ve raise family. Not of'n haf raidings here. More lately, tho. More icevulf in hills, stalkink round housse. You komm, stay night. Not safe for mens in mountains at night."

[Goaty14]

Ethron

Following the others inside, Ethron had been rather surprised of the housekeeping and maintenance that these little people had of this place - these weren't any snarling beasts or tricking fey (at least, he hoped it wasn't the latter), just a bunch of... honest folk, but tiny? An acceptable discovery, he figured, and Ethron certainly would rather risk it with these guys than the... "icevulfs" supposedly outside. At the little man's response, Ethron noted "I wouldn't want this 'Vindarek' to come back myself... surely it has been nearly one-hundred years since, and a live Vindarek would be nothing short of an abomination by now!"
...
"So, either way we're staying here, thanks to the kind welcoming of these people. Where should we unpack? Can we bring the horses inside, or will they be safe in the stables from the 'icevulfs'?" He asks in speed, hoping to have reason to be outside as little as possible with wild wolves out and about! He doesn't ask nearly as much as Verglas would, but he still sounds quite eager to get unpacked and bar the door whenever possible.

Ethron would also ask who would keep watch for monsters overnight, buuut
1: He's scared of the responsibility being placed upon him (which runs the risk of him succeeding/making another terrible mistake, which could run for character development)
2: These people have gotten along well so far, so maybe they don't need an adventurer guard...?

[DrK]

Njal

Reaching the door Njal's eyes widen in surprise as he see's the tony fey like creatures. "Domovoi, we are blessed." He glances at the rest of his companion. "I guess there is nae wee girl here then? No sign of cats in the stables."

Seeing the roaring fire he walks across to it, gratefully holding out his hands to warm them after the day of hard riding and the avalanche. "It seems we'll have to be pressing on then to the end of the valley. Catch wee girl at the neck if storms don't get her."

[Niobaran]

Maxis

The warmth and the company of these creatures clearly help to make Maxis comfortable. She is only half-focused on what the Domovoi have to say, and it feels more like a dream then anything. When the life-debt is mentioned, she starts to follow it more closely again, and when the others have posed their questions, another comes in her mind.

"What things did he leave here?"

[Riggdgames]

Roland

Roland pays close attention as Stravro reveals how his family came to owe Vindarek a life-debt and settled here as a result. As the others start to question him further, Roland's stomach grumbles audibly. In response to Ethron's question, he starts to unpack his own things off to the side of the door they came through, searching for his iron pot. He tries to keep his things orderly, but soon he's got a pile of gear to rival one the Domovoi's furniture towers.

"Where in Her name did I put the damned thing," Roland mutters under his breath, trying to keep one ear on the conversation even as he's preoccupied with dinner. Then he finally realizes. His iron pot is back in the snow, lost on the mountainside with a thousand pieces of wagon to keep it company. Trying to think back, Roland can't remember a single story about Domovoi that also talked about food. What if they didn't have one? As he stares down sadly at a small pile of stunted onions, carrots, and potatoes, Roland just catches Maxis' question.


"What things did he leave here?"

"Did he leave a pot?" he asks, freezing for a moment as the question hangs in the air. "Or, uh, anything more important?"

[Saintheart]

Twilight, Day 1
Complication Dice: 5 of 6

"Yoor horses stay in stable," said Stavro to Ethron, frowning in a way that would have looked more severe if it wasn't coming from someone two feet tall. "Komink in here, all mess up floors, leave gifts everyware. One off my kossins watch over. Safe as anyware in mountens, less somethink follow you here, track you here. Anyway! Stay in any of thees rumes for night. Domovoi not mind, not bother. You not even knowink we here."

He turned to Maxis and Roland. "You needink pot, domovoi have one here. My family not savages! Cook up soup in there," and he pointed to the fireplace and a grill and rod for hanging pots above it. "Makink fire in hearth no problem for domovoi. Although if trav'lirs wantink what ranger Vindarek brought, pleased be takink. Only consumink space here."

And he brought them to one of the cupboards, and with more strength than his tiny form led one to presume he had, he pulled the cupboard to one side, revealing a hidden space behind it, no larger than a cupboard itself in height, width, and depth.

A cupboard space that held nothing that belonged in a cupboard. Three sets of armour stood inside, hanging on their racks, and a beautiful-looking bastard sword in its scabbard hung from a hook. And on the floor, almost forgotten, lay a small felt pouch in which two pearls had been carefully placed along with a good 630 gold pieces, inscribed from the Coracle Throne mint. Alongside it lay a scroll that Mundstock and Verglas could both tell at a glance was magical.

The suits of armour were a set of full plate, a set of banded mail, and a chain shirt. They had no dust on them, but that was likely more due to domovoi maintenance than any magic at work. And on examination the bastard sword was a beautiful piece, balanced superbly; this was a good masterwork quality at least.

Roland could tell the sets of armour were old. That certainly was consistent with the story of them being placed here the better part of a century before. The general design was enough to identify them as plate, banded mail, and chain shirt. However, he could see at a glance from his own experience armorsmithing that the stuff lacked the great Delsander's innovations, common as dirt now, but as glaring in these suits of armor as ... well, an arrow without all three fletchings. They'd work well enough, but he pitied the poor people a hundred years ago who'd had to wear these things for long hours on end. The chafing in the armpits! And even more chafing at the groin, in the case of the full plate!

The arcane scroll was an older design, lacking some of the more ... clever innovations in disguising scrolls' intent that the Mountain had introduced in these years. The scroll had several spells on it: Alarm, Endure Elements, and Reduce Person.

[Riggdgames]

Roland

Opening his mouth to speak when Stavro shows they clearly have a pot, Roland clamps it shut instead, thinking better of it. As they move on to more important things, he watches Stavro push the cupboard aside with hardly a grunt.

Peering inside with the others, Roland lets out a full-throated laugh of delight, grabbing the full plate off of its rack to examine it closer. "Gods above, would you look at that!" he exclaims, standing aside so the others can get by and tracing his fingers over the armor. "Spaulders with besagews," Roland says, shaking his head. "Good luck swingin' a hammer all day in that." Looking at the others, it dawns on Roland that one of them might actually want to put some of this armor on for themselves. He wouldn't blame them. It was hard to imagine anyone wanting to march into danger with just a bit of chain over their chest or naught but leather.

"Might be I could rig up a pauldron with a gardbrace if one of you wanted to use this." Delsander's liable to roll over in his grave if I don't try to do something before you put it on, he didn't say.


Not sure if anyone wants anything, but my tools are still intact so I could probably 'update' a piece of armor to be more comfortable--after dinner, of course. Just let me know if that's not the case Saintheart.

[Toliudar]

Verglas

The slender gnome has been content to simply soak in both the the warmth and the conversation. She perks up a bit at the prospect of some bit of ancient wisdom among the makeshift shrine to the old warrior, and she takes a cautious glance at the scroll. She stares for a couple of minutes, and pronounces judgement, rolling it up again.

"This certainly checks out - old but not ancient, inelegant but serviceable design. There are magics here to keep you safe on your travels, and to help conceal you from view."

She pauses, about to expand on a principle that, as magical research continues, it will be possible to halve the size of scroll paper needed to contain the incantations required every decade, until the magical pathways will be containable in a dot that could literally be placed inside the eye. Looking around the room, she sizes up her audience, and shuts up.

[DrK]

Njal

The dwarf bows to the strange little welcoming fey folk. The he looks at the armour and nods in appreciation, looking at the others. "Fine craft. The work is good, if old and outdated." He handles the sword briefly, feeling the weight and the heft and nods. "Good workmanship" Studying them further he mutters a few words, his senses attuning to magic as he seeks to discover magical natures of them.

Enjoying the stew from them he looks to the others. "Shall we rest here for the night and press on a first light? It is not wise to travel in the darkness or in the cold."

[Riggdgames]

Roland

After a last look, Roland hangs the aged full plate armor back up in its space and pushes the cupboard back into place. There was just no sensible way to carry an extra 50 pounds worth of steel for no good reason when their survival was at stake, no matter how interesting it appeared.

After enjoying an extra helping of stew from his place on the floor, Roland nods over at Njal. "A warm fire and a full stomach," Roland says, letting out a belch. "You couldn't get me back out on the road tonight without the Firekeeper herself to push me out the door. Let's get some shut-eye and we can get moving again at first light."

[Saintheart]

For what it was worth, the armour didn't appear to have been touched by the Spirits, and not perverted by the elves. Nor was there the lingering whisper of magework, from the Mountain or anywhere else, to it. There was no hint of magic to it. Nor indeed was there any magic to any of the suits of armour. And the bastard sword, beautiful work though it was, was simply well=made, not magical.

[Toliudar]

Verglas

As if by way of response to Njal, Verglas has already found a corner by the fire, taken off her travel cloak and used it as a blanket. While she is indeed hungry, mostly the cold has simply worn her out, and she already looks half-asleep.

[DrK]

Njal

Examing the articles of war he nods, running a hand through his thick beard. "It is well made, crafted by a Master, one likley now dead unless it was one my kin." Ho bows to the strange fey creatures before eating his fill and looking to the others. "Aye, we'd best eat, sleep and be up at first light to continue our hunt."

[Riggdgames]

Roland

Nodding at Njal, Roland tries and fails to stifle a yawn. He turns to Stavro, thanking him once more before pulling his equipment into an empty room. Satisfied, warm, and full, Roland barely manages to lay out his bedroll before passing out for the night.

[Niobaran]

Maxis

As much as she wants to protest, say that they cannot waste more time, that it is wrong to sleep here comfortably while the other young woman might be somewhere freezing in the snow... it is not only so comfortable but the presence of the domovoi makes it feel so right. In the end, the darkness becomes the deciding factor. Going on blindly was madness that could well cost them their horses or worse. Sometimes the gods sent aid that often went unnoticed..

She shortly confirms and asks the Domovoi if they know more about the place's history, half out of curiosity and half out of searching for the bliss of her attention being drawn somewhere else.

[Goaty14]

Ethron

More relaxed, though still slightly unnerved at the thought of sleeping outside the safety of the city walls for the first time, Ethron also unpacked his belongings and set down his bedroll. From the gear avaliable in the cupboard, he took out the Bastard Sword and switched it out for his club, the latter of which he threw out into the snow - it was just a cool-looking stick he picked up along the way, anyways. It'll cost him an additional 3# of weight... but the difference between a stick and a finely-forged length of iron was immeasurable to Ethron.

Attack Roll to throw the old stick as far as I can! :smalltongue:: [roll0]

[Saintheart]

Predawn darkness, Day 2
Complication Pool: 6 of 6

Ethron had dreamed, strangely, of the club arcing end over end into the air before disappearing into the snow. He'd felt it to be a right sort of throw, a good one that made quite the distance before it was gone into the twilight...

Stavro had started telling Maxis something about the house's history; in his accent, the domovoi was saying how the valley back in Vindarek's time was a place of blood, where the Hardwalkers and the Darkstones fought over it, and how the giant crows had feasted well out of the mountains. But sometime as the candle-man was telling his story, her eyes had grown heavy, and she found herself dropping into sleep with the rest of the story untold...

The adventurers had slept, and their rest was warm and comfortable.

At least until sometime in the deep darkness well before dawn, when all of them were woken up by the noise of Stormrir snarling and barking, Mundstock's mount howling, and the remaining mounts screaming outside. The domovoi were around them, at the windows, a cry of dismay going up from one or two of them as fire flared from outside the house, as if a torch had been lit and then extinguished.
"Icevulf!" Stavro was blurring towards the nearest window, face grim as he shouted. "Icevulf pack!"

And then a bone-chilling noise, as something large, canine, and wild howled in the cold night air outside.

What do you do?

For clarity, the Firekeeper's clerics pray for spells at dawn. Verglas also hasn't had 8 hours' sleep as yet, so no new spells memorised yet. Druid spells also haven't ticked back over for the new day, that takes a time of placating or inviting the Spirits that Njal hasn't had an opportunity to do yet. Can be assumed nobody's in armour unless they had a Restful Crystal I've missed.

[Toliudar]

Verglas

The gnome struggles groggily to her feet, snatching up her cloak and whirling it around her. She looks down, trying to figure out where she put her crossbow.

"Sounds like everyone's hungry tonight. Do we need to go defend the horsies?"

[Riggdgames]

Roland
AC 14 (shield-only); HP 36/36
Condition: -

A few moments pass before Roland crashes out into the hall, strapping his shield to his arm over a hastily thrown on undershirt that appears to be on backwards. Reaching back into his room, Roland grabs his maul and stomps towards the door in boots, trousers, a thin shirt, and nothing else.

"Stavro! Verglas! Can you do anything to light our way?" Roland asks, his eyes wild as he stands torn between waiting for an answer and darting out into the snow. "I can barely see a thi--" A cry from the horses cuts him short as he fancies he can hear Ember's squeal of fright. He opens the door and hesitates for just a moment longer as a wall of cold air and darkness hits him in the face before he runs out towards the stables.


Putting on some boots and a shield only, then moving as directly as possible towards the horses unless he can somehow tell there's a wolf right on top of him that's going to get attacks of opportunity. I'm narrating through a few actions that Roland wants to do to save time, but let me know if his actions are cut off by new information.

Listen: [roll0]

Edit: Blind and deaf :smallfrown:

[DrK]

Njal

Nestled against the warm flank of his massive husky Njal awoke sharply, jerked back into waking by the snarls outside and the shouts inside. He stumbles to his feet, grabbing the massive tigerskull club from his waist. As he hears shouts of icewulvs he curses under his breath before opening himself up to the spirits, drawing the power of the mountains into. He felt his muscles strengthen as the dog beside him also grows!



Move: Stand up drawing tigerskull club
Standard: Cast Bullstrength (sharing with Gromnir)


Hps 26 / 26 Saves +6 /2 /6 (+2 Vs cold)
AC: 11 (no armour or shield currently)


Stormrir
30 hp (4HD) Init +1 Speed 50 ft Fort +7, Ref +5, Will +2
AC 17 (-1 size, +1 Dex, +4 natural +3 AC), touch 10, flat-footed 16
BAB/Grapple +3/+11
Attack: 2 hooves +6 melee (1d6+4) and bite +1 melee (1d4+2)
Special Qualities: Low-light vision, scent
Abilities: Str 18, Dex 13, Con 17, Int 2, Wis 13, Cha 6
Skills/feats: Listen +5, Spot +4 / Endurance, Run

Gromnir (Wintery Huskie) - Level 3 companion
29 hp (4HD) Init +3 Speed 40 ft Fort +7, Ref +7, Will +2
AC 21 (+3 Dex, +6 natural +2 armour), touch 12, flat-footed 18
BAB/Grapple +3/+6
Full Attack: Bite +6 melee (1d8+4 + Trip (+3))
Special Qualities: Low-light vision, scent
Abilities: Str 16, Dex 16, Con 16, Int 2, Wis 12, Cha 6
Skills: Jump +9, Listen +6, Spot +6, Swim +4, Survival +2/6*
Feats: Alertness, Track, Improved Natural attack (bite) / Link, Share spells, Evasion

[Niobaran]

Maxis

"Wh-aat?" She asks, startled, as she wakes surprised by the sound. She darts up, leaping towards hammer and shield, and then towards the window. "What's... What's happening? Where is it?"

[Toliudar]

Verglas

The little mage grunts an affirmative to Roland's question.

"Yes, yes. I can light our way, but the lights won't last long, so make it count."

She snatches up her crossbow and, straining, manages to set it and slide a bolt into place, and then stumbles a bit toward the door.

Move action - pick up her Crossbow.
Standard action - load the crossbow.
5' step toward the door to the cabin.

[Saintheart]

Predawn darkness, Day 2
Complication Pool: 6 of 6

The adventurers tumbled out the back door of the house in various states of undress. The cold bit hard; Ethron, Njal, and Maxis gritted their teeth against it, having encountered such an icy chill before and being inured to it, but for Mundstock, Verglas and Roland it was like being hit in the face with icicles. Cold breath tumbled down their lungs, beginning the inexorable process of pulling warmth from their bodies ... if they didn't resolve this quickly. Stavro was right behind them, the domovoi screaming at the others in the house to close the door and light candles everywhere.

The stableyard was full of wolves.

3 of them were by the stable. The white-furred, red-eyed creatures darted backwards and forwards, snapping at the lone domovoi by the door, who was producing flames from his empty hands and feinting at the creatures, occasionally throwing a little gout of flame that lighted on the snow outside and hissed into darkness. It was immediately clear to the adventurers that the wolves were trying to draw the domovoi out, or perhaps draw Stavro out; there was no way the single candle-man by the stable could stand if the wolves decided to rush him.

10 more white-furred wolves were in the yard, snarling, drawing back as the adventurers came out, clearly getting themselves in the most advantageous positions to attack, slowly inching around to flanking positions, though they seemed to be keeping a 20 foot distance between themselves and the adventurers. There was enough reflected light from the half-moon on the snow to see clearly enough.

And behind them, crouched on the remains of a broken wagon, was one more. Not a wolf ... not quite. Larger; stronger; a greater look of intelligence in its eyes. And this one's fur was mottled white and black, with a look of real evil in its eyes, and a smile on its snout that didn't seem to be wholly derived from the canine shape of its face.
"Tarak," said Stavro, the hate clear in the domovoi's tone.
"Little man," said the wolf, in a snarling, accented, but entirely clear Common. "Bring out your clan now, or your spawn by the horse-house dies."

Njal recognised the configuration in play here, and therefore identified what they were facing. The domovoi had called them icevulf, but the dwarven name for this furry pack of death was Wargsakh, a type of mountain wolf that was in most respects the same as normal animal, but instilled with the cold of the mountains and the snows. They fought and behaved mostly like wolves except for the fact their bite seemed to cause freezing around the wound, causing greater injury as it partially froze the blood. And invariably a wargsakh was led by a creature of the kind that had just spoken: a dire wolf, more intelligent, which provided the fighting will of the pack.

Some druids speculated (when there was time to worry about that sort of thing) that some sort of minor Spirit lived in a dire wolf's mind, giving it power to communicate with others; either way, the enmity between domovoi and dire wolf was entirely understandable. Dire wolves lived to dominate their territories and thrived in the cold, in the outdoors; some facet of the way the Spirits had touched them left them unable to cross the threshold of a constructed dwelling like a house, though they could still raid stables where animals were. Domovoi lived to watch over such places and were little Spirits of the spark. Likely, Njal realised, the thoughts coming in a blurring rush, they'd inadvertently given the wolves the perfect opportunity: the wargsakh could never have crossed the threshold of the ranger house itself, but both their mounts and one of Stavro's kin were outside in the stable. The domovoi capability for fire was, under normal circumstances, more than enough to match a determined wargsakh and its leader; these wolves could harm more than a normal animal with their cold, but that crystal of ice in their blood was correspondingly vulnerable to fire.

They had all heard stories of mountain wolf packs, but both the number and the fact one of the things was communicating with Stavro was a distinct surprise.

The temperature out here is fairly south of zero, so Mundstock, Verglas, and Roland are all going to need to make Fort saves in 10 minutes' time if this isn't over before then - they aren't affected until then. Everyone else has Cold Endurance or similar and so don't have to make Fort saves for an hour.

It's about forty feet from the back door to the stable where Stavro's kin is standing.

No real impediments to vision here by combination of both the reflected moonlight on the snowy ground and such light as there is from the ranger hut's windows.

Otherwise: what do you do? Anything else you guys need to know about the physical environment that I've missed?

[Riggdgames]

Roland
AC 14 (shield-only); HP 36/36
Condition: -

"Look no further, beast. We are his clan!" Roland shouts, raising his voice loud enough to carry to the lone domovoi by the stable. Desperately trying not to ruin the effect by shaking or shivering, Roland raises the maul in his outstretched hand, pointing directly at the talking wolf and trying to meet its eyes. "You'd do well to find easier prey," he growls. "Begone Tarak! Go while you can! I swear to you, if any of our clan fall this day, I will put you to sleep and you'll dream of feeding crows," Roland promises, dropping the maul to his side.



Intimidate: [roll0]

[Toliudar]

Verglas

AC 17, HP 20

Verglas channels all of the assurance she doesn't actually feel into her voice. She lifts her small crossbow to firing position.

"Indeed. Imagine having to explain how you lost an eye to such a small and ineffectual little creature.

I was hoping to have Verglas cast Mage Armour before we head out. If necessary, she'd cast now. As they rush out to the wolves, she will cast dancing lights, and spread them out so that there's lots of light on all of the wolves.

Intimidate - Aid another for Roland's efforts [roll0]

[DrK]

Njal

The dwarf, strong with the strength of the mountain in him looks at the wolves with a sneer. "Leave now beast lest we make a rug frae your hide." He spits into the snow lining up beside Roland, the tigerskull club in his hands and the snarling husky by his side.



Move to Roland
Ready to club / bite

Readied Tigerskull club: [roll0] damage [roll1]
Readied Bite : [roll2] damage [roll3] and Trip [roll4] vs [roll5]+??

Hps 26 / 26 Saves +6 /2 /6 (+2 Vs cold)
AC: 11 (no armour or shield currently)

Stormrir
30 hp (4HD) Init +1 Speed 50 ft Fort +7, Ref +5, Will +2
AC 17 (-1 size, +1 Dex, +4 natural +3 AC), touch 10, flat-footed 16
BAB/Grapple +3/+11
Attack: 2 hooves +6 melee (1d6+4) and bite +1 melee (1d4+2)
Special Qualities: Low-light vision, scent
Abilities: Str 18, Dex 13, Con 17, Int 2, Wis 13, Cha 6
Skills/feats: Listen +5, Spot +4 / Endurance, Run

Gromnir (Wintery Huskie) - Level 3 companion
29 hp (4HD) Init +3 Speed 40 ft Fort +7, Ref +7, Will +2
AC 21 (+3 Dex, +6 natural +2 armour), touch 12, flat-footed 18
BAB/Grapple +3/+6
Full Attack: Bite +6 melee (1d8+4 + Trip (+3))
Special Qualities: Low-light vision, scent
Abilities: Str 16, Dex 16, Con 16, Int 2, Wis 12, Cha 6
Skills: Jump +9, Listen +6, Spot +6, Swim +4, Survival +2/6*
Feats: Alertness, Track, Improved Natural attack (bite) / Link, Share spells, Evasion

[Riggdgames]

Roland
AC 14 (shield-only); HP 36/36
Condition: -

Roland stares daggers at Tarak, his feigned arrogance a little less hollow with a friendly set of voices crowding in behind his and a sturdy dwarf at his side. Pitching his voice just loud enough for his companions to hear, he speaks quickly and admits, "seems like he brought a few too many pets to be backin' down without a fight. And even if I liked our odds, I don't think the candle-man can hold out long by himself. If we can get Stravro's kin and the horses back over here, might be we could hole up in the house and pick 'em apart from in there or just frustrate 'em until they leave," Roland says, keeping his eyes front as his breath turns to mist in the cold.

"If it comes to that, I'll draw as many as I can. If a couple of you can punch through or sneak around to the stables while they're busy, Ember and Stormrir should be able to get you back safe to the house."

[Niobaran]

Maxis

While the others speak, she readies her shield. She then steps forward herself to stand at Roland's and Njal's side, nodding to each of them in affirmation, before addressing the wolves. As she speaks, flames start to swiftly emerge from the holy symbol on her chest, engulfing her body and weapon, until she stands ablaze -- a lonely torch in the dark, cold night, bathed in the confidence of her goddess.

"You came to the wrong place, creatures of the dark. Begone now, or meet the Fiery Lady's wrath."


Using Fire Devotion (swift action) to cover myself in flames.
As she can sleep in light armor without penalty, and sees herself as protector, I assume she slept in the chain shirt. She also has blindfight, btw, so while she prefers a fight at daylight, she believes she can also fight at night.

I'll also roll intimidate, if only to help the previous rolls.
[roll0]

[Riggdgames]

Roland

He felt her before he saw her, but until she stepped up by his side, Roland couldn't explain the warmth tickling at his skin. Even so, he hadn't thought anything could make him take his eyes off Tarak or his pack. The line between life and death seemed awfully thin in that moment. But when he felt an avatar of the Firekeeper standing at his side, Roland looked, and then he looked some more.

He actually sank a couple inches towards the ground before straightening back up again with a start, an overwhelming urge to drop to one knee almost overcoming the needs of the moment. And still Roland watched her burn. A few years ago he'd watched the sun rise over the frozen shores north of Arrynburgh and renewed his vows to the Firekeeper under the sky she'd painted red. He felt that same feeling now.

Where the cold had chilled his bones, warmth flooded over him. Where doubt had begun to fester, only faith remained. Eyes damp with emotion, Roland hardened himself as he turned his full attention back to the matter at hand.

[Saintheart]

Predawn darkness, Day 2
Complication Pool: 6 of 6

The effect of Maxis's challenge was stunning.

As she immolated herself, the wolf pack visibly flinched. The closest seven or eight wolves to Maxis retreated a few steps, snarling, and the creatures closest to Stavro's kin in the stable backed away from him. That might have been enough of an opportunity for some of the adventurers to dash for the little domovoi, but whether they did or not, the pack somehow seemed to turn its attention to their leader, Tarak.

For a second or two there was hesitation. The mottled beast's yellow-eyed gaze flicked from one adventurer to the next, resting for a moment on Njal and the husky beside him, then to Verglas, then Roland ... and finally, stopping with Maxis, burning with the Firekeeper's holy flame, the torch in the darkness.

The beast snarled once more, turning its gaze to Stavro. "Another time, little man." It looked back at Maxis. "And we mark you, firewoman. You and all your pack. Tarak promises we will meet again."

Then it turned, and loped off into the crags and twisted trees in the rock.

The rest of the pack followed it, turning and bolting for the shadows. The lack of sound was eerie. In moments where a dozen wolves had filled the stableyard there was nothing but wind and footprints.


And that's 750 XP each for you guys!

[Toliudar]

Verglas

Verglas kept her dubiously effective crossbow trained on the butt of the alpha wolf until the pack had completely disappeared from view before turning to Maxis.

"That was quite remarkable, an extraordinary combination of seemingly genuine emotion, eldritch might and what the gnomish elders refer to as chutzpah. Bravo, Maxis."

She paused to examine the snow in their area, and the floating globes of light swoop across the surface in expanding circles around Verglas.

"Sorry, just being sure. That wolf said that they marked you, and, well, even I know how dogs mark things. But you and the area both seem to be completely urine free. So...another reason for celebration, I suppose. A celebration inside,I'd say."

Unless there is the need for further conversation outside, Verglas returns indoors, gets warmed up, and drops off to sleep as quickly as she's able.

[Riggdgames]

Roland

Silent for a time, when Roland finally speaks, he does so with reverence. "I think if I live to be 100 years old, I may never forget where I was the night you stepped forward wreathed in flame and spoke in the Firekeeper's voice. No doubt the bards will write a song and the children will beg for stories about Maxis 'Thrice-Blessed,' the woman on fire. 'She carries three of the Firekeeper's gifts,' they'll say. 'Maxis Thrice-Blessed wields Her magic. She speaks with Her voice. And she is a vision of Her bea--'" Roland says, stopping abruptly and searching in vain for a way out, his face suddenly warm against the chill of night. He coughs, stepping past Maxis towards the door and remarks, "no doubt Verglas is right though, the celebration should take place inside."

[Niobaran]

Maxis

She stands their for a moment, and when the wolves actually turn, she feels relief washing over her. Her confidence was strong, but still she is happy not to have to fight those beasts. Tonight at least. The words of the wolf stay as a bitter aftertaste of the sweet success. When the wolves have vanished, she turns to her companions. Hearing Verglas' compliments and concern regarding her possible encounter with canine urine, she can not prevent a grin. "I... I believe he meant something very different, and we might wish he'd stuck to the more traditional version... But yes, let's go inside. I... I think I need a drink." As Roland begins to serenade her, she slightly bows her head, proud of her success but also slightly overwhelmed by these compliments. As he starts to get stuck in his own words, she looks up and gives him a warm, slightly amused look. For a moment, she seems as if she wants to say something, but then the flames vanish, and she merely agrees. "Yes, let's go."

After entering the house, and when everyone has settled again, she turns to her comrades. "We stood bravely. Together. Honoring ourselves and those we stand for. Yet, we delayed a confrontation." her eyes seek those of Stavros. "What can you tell us about this beast?"

[DrK]

Njal

Njal takes a couple of steps forward and watches the wolves leave and scurry away."Phew. A relief there that thy ran like cowards, I dinnae like the talking one mind. He'll be back, I reckon we'll get more trouble frae him." He looks once more to make sure they are gone before running into the stable to check on the horses, eager to make sure that his poor horse has not suffered anymore injuries.

That done he'll head back inside and don the thick furs and the heavy coat of dragon mail to both keep the cold out and garb him for battle. Resting in the stableyard he nods to the others. "I can take watch till dawn eh? You lads get some sleep."

[Saintheart]

Predawn darkness, Day 2
Complication Pool: 6 of 6

Stavro closed the door behind the last of the adventurers, nodding thankfully to Njal, squeezing the shoulder of his kinsman as the other domovoi shuddered and resumed his watch. As they resettled for what was left of the night, the domovoi turned to answer Maxis's question.

"Tarak has been in these mountains for many yeers," said Stavro. "He is old as me. His pakh is as old. Ve ... fought ... over an old hermit's hoot, years agoo. My clan kill't too of his kin, set him afire a moment. For that, I lost me father, me grandfather. Not seen him and his pakh here for long time. Must haf tracked you heer." The domovoi shook his head. "Grateful always for yoor help, sirs. Just fear I haf left you viv enemy. Tarak pride boundless. Hope he tries heer 'gain only. Vill not catch us outside again. Hope he does not try follow you instead."

The rest of the night passed in silence.

Before I forget, deduct a trail ration each.

Complication Pool resets to 1 of 6.

By the time of dawn, Verglas hasn't had 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep; it'll take another 2 hours. That said, assuming you guys are moving on, we just need to specify which direction, and what pace you're setting.

[Riggdgames]

Roland

Waking at dawn, Roland rubs the sleep from his eyes as he rolls out from under the warm covers. Stretching, he puts on his furs and trundles out into the yard, carrying his armor slung over his shoulder as he makes for the stables.

"Morning Njal," Roland greets him, "anything in the night? I mean, after the wolves of course." Stopping in front of Ember's stall, Roland reaches out a hand and brushes her mane. "Would you mind helping me into my armor this morning?" he asks, breath steaming in the cold morning air.

"Why don't you head inside for a bit and take your last chance to warm up while the other's finish resting. I'm sure today will be a long one if we're going to try to head Lyssa off at the pass."

[Toliudar]

Verglas

Verglas resists the Domovoi's kind efforts to rouse her gently, and sleeps well into the morning. She grunts an apology, then devours a simple breakfast while staring steadily into a book. Shortly, she snaps the book shut and slides it into her slender pack.

"Thank you for your patience. Shall we work to rediscover the path, and hopefully evade the possible tracking by ravenous wolves?"

[DrK]

Njal

Njal grunts a greeting to the tall man as Roland enters the stable. "Aye, no worries my friend," in answer to the armour and brusquely helps Roland don the heavy plates of steel. "Didnae see anything else last night. Wolves scared 'em away eh? We'll keep an eye out in the light but if they come back we'll give 'me a good showing. Be less brave when we are all mounted up."

He nods at the suggestion of warming up slightly and head inside for food and drink before dragging his pack out and getting Stormrir ready to ride. "Shall we head off? The wee lass won't catch much but death in the snow if we don't find her."

[Saintheart]

Midmorning, Day 2
Complication Pool: 2 of 6

Stavro the domovoi had seen them off after Verglas had sufficient time to rest and prepare her spells once more. There didn't seem to be any sign of the wolven pack from the night before, and Gromnir trotted around just as contentedly as he had when they'd first arrived. Stavro also gave them solid directions to the quickest way out of the mountains and down to the Valley floor, which would allow them to make up a little of the lost time from their interrupted night's sleep. The last view the adventurers had of him was at the doorway of the ranger hut, hand raised high in farewell, a flickering flame dancing at his fingertips.

They made their way out of the narrow ravine that functioned as the ranger station's location, and back into the mountains. Stavro's directions were as good as his word, and the path they found was good for their mounts and gave them vistas of the Valley of the Spear beyond, something to contemplate, trouble them, and excite them perhaps as they descended out of the mountains.

https://media.istockphoto.com/photos/frozen-valley-picture-id470978166?k=6&m=470978166&s=170667a&w=0&h=T0sUPg7YuJfQBKP2ZfJ5olgZj12IfH7XbQeuBo6Ivps=

The land rolled and dipped; there could be a hundred different things hiding behind every dead tree, or in every dell. It was picturesque in its own way, but it was also pretty clear why nobody had ever really been able to fully control this ice-blasted land. That said, they were lucky enough not to run into anything coming out of the hills; another legacy of Stavro's directions, given the fast pace they were all setting.

The niggling, annoying feeling that Njal had as they'd been descending out of the mountains was now starting to bear fruit. He could feel it in his dwarven bones. The Spirits (so he Had Been Given To Know) of the winds were always restless when a Gravewind was on its way, even weeks out. The Spirits of the air knew when their Eldest Brother was on his way. The weather was starting to turn, and whilst it wasn't early arrival of the Gravewind or anything like that, the odds were pretty damned good the wind and the plunging temperature was going to last the day ... as were the flying ice and snow and sleet that came with them.

However, as the adventurers reached the Valley proper, the wind began to kick up. Hard. Coming out of the southwest, behind them, but Horizon winds never helped a traveller whichever way they came from, and the wind cut like a blade. Hard and fast. Most of the adventurers were rugged up well enough to keep even this piercing cold out, but Verglas was a notable exception. And even with all the time the horses had likely spent in the cold, Horizon wind was still bone-chilling.

In game terms, the temperature's dropping somewhere south of 0 Fahrenheit, so what would be called Severe Cold. If I have the stats right, that means Level 2 cold protection is needed to not make Fort checks. Verglas, Stormrir and Roland's (I think unnamed?) mount only have level 1; I know Stormrir has a Fullcloth, but that doesn't provide full level 2 I'm afraid.

It's not catastrophic yet; level 1 still conveys partial protection, which means anyone in that situation makes Fort checks once per hour to avoid taking nonlethal damage (and thus risk of Frostbite, etc etc). Alternatively you might have spell-based solutions. Or indeed you might want to try and hunker down in shelter until the weather improves. Or turn back (fat chance :) ). Over to you guys?

[Niobaran]

Maxis

Feeling the cold of the wind creeping in even into her warm clothes, she looks at those less fortunate.

"The wind has grown worse, I'd rather not see anyone or the horses freeze to death." She pulls out a wand from under her first protective layer, grimacing briefly from the chill. "So, who needs a few warming words from the Fiery Lady?"


Happy to cast Endure Elements on whoever needs it. I'll use the wand. If I count correctly, it's three uses?

[Toliudar]

Verglas

The gnome woman does her best to tough out the storm, huddling into Roland's back as best she can, but as the temperature drops even lower, she takes advantage of a pause to cast a protective magic on herself. She manages a faint smile as Maxis offers the same protection.

"Th-thanks! But save it for the horses. I'll manage. Th-this way, we'll all freeze at more or less the same time. Good for a sense of fellowship and belonging!"

Verglas will cast Endure Elements on herself.

[Riggdgames]

Roland

Pulling his furs tighter around him, Roland shivers despite all his preparations for the cold. The wind was like a scythe cutting through the trees, every howl a fresh swing that sent him ducking for cover. The little gnome behind him wasn't much of a windbreak, but he was grateful for even the slightest protection and warmth. Even still, Roland's preparations hadn't extended far enough. He could feel Ember struggling beneath him in the bitter cold. A few moments later, Maxis offered reprieve, a gift from Her that would keep Ember strong and safe.

"My thanks, Maxis," Roland responds, gratefully accepting her offer. "I should never have brought her north of the Hold, but I thought she could aid us in the search. I should've been better prepared, though," he says, grimacing. Furrowing his brow, Roland pulls off his gauntlet and reaches into his belt pouch, offering three wands of his own. He puzzles over them for a second, trying to remember which was which, but in the end the bitter cold decides for him. He offers them down to Maxis as she continues to trudge through the snow. "Please, if you can channel Her power, you can make use of these, I hope. I think one of them has the spell you seek. What's it called," Roland says, grasping for the answer as he hands them off and bundles back up. "Ah well, you know."


I decided to name Roland's horse Ember a little while back :smallsmile:

Roland hands over 3 wands with 10 charges each:


Endure Elements
Cure Light Wounds
Pass Without a Trace


They are not in any discernible order and Roland only sort-of remember what they do.

[Saintheart]

Early Afternoon, Day 2
Complication Pool: 3 of 6

Maxis touched her wand to the two mounts, and a shimmering of ... something ... rippled for a brief moment across Ember and Stormrir's bodies and was gone. Immediately, though, the Firekeeper's blessing washed over them; they immediately stopped shivering and looked around, ready to get going again. And a moment later, so was Verglas, having shrouded her body in essentially the same spell.

Maxis recognised the three wands that Roland had handed over. There likely weren't many seeds of power left in them, but they seemed to be of solid make. The general design wasn't familiar to her, and none of them appeared to have been made by the church of the Firekeeper. Rather, she had the distinct impression these were the handiwork of the Father's temples given the slim, no-nonsense shape and the clean lines in the wood. That said, they would function for a cleric of the Firekeeper just as well for one of the Father; wands were more focuses, conduits for the power of the gods, though with each passing use the wear from channelling the raw power of a deity through them took its toll on them and would eventually render them useless. In any event, they seemed to contain blessings of Pass Without Trace, Cure Light Wounds, and Endure Elements, as the mnemonic for those prayer/blessings were remembered by the Firekeeper's church.

Having at least pushed back the cold for the time being, the adventurers got underway. The wind blew behind them, bringing needles of ice and sleet, and keened in the distant mountains. The path was a struggle; Maxis did manage to keep up even on foot, but that rather spoke to how heavy the snowdrifts were before them. The land was like the back of a white serpent: undulating up and down, with exposed patches of rock and dead trees like white scales all about. Now and then some sign of a rocky outcrop loomed out of the grey, but proved to be nothing more than another rise in the land or some great old stone sentinel long cleaned of earth by the wind.

Njal broke the trail as best he could about thirty feet ahead of them, setting a fast pace. Even with the wind at their backs, pushing hard through snow was a damnably tough job. The dwarf called a momentary halt for a second among a couple of ancient, fallen logs, surrounded by younger, withered-looking pine trees, both to allow the horses and Maxis to catch their breath as for him to momentarily get his bearings back.

Long instincts and some preternatural feeling for the cold and for patches of snow and dirt gave him a few split-seconds of warning. Or perhaps it was some affinity he shared with Gromnir, who suddenly bared his teeth, snarling and turning about one way and another. The wind was behind them, of course, so the big husky hadn't caught the scent until they were right in it. Still, the dwarf did manage to keep his head and realise once again just how dangerous it could be walking point at a fast pace in a land as hostile as the Valley.

Around the dwarf, Gromnir, and Stormrir, the snowy ground erupted with movement, and knotholes in the fallen trees were suddenly alive with small, furry bodies. Rats were swarming on the dwarf's position - too many to accurately count right at this moment, but close to two dozen. No, not rats: normal rats didn't grow to a good four feet long even in the most well-fed grainhouses in Chalice mansions, and normal rats didn't have eyes with the slightest green tint to them. No - Kzashen, that was what they were called in dwarven: dire rats.

Thirty feet behind Njal, the other three adventurers were shocked to the core as the earth around Njal, Gromnir, and Stormrir suddenly seemed to erupt with small rodent bodies. Well, if you called up-to-four-feet-long 'small'. There were a good two dozen or maybe a little less in immediate evidence. They'd clearly surrounded Njal and although they hadn't yet moved on the rest, it certainly looked as though these creatures weren't out to negotiate and they most likely knew the rest of the adventurers were there. Not normal rats: dire rats. And by the looks of it, hungry.

I'll get a map up soon, but here's how the initiative rolls turned out:

Roland: 21
Rats: 16
Verglas: 15
Njal: 13
Maxis: 8
Gromnir: 6

This is a surprise round. Njal and Gromnir are not surprised, and neither are the rats, but everyone else is. There's a good 20 dire rats, stats as per the SRD if you really want to go look there, and they've more or less surrounded Njal, Gromnir, and Stormrir. Gromnir can basically be taken to be next to Njal and Stormrir for simplicity's sake. The rest of the party is about 30 feet behind Njal and the rats surrounding him. The rats only get a standard action, so they don't get to move this round and complicate things, but you can assume that by the time the next round gets started many of them will be in range of Njal and his companions.

So. What do you do?

[Saintheart]

https://images2.imgbox.com/d0/fe/eYr1YM5n_o.jpg

I had problems getting the grid to match the map, so if in doubt, count by grid references rather than drawn squares.

[Riggdgames]

Edit: Oops, just realized I posted this in the wrong thread.

Damn Saintheart, that map looks fantastic! Love the details and definitely appreciate the work put in to making an icon for each character!

[DrK]

Njal

Njal, hunched atop the massive shaggy horse looked around as the snow erupted with a swarm of savage and horrid looking rats burst forth from the snow. "Stay back!" he barks at the others. He looks around, a moment feeling surrounded before seeing a gap in the oncoming circle of rats and galloping in a great cloud of snow with Gromrir snapping at his heels, a great leap as they race past several of the rats to reach the safety of the others and form a line of defence with the others.




Move out of the oncoming circle via row I so I trigger several AoO

Stormrir and Njal G4/G5/H4/H5
Gromri F3

Hps 26 / 26 Saves +6 /2 /6 (+2 Vs cold)
AC: 18 FF 17 Touch 11

Stormrir
30 hp (4HD) Init +1 Speed 50 ft Fort +7, Ref +5, Will +2
AC 17 (-1 size, +1 Dex, +4 natural +3 AC), touch 10, flat-footed 16
BAB/Grapple +3/+11
Attack: 2 hooves +6 melee (1d6+4) and bite +1 melee (1d4+2)
Special Qualities: Low-light vision, scent
Abilities: Str 18, Dex 13, Con 17, Int 2, Wis 13, Cha 6
Skills/feats: Listen +5, Spot +4 / Endurance, Run

Gromnir (Wintery Huskie) - Level 3 companion
29 hp (4HD) Init +3 Speed 40 ft Fort +7, Ref +7, Will +2
AC 21 (+3 Dex, +6 natural +2 armour), touch 12, flat-footed 18
BAB/Grapple +3/+6
Full Attack: Bite +6 melee (1d8+4 + Trip (+3))
Special Qualities: Low-light vision, scent
Abilities: Str 16, Dex 16, Con 16, Int 2, Wis 12, Cha 6
Skills: Jump +9, Listen +6, Spot +6, Swim +4, Survival +2/6*
Feats: Alertness, Track, Improved Natural attack (bite) / Link, Share spells, Evasion

[Riggdgames]

Roland
AC 21; HP 36/36
Fort: +6, Reflex: +3, Will: +1
Stance: Iron Guard's Glare
Condition: -

As Njal calls a halt, Roland takes the opportunity to look back behind them for any obvious sign that they're being followed. He half expects to find Tarak or one of his kin staring back at them from a distance, but as he surveys the trees around them, he can't see anything suspicious. Then again, Roland's father had always told him he couldn't see the fork he was using at supper until it was halfway to his mouth so he kept on looking.

Suddenly the ground seemed to shake and Roland's head whipped around just in time to see a hundred rats climb out of the snow to threaten Njal. Roland could only blink stupidly for a moment, but thankfully Njal was thinking clearly. Stormrir seemed to fly between two rats with Gromnir hot on his heels, which prompts Roland to take action as well. Swinging an armored leg over Ember's head, Roland drops to the ground and moves a few feet in front of the others, taking up a position just ahead of their line. All the while he is uttering a prayer, quietly at first, but slowly increasing in volume.

Hers is the light in the darkness
Hers is the fire that warms
I will prove myself worthy of Her radiance
The Keeper's flame safeguards against the swarms

He is still finishing his prayer as the rats explode into action, shouting the last line as they move.


Move action: dismount to F5.
5 foot step: F6.
Swift action: Change stance to Iron Guard's Glare.

Standard action: Ready an action to bop the first rat that comes into reach.

Maneuver: Leading the Attack
Attack roll: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Rider:
As part of this maneuver, you make a single melee attack. If your attack is successful, your allies gain a +4 morale bonus on attack rolls for 1 round against the creature you hit. You are your own ally.

[Saintheart]

Early Afternoon, Day 2
Complication Pool: 3 of 6

Njal spurred Stormrir in retreat, sending snow flying as they charged through the weakest-looking link in the garrote of vermin closing on them. The rats hissed, leaping with awful dexterity at Stormrir and Njal as they moved back. Their filthy-looking teeth snapped futilely at Stormrir, but one of them got a long fang into Njal's shin as they retreated, drawing blood. The dwarf gritted his teeth, his heritage and the Spirits pushing back against the disease that surely would have come with the bite, and they reached their location without being further assailed.

Roland leapt from Ember's back, his boots crunching with a satisfying noise as he cut through the snowdrift below him and hit solid ground below. The Firekeeper's inspiration filled him, and he wheeled his weapon back ready for a strike, body moving into the position some old ascetic had long-ago given the moniker of Iron Guard's Glare. Spiritual force rippled from him, and the rats seemed to sense something of it; their green eyes narrowed as they looked at him, realising what his devotion was doing to reality itself.

As one, the pack of rats surged forward, grey shapes sliding over snow and wood like a wave.

As he'd perhaps hoped, a good number of them surged at Roland. He unloaded a fast blow at the first rat that came into range, but the damnable things were faster still, and his strike went heartbreakingly wide.

Then the pack was on them. Roland was into battle focus, then, and he registered at least five different clanks on different parts of his armour as the rats tried but failed to breach his skin of iron.

Maxis wasn't so fortunate. They came swarming at her with terrible speed, and three of them sprang, drawing blood from different spots on her body. But the Firekeeper was with her too, and whatever fire that had surged to intimidate Tarak surged again, this time burning any infection away ... though drops of her blood still spattered on the snow.

Three more attacked Stormrir. The big mount screamed and reared, but one got a hit in. But Njal again heard the Spirits whisper: the creatures' infection hadn't leapt from the rats to his mount.

They were, for a few more seconds, still alive. And more of the rats were swarming around to Maxis and Stormrir's flanks.

https://images2.imgbox.com/34/e5/Tl0eIzSb_o.jpg



Initiative Order:
Roland: 21
Rats: 16
Verglas: 15 <---- We're here right now.
Njal: 13
Maxis: 8
Gromnir: 6

Summary:
Everyone who had to, made their Fort saves, no disease transmission.
However:
- Njal takes 4 damage
- Maxis takes a total of 6 damage.
- Stormrir takes 3 damage.

I'm afraid Roland's strike/roll was 1 short. But plate armour has its advantages, clearly, not one of the five attacks he took got past his AC, even with some flanking in there.

Over to you guys again - we're in normal rounds now.

[DrK]

Njal

Njal looked in shock as Roland leapt down, the man's strange fighting style seeming to attract all of the rats' attention! "Stay up the horse ye crazed man!" Njal will mutter, as he looks at the rats sneaking around the side of them. "Get a line together folks, we'll stop 'em flanking us!" Saying that he swings down with the sabretoothed skull club as Gromirr leaps into behind and the horse rears up, iron shod hooves smashing and prancing on the ground.



Njal: attack Rat16 [roll0] dam [roll1]
Stormrir: Start at Rat 17, then Rat 16 if 12 goes down
[roll2] dam [roll3] [roll4] dam [roll5] [roll6] dam [roll7]
Gromrir - move to H2 attack rat #18 [roll8] dam [roll9] and trip [roll10] vs [roll11] (-4 for the small rat!)



Hps 22 / 26 Saves +6 /2 /6 (+2 Vs cold)
AC: 18 FF 17 Touch 11

Stormrir
27/30 hp (4HD) Init +1 Speed 50 ft Fort +7, Ref +5, Will +2
AC 17 (-1 size, +1 Dex, +4 natural +3 AC), touch 10, flat-footed 16
BAB/Grapple +3/+11
Attack: 2 hooves +6 melee (1d6+4) and bite +1 melee (1d4+2)
Special Qualities: Low-light vision, scent
Abilities: Str 18, Dex 13, Con 17, Int 2, Wis 13, Cha 6
Skills/feats: Listen +5, Spot +4 / Endurance, Run

Gromnir (Wintery Huskie) - Level 3 companion
29 hp (4HD) Init +3 Speed 40 ft Fort +7, Ref +7, Will +2
AC 21 (+3 Dex, +6 natural +2 armour), touch 12, flat-footed 18
BAB/Grapple +3/+6
Full Attack: Bite +6 melee (1d8+4 + Trip (+3))
Special Qualities: Low-light vision, scent
Abilities: Str 16, Dex 16, Con 16, Int 2, Wis 12, Cha 6
Skills: Jump +9, Listen +6, Spot +6, Swim +4, Survival +2/6*
Feats: Alertness, Track, Improved Natural attack (bite) / Link, Share spells, Evasion

[Toliudar]

Verglas Ulizgrant

As Roland vaults from the saddle, Verglas tries to avoid pitching backwards in an equal-and-opposite manner. She lunges forward to grab the reins, just in case she thinks of something useful to do with them later. For the time being, though, she tries to help out with the not-getting surrounded thing that Njal suggested. That made good sense.

"Let's see if I can cut the left flank off, right? Left, Left. And by cut it off, I mean blind it. Don't be afraid, Maxis!"

She tries to send a ball of fun dust off to encapsulate the rats trying to angle around behind Maxis.

Verglas auto-succeeds on the concentration check to cast on horseback. She is not casting defensively. Her AC is 13.

Move action: take the reins.

Standard action: Cast glitterdust so as to include Rats 1, 6,7 and 2 in the 20' burst. Will DC 16 or blinded for 4 rounds.

Verglas Ulizgrant (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2191652)
Female Lawful Neutral Ice Gnome Wizard (Transmuter), Level 3, Init 2, HP 20/20, Speed 20'
AC 13, Touch 13, Flat-footed 11, Fort 5, Ref 4, Will 3, Base Attack Bonus 1
Light Crossbow (10) +4 (1d6, 19-20)
Quarterstaff +0 (1d4-2, x2)
Mage Armour (+2 Dex, +1 Size)
Abilities Str 6, Dex 14, Con 16, Int 18, Wis 8, Cha 12
Condition Endure Elements

[Saintheart]

Early Afternoon, Day 2
Complication Pool: 3 of 6

Verglas's spell exploded over the left flank, and with a chorus of disgusting squeaks, tiny golden motes shrouded every inch of the four rodents she'd targeted. The oversized rats pawed at their eyes, all seemingly blinded by the sudden spell. Maxis had dropped into defence, seeking to keep the rats assailing her at bay, and hardly noticed the sudden whipcrack of magic to her left.

Njal swung with his massive club from horseback, but the damnable rats were faster than they looked, and the one he'd aimed at dodged his blow.

Stormrir and Gromnir had more luck. The big horse's hooves went up, and squashed one dire rat flat beneath them, sending a sudden spray of red across the snow. Gromnir pounced, catching another of the rats in his teeth and breaking its neck with one expert canine shake of his jaws!

https://images2.imgbox.com/77/21/WoDrSyQz_o.jpg

MapTools is still giving me problems with the grid, so again go by grid references rather than the map where there's any doubt. Funky colours on the rats just represent the ones that have been hit by Verglas's Glitterdust spell.


All 4 rats fail their Will saves, so, all 4 are blinded. Two rats down and dead; lots more still coming. Maxis uses total defense, as said, which raises her AC by +4 for 1 round.

The Initiative Count:
Roland: 21 <---- We're back up here!
Rats: 16
Verglas: 15
Njal: 13
Maxis: 8
Gromnir: 6

Over to you guys again!

[Riggdgames]

Roland
AC 21; HP 36/36
Fort: +6, Reflex: +3, Will: +1
Stance: Iron Guard's Glare
Condition: -

Roland is entirely too focused on the surging swarm to hear Njal or Verglas, their words falling on deaf ears as the rats lunge at him from all sides. Roland stands firm, their teeth and claws clanking uselessly against his armor and his shield. Gritting his teeth, he swings his shield in front of him to try and create some distance, then turns to bring his hammer down on the rat nearest Ember and Maxis. He can feel the Red Lady's hand surging with his own, a whispered promise of healing warmth if he can only smite her enemy.


Crusader's Strike: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Heal Maxis on hit: [roll2]


As part of initiating this strike, you must make a successful melee attack against an enemy whose alignment has at least one component different from yours. This foe must pose a threat to you or your allies in some direct, immediate way. If your attack hits, you or an ally within 10 feet of you heals 1d6 points of damage + 1 point per initiator level (maximum +5).

[Toliudar]

Verglas Ulizgrant

What Verglas lacks in grace she makes up for in urgency as she snatches her crossbow off her back and slides a bolt home. Surveying the field from the elevated position of Gromnir's saddle, she lets fly at one of the rats.

Free action when combined with a move action - draw crossbow.
Move action - load crossbow.
Standard action - fire crossbow at a rat. Preferably one that is not currently in melee, and preferably not one that's already blind.
Attack: [roll0], +1 if being on horseback counts as 'elevated', -4 if she has to shoot at a rat in melee.
Damage: [roll1]
Verglas Ulizgrant (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2191652)
Female Lawful Neutral Ice Gnome Wizard (Transmuter), Level 3, Init 2, HP 20/20, Speed 20'
AC 13, Touch 13, Flat-footed 11, Fort 5, Ref 4, Will 3, Base Attack Bonus 1
Light Crossbow (10) +4 (1d6, 19-20)
Quarterstaff +0 (1d4-2, x2)
Mage Armour (+2 Dex, +1 Size)
Abilities Str 6, Dex 14, Con 16, Int 18, Wis 8, Cha 12
Condition Endure Elements

[Saintheart]

Early Afternoon, Day 2
Complication Pool: 3 of 6

Roland’s strike was true, and sent the dead rat’s body wheeling through the air. And the Firekeeper’s blessing was with him still, as energy crackled like lightning leaping between clouds and limned Maxis, closing all of her wounds just as quickly as they’d been opened.

The rats surged towards them. Those glittering with Verglas’s dust scented the air, hunger and desperation moving them in the direction of the adventurers. One closed in, sniffing the air … and leapt at the gnome mage, sinking its teeth into her thigh, drawing blood. The wound began to sting – but some instinct concentrated her senses, pushing the infection back, obliterating it. Barely.

The other three rats on the left flank snapped at Maxis, but here at least the blinding effect of the glitterdust had its desired effect; not one of those strikes got through her defences. Two more swiped at her, but the cleric’s defence was strong enough that none connected.

More of them swarmed in on Roland, replacing those that had been crushed. Again he worked both shield and maul, and there were two more clanks on his armour … but then, a burning pain at his hip just where the armour plates had a gap. Training and instinct told him from the fiery sensation at his hip, together with the slimy feel of rat spit, that some disease had entered him, despite his defence, even as he brushed the furry little horror away.

On the right, the rats swarmed around Gromrir, Stormrir, and Njal’s position. One rat got its teeth in Stormrir again, and a yelp from Gromrir announced that the wolf had been bitten – but Njal’s link with both animals somehow assured him no disease had entered their bodies yet.

A last rat leapt at Njal from behind, with terrifying acrobatism, and he felt sharp teeth plunge into his arm once more, blood flowing freely. Still, he managed to shake the vermin off before it had a chance to poison his wound – even as Verglas fumbled her crossbow into her hands and sent a crossbow bolt screaming off into the wind.


https://images2.imgbox.com/48/b7/ADgfan5l_o.jpg


- Maxis is healed 6 points and thus is at full health.

- Njal takes another 4 hitpoints of damage.
- Verglas takes 3 hitpoints of damage. (And barely saved against being infected - Roll of 5, modifier of 6 against DC 11!)
- Roland takes 2 hitpoints of damage, and has been infected with filth fever. Incubation period 1 day, 3 DEX and 3 CON damage this time tomorrow unless he’s cured in the meantime. Sorry man, Fort roll of 2 even with his solid modifier isn't enough to get over the DC.
- Gromrir takes 2 hitpoints of damage.
- Stormrir takes another 2 hitpoints of damage.

Initiative Order:
Roland: 21
Rats: 16
Verglas: 15 .
Njal: 13 <--- We are here now as Verglas’s shot went wide.
Maxis: 8
Gromnir: 6

Over to you guys!

[DrK]

Njal

The dwarf grunts as tiny teeth bite into him as he bellows a roar of rage. Spinning he swings the tiger skull club, teeth seeking to rip the rat from the back of the horse. Under him Stormrir continued to rear and stomp seeking to crush the carpet of dire rats. The wolf hung back teeth bared seeking to kill another one.



Njal attack #19 [roll0] dam [roll1]
Gromrir attacks #19 or #20 [roll2] dam [roll3]
Stormrir attacks nearest [roll4] dam [roll5] [roll6] dam [roll7] [roll8] dam [roll9]


Hps 20 / 26 Saves +6 /2 /6 (+2 Vs cold)
AC: 18 FF 17 Touch 11

Conditions:
Filthfever (incubation 1 day, 3 str/3dex)

Stormrir
25/30 hp (4HD) Init +1 Speed 50 ft Fort +7, Ref +5, Will +2
AC 17 (-1 size, +1 Dex, +4 natural +3 AC), touch 10, flat-footed 16
BAB/Grapple +3/+11
Attack: 2 hooves +6 melee (1d6+4) and bite +1 melee (1d4+2)
Special Qualities: Low-light vision, scent
Abilities: Str 18, Dex 13, Con 17, Int 2, Wis 13, Cha 6
Skills/feats: Listen +5, Spot +4 / Endurance, Run

Gromnir (Wintery Huskie) - Level 3 companion
27/29 hp (4HD) Init +3 Speed 40 ft Fort +7, Ref +7, Will +2
AC 21 (+3 Dex, +6 natural +2 armour), touch 12, flat-footed 18
BAB/Grapple +3/+6
Full Attack: Bite +6 melee (1d8+4 + Trip (+3))
Special Qualities: Low-light vision, scent
Abilities: Str 16, Dex 16, Con 16, Int 2, Wis 12, Cha 6
Skills: Jump +9, Listen +6, Spot +6, Swim +4, Survival +2/6*
Feats: Alertness, Track, Improved Natural attack (bite) / Link, Share spells, Evasion

[Toliudar]

Verglas Ulizgrant

Verglas protests the rat bite with a brief, high-pitched shriek, but then gets back to the business of not dying. Trying to weave away from the cursed rat, she sends an icy ray down at the blasted thing, then works to recock her crossbow.

Standard action - use Verglas' Ice Gnome Ray of Frost SLA.
Ranged Touch Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Move action - load crossbow.
Verglas Ulizgrant (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2191652)
Female Lawful Neutral Ice Gnome Wizard (Transmuter), Level 3, Init 2, HP 17/20, Speed 20'
AC 13, Touch 13, Flat-footed 11, Fort 5, Ref 4, Will 3, Base Attack Bonus 1
Light Crossbow (10) +4 (1d6, 19-20)
Quarterstaff +0 (1d4-2, x2)
Mage Armour (+2 Dex, +1 Size)
Abilities Str 6, Dex 14, Con 16, Int 18, Wis 8, Cha 12
Condition Endure Elements

[Riggdgames]

Roland
AC 21; HP 36/36
Steely Resolve: 2 (delayed damage pool)
Fort: +6, Reflex: +3, Will: +1
Stance: Iron Guard's Glare
Condition: Filth Fever (Incubation 1 day)

A stab of pain forces a grunt from Roland as filth and corruption begin flowing through his veins. Even so, he tries to shrug it off, battering the rat aside with his shield and using the pain to steel his resolve. He winds up a crushing blow on the rat to his other side, letting a roar escape his lips as he drives his hammer down towards it, hoping to crush it under the weight of his counter-attack.


Standard action: Furious counterstrike (+1 attack/dmg)
Maul attack on E5 Rat: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Prepare to use Shield Block as an Immediate Action off-turn, prioritizing blocking for Verglas and Njal if possible (not sure they count as adjacent), or Ember and Stormrir if not.


As an immediate action, you can grant an AC bonus to an adjacent ally equal to your shield's AC bonus + 4. You apply this bonus in response to a single melee or ranged attack that targets your ally. You can initiate this maneuver after an opponent makes his attack roll, but you must do so before you know whether the attack was a success or a failure.



Furious Counterstrike (Ex): You can channel the pain of your injuries into a boiling rage that lets you lash out at your enemies with renewed vigor and power. Each attack that strikes you only pushes you onward to greater glory. During your turn, you gain a bonus on attack rolls and damage rolls equal to the current value of your delayed damage pool (see steely resolve, above) divided by 5, and rounding down (minimum +1).

[Saintheart]

Early Afternoon, Day 2
Complication Pool: 3 of 6

The rats pressed in, biting and scratching again and again.

Maxis remained silent, batting back the creatures where she could, fighting defensively. Two of them were blinded and missed. But another leapt at her neck, in a movement that was surely only possible because there were so many of the damn things. The creature got purchase and sank its molars into her neck, setting blood flowing, and sending its pestilence flooding the cleric’s veins. And while she was distracted, another bit into her leg, drawing its own blood.

Roland had his balance now and finally got his range. His maul cracked out and turned one of the rats into a red smear against the snow. He sensed movement from in the corner of his eye. Snapped around with his shield out. There was a hollow bong and a rat fell away from the metal wall; it had been only inches from Stormrir’s flank. And all the while, the staccato clank of rat teeth and claws against his armour drummed on.

Njal’s tigerskull club whistled in the freezing air and caught another rat square, sending its broken body wheeling off into the snow. Gromnir grabbed another and crushed it between his fangs. None of Stormrir’s strikes connected, though, and another rat bit into the noble steed’s leg, drawing more blood … though once more, no infection had entered its veins.

Verglas, though, was in trouble. Seeming to smell her blood, the rats on the left flank swarmed her. They leapt, got purchase on Ember’s form, and were biting at her, again and again and again. One rat’s deep puncture into her shoulder set a burning in her blood; she was sure she’d been tainted with the horrible disease of the creatures. Angered, she sent a blast of ice into the creature that had bitten her, and it screamed with rage. She fumbled at her crossbow. And dropped her defences. The rats leaped in at her again. One got to her throat, but the glittering dust all over its form made it blink at a crucial second and it missed. But another bit at her shoulder, puncturing her deeply. Her skin was slick with red and there was a coppery smell in her nose. The rats shrieked their blood frenzy to the grey sky…

https://images2.imgbox.com/44/5b/pRRPytPN_o.jpg



- 10 more damage and infection with filth fever on Verglas this round. 1 day incubation period, 2 DEX and 1 CON damage. Natural 1 on the Fort roll, I’m afraid. On top of that, reloading the crossbow draws attacks of opportunity from the rats – Verglas wore three of them. 1 missed, 1 was blind from the Glitterdust, and 1 was a confirmed critical hit.

- 5 damage and infection with filth fever on Maxis. 1 day incubation period, 1 DEX and 3 CON damage. Even allowing for total defense, one rat still rolled above her adjusted AC and another got a natural 20, albeit it didn’t confirm the critical.

- 3 more damage on Stormrir, though Roland’s shield block stopped one of them getting through.

- Njal isn’t infected with filth fever, at least not yet – it was Roland who got infected last round, not our hearty dwarf druid :)

- Roland protects Stormrir because Njal and Verglas are not deemed adjacent to him I’m afraid.

- I wonder whether Maxis might have a phobia of rats? It could explain the actions thus far, just a suggestion for reasoning out her actions in the fight thus far. As said I understand people have issues posting, I just thought that might be an interesting character explanation for what’s happened thus far.

Initiative Order:
Roland: 21
Rats: 16
Verglas: 15 .
Njal: 13 <---- We are here now, Verglas having reloaded.
Maxis: 8:
Gromnir: 6

Over to you guys!

EDIT: I forgot to include what the results of infection on Maxis were. These are now included above.

[Toliudar]

Verglas Ulizgrant

"Ow!"


Accidentally edited this post. She actually cast mage armour and scurried back to the far side of the horse.
Verglas Ulizgrant (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2191652)
Female Lawful Neutral Ice Gnome Wizard (Transmuter), Level 3, Init 2, HP 7/20, Speed 20'
AC 17, Touch 13, Flat-footed 15, Fort 5, Ref 4, Will 3, Base Attack Bonus 1
Light Crossbow (10) +4 (1d6, 19-20)
Quarterstaff +0 (1d4-2, x2)
Mage Armour (+2 Dex, +1 Size)
Abilities Str 6, Dex 14, Con 16, Int 18, Wis 8, Cha 12
Condition Endure Elements
Diseased

[Saintheart]

Five foot step to shift position on the horse is fine, and that Concentration check is good enough to get Mage Armor to fire.

[DrK]

Njal

The dwarf knees the horse forward wading through the tide of rats at the horse's feet, a grim smile as the tigerskull makes contact crushing one. He looks to the others, "We are doing well, press the attack, they will break soon"



Njal attack [roll0] dam [roll1]
Gromrir attacks [roll2] dam [roll3]
Stormrir attacks nearest [roll4] dam [roll5][roll6] dam [roll7] [roll8] dam [roll9]


Hps 20 / 26 Saves +6 /2 /6 (+2 Vs cold)
AC: 18 FF 17 Touch 11

Conditions:

Stormrir
22/30 hp (4HD) Init +1 Speed 50 ft Fort +7, Ref +5, Will +2
AC 17 (-1 size, +1 Dex, +4 natural +3 AC), touch 10, flat-footed 16
BAB/Grapple +3/+11
Attack: 2 hooves +6 melee (1d6+4) and bite +1 melee (1d4+2)
Special Qualities: Low-light vision, scent
Abilities: Str 18, Dex 13, Con 17, Int 2, Wis 13, Cha 6
Skills/feats: Listen +5, Spot +4 / Endurance, Run

Gromnir (Wintery Huskie) - Level 3 companion
27/29 hp (4HD) Init +3 Speed 40 ft Fort +7, Ref +7, Will +2
AC 21 (+3 Dex, +6 natural +2 armour), touch 12, flat-footed 18
BAB/Grapple +3/+6
Full Attack: Bite +6 melee (1d8+4 + Trip (+3))
Special Qualities: Low-light vision, scent
Abilities: Str 16, Dex 16, Con 16, Int 2, Wis 12, Cha 6
Skills: Jump +9, Listen +6, Spot +6, Swim +4, Survival +2/6*
Feats: Alertness, Track, Improved Natural attack (bite) / Link, Share spells, Evasion

[Saintheart]

48 more hours and I think I'll update, folks. I'll change the approach a little, though: if nothing contradictory happens between now and then, Roland swings on the rats closest to him, Maxis gets over total defense and instead starts attacking, albeit fighting defensively.

[Saintheart]

Early Afternoon, Day 2
Complication Pool: 3 of 6

Verglas scrambled towards Ember’s front, avoiding rat teeth as they snapped at her, casting a spell of armoring; the air shimmered just a little all around the gnome, adding a wall of force to her meagre protection. Maxis and Roland finally began to swing their mauls with effect, blasting two more rats out of the world. Stormrir crushed another’s head, and Gromnir broke one more’s neck.

Njal’s guess that they were close to dissuading the rats seemed to have some truth to it; the creatures didn’t seem to be attacking as ferociously as earlier. The dwarf had an intuition that if they could hold just a little longer, just hold out a moment or two longer, then the remainder of the pack might scatter; they’d killed a good half of the disgusting vermin so far, and few base creatures were willing to wait around with half their number gone--

--the dwarf stopped to defend himself. Two rats, denied a bite on Verglas, came surging around towards him. But wheeling his big tigerskull club, he fended off their two forays. Below him, Stormrir squealed as a rat finally got its bite into the big steed.

The rats seemed to push in a final, frenzied attempt to bring someone down. Maxis was the most immediate target, taking two more bleeding bites from the pack. Another rat sprang at Verglas from Roland’s side; his move was fast enough and bounced the furry little horror off its line, so its jaw snapped on empty air. But it left the big warrior open enough for another rat to draw blood from where his plates had a gap between torso and leg…

https://images2.imgbox.com/58/8c/Mk9CsImQ_o.jpg


- Maxis takes two more rat bites for 7 more damage.
- Roland takes 3 more damage.
- Stormrir takes 3 more damage, but made his Fort roll. Not diseased.
- Two attempts on Njal, but neither hit. Ember got an AoO but missed (natural 1).

Initiative Order:
Roland: 21
Rats: 16
Verglas: 15 .
Njal: 13 <--- We are here, Verglas having cast Mage Armor.
Maxis: 8:
Gromnir: 6

[DrK]

Njal

The dwarf pats the horse the horse on the back trying to.valm it as the rats try and climb over his massive legs. Then swings again, a cry of "They'll break soon" to the others




Njal attack [roll0] dam [roll1]
Gromrir attacks [roll2] dam [roll3]
Stormrir attacks nearest [roll4] dam [roll5] [roll6] dam [roll7]
[roll8] dam [roll9]


Hps 20 / 26 Saves +6 /2 /6 (+2 Vs cold)
AC: 18 FF 17 Touch 11

Conditions:

Stormrir
19/30 hp (4HD) Init +1 Speed 50 ft Fort +7, Ref +5, Will +2
AC 17 (-1 size, +1 Dex, +4 natural +3 AC), touch 10, flat-footed 16
BAB/Grapple +3/+11
Attack: 2 hooves +6 melee (1d6+4) and bite +1 melee (1d4+2)
Special Qualities: Low-light vision, scent
Abilities: Str 18, Dex 13, Con 17, Int 2, Wis 13, Cha 6
Skills/feats: Listen +5, Spot +4 / Endurance, Run

Gromnir (Wintery Huskie) - Level 3 companion
27/29 hp (4HD) Init +3 Speed 40 ft Fort +7, Ref +7, Will +2
AC 21 (+3 Dex, +6 natural +2 armour), touch 12, flat-footed 18
BAB/Grapple +3/+6
Full Attack: Bite +6 melee (1d8+4 + Trip (+3))
Special Qualities: Low-light vision, scent
Abilities: Str 16, Dex 16, Con 16, Int 2, Wis 12, Cha 6
Skills: Jump +9, Listen +6, Spot +6, Swim +4, Survival +2/6*
Feats: Alertness, Track, Improved Natural attack (bite) / Link, Share spells, Evasion

[Riggdgames]

Roland
AC 21; HP 34/36
Steely Resolve: 3 (delayed damage pool)
Fort: +6, Reflex: +3, Will: +1
Stance: Iron Guard's Glare
Condition: Filth Fever (Incubation 1 day)

Roland's own shout is mindless as the rat's teeth find purchase, echoing none of the wisdom of his dwarven friend, nor the intelligent hysterics of his favorite gnome. Turning the shout of pain into a roar of defiance, Roland brings down the hammer. He didn't have his friend's confidence that this would all be over soon, but Firekeeper damn him if he wasn't going to do everything in his power to make it so.


Standard action: Furious counterstrike (+1 attack/dmg)
Maul attack on E5 Rat: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Prepare to use Shield Block as an Immediate Action off-turn for whoever I can protect.


As an immediate action, you can grant an AC bonus to an adjacent ally equal to your shield's AC bonus + 4. You apply this bonus in response to a single melee or ranged attack that targets your ally. You can initiate this maneuver after an opponent makes his attack roll, but you must do so before you know whether the attack was a success or a failure.



Furious Counterstrike (Ex): You can channel the pain of your injuries into a boiling rage that lets you lash out at your enemies with renewed vigor and power. Each attack that strikes you only pushes you onward to greater glory. During your turn, you gain a bonus on attack rolls and damage rolls equal to the current value of your delayed damage pool (see steely resolve, above) divided by 5, and rounding down (minimum +1).

[Saintheart]

Early Afternoon, Day 2
Complication Pool: 3 of 6

Njal swung again and missed another rat, but Stormrir once more proved his worth, the big horse's hooves squelching one, then two, then three rats flat. Roland roared his rage to the screaming wind and lashed out with his maul, catching another rat mid-air as it leapt at him, shattering its body.

Whether it was the death or the big man's yell, that seemed to be enough for the vermin. The remainder of the rat pack broke, scurrying in all directions, disappearing into the white world and the flurries of snow blown by the wind. They left behind only the four adventurers, scraped and likely suffering from the dreadful creatures' diseases, in a small circle of red spatters and brown corpses. They had, it seemed, survived.

It was as Roland began to turn towards his companions that he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. The rats had ambushed his group between two long, fallen trunks of trees that could have been there for decades or more judging by their look and the quantity of snow left on them. At some point in the midst of the fighting, the snow below one of the trunks had fallen away to expose a hidden hollow beneath it. It looked wide enough and stable enough for him - or any human-sized person, really -- to take a look below it, given the hollow didn't seem to be empty.

That's 500 XP each, guys. Well done, albeit there's hitpoint damage on most people and everyone except Njal now has filth fever incubating away...

[Toliudar]

Verglas Ulizgrant


Crap. I accidentally edited this post instead of copying it. Verglas healed herself for 5 points and complained at length about the rats.

Verglas Ulizgrant (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2191652)
Female Lawful Neutral Ice Gnome Wizard (Transmuter), Level 3, Init 2, HP 12/20, Speed 20'
AC 17, Touch 13, Flat-footed 15, Fort 5, Ref 4, Will 3, Base Attack Bonus 1
Light Crossbow (10) +4 (1d6, 19-20)
Quarterstaff +0 (1d4-2, x2)
Mage Armour (+2 Dex, +1 Size)
Abilities Str 6, Dex 14, Con 16, Int 18, Wis 8, Cha 12
Condition Endure Elements
Diseased

[Riggdgames]

Roland
AC 21; HP 31/36
Steely Resolve: 0 (delayed damage pool)
Fort: +6, Reflex: +3, Will: +1
Stance: Iron Guard's Glare
Condition: Filth Fever (Incubation 1 day)

Roland could feel the satisfying crunch of a solid blow before the other rats started to scurry away, disappearing into the snow. Turning back to his companions, Roland recognizes the hollow as Verglas asks if any of them need assistance.

"I'm alright, Verglas," Roland says, grimacing slightly as he looks down at the small cuts and scratches plaguing him, "Njal? Maxis? Are you both okay?" Roland looks over at Ember, stroking the horse's mane and quickly checking her for bites or blood. For a moment Roland feels that familiar pull from the Firekeeper, pushing him towards Verglas' healing magics even as he looks on his companions who took more punishment than him. He hesitates for several moments, frown deepening as he tries to understand, but in the end he shrugs off Her pull. Let Verglas heal the others with whatever magic she has left.

Before announcing its presence, Roland steps up to the hollow carefully and peers down into it, seeking whatever is filling that space.


Search: [roll0]
Spot: [roll1]

[DrK]

Njal

Njal breaths a sigh of relief and drops from the horse to the now blood and rat ridden snow. "Aye, a bit bitten, both me and Stormrir had some some bites off that swarm. Hateful creatures." He stomps on a few of them to make sure they are dead and then follows Roland towards the tree stumps, scratching at the itchy little cuts wear the horrid vermin had bitten and clawed at him.

"WHat have we got here, lets hope it nae be the lass we were looking fer."

[Toliudar]

]Verglas Ulizgrant

Verglas uses the rest of her magic to help Njal and Maxis staunch their wounds. As the others investigate the hollow, Verglas is content to stay on horseback, crossbow tightly held, watching for the possible return of the demon rats.

If we're hasing Maxis out, or she isn't actually hurt too badly, Verglas will redirect healing to Stormrir.
Healing Njal: [roll0]
Healing Maxis: [roll1]

Verglas Ulizgrant (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2191652)
Female Lawful Neutral Ice Gnome Wizard (Transmuter), Level 3, Init 2, HP 12/20, Speed 20'
AC 17, Touch 13, Flat-footed 15, Fort 5, Ref 4, Will 3, Base Attack Bonus 1
Light Crossbow (10) +4 (1d6, 19-20)
Quarterstaff +0 (1d4-2, x2)
Mage Armour (+2 Dex, +1 Size)
Abilities Str 6, Dex 14, Con 16, Int 18, Wis 8, Cha 12
Condition Endure Elements
Diseased

[Saintheart]

Early Afternoon, Day 2
Complication Pool: 3 of 6

Before Verglas could move to touch her, Maxis shook her head, pushing the gnome's hand away. If Verglas looked much closer, even with the flying snow and the wind, she would have noticed the cleric's hands trembling. "Hold onto your reserves, gnome. The Firekeeper will see to these wounds."

And Maxis pulled out the Wand she'd been carrying with her, touching the small black rod to each of the injured in turn.

Rule 4 charges from Maxis's Wand of Cure Light Wounds are enough to bring the party back up to full hitpoint strength, including the horses - no need for Verglas to expend any charges from her Healing Belt. It doesn't do anything about the filth fever, unfortunately.

A few feet away, Roland and Njal were inspecting the hollow below the tree branch. The big crusader carefully lay down, craning his neck to the hollow's entrance and brushing away a little more snow.

Well, he had an answer now for Verglas's earlier question about why a pack of dire rats had decided to spring an ambush on them here in the middle of nowhere. He'd found, it seemed, a literal rat's nest. And something more.

Decades of snow had fallen on the Valley of the Spear; over time, some of it had formed hardpack, enough to build white walls capable of holding some weight. That said, if Roland's estimation about where they were was right, they'd actually been lucky Njal hadn't walked much further before the rats attacked. The hollow they'd seen in the snow was actually more of a miniature ice cavern; there was an open space a good thirty by thirty feet and maybe fifteen feet high, visible from the glow of light through the snow's hardpack and the hole they'd made during the fight. Such spaces were usually relatively safe to explore for short periods of time, provided one didn't damage the roof. By and large, the longer a space like this existed in Horizon, the longer they tended to exist.

The hollow seemed to have formed around an ancient roadside shrine of some kind, though of course any original road was buried under decades of falling snow. At the far end of the open space there was a grey, rounded standing stone the size of a small obelisk, with a little alcove carved into the...

Five gods. This had been a roadside shrine to the Firekeeper. The alcove was a representation of a smith's hearth. And the reason the rats had chosen here was apparent, too. Lying before the shrine were the remains of four bodies, which the rats had nested in and presumably fed on over time. The clothing had been long shredded or chewed, but the rats hadn't yet eaten down the bones ... and even from here it was apparent that two of the skeletons were adult-sized, two were small, the size of preadolescent children. Long decades ago, they had died here, by the Firekeeper's own shrine.

It was as Roland shifted his position ever so slightly that he saw it: something had been left on top of the hearth's carving. Something that wasn't made of stone, something that had the look of a large hammer. A hammer which hadn't been touched by dust or grime, and which the rats seemed to have left alone.

[Toliudar]

Verglas

Verglas gratefully accepts Maxis' offered healing. She is blissfully unaware of the corruption now percolating away in her blood stream - and wouldn't know what to do about it, if she did know.

"Thanks very much I had no idea that rats bites could hurt so bloody much do you think that they might come back I mean we've displaced them from their home right? That's what the boys are poking around in right now, right a literal rat's nest. I always think of rats as an urban phenomenon but they're survivors for certain so I guess it makes sense for them to be able to establish a toehold even in such extraordinary places as this."

Not trusting her ability to convince the horse to move as desired, she simply waits on its back and points her crossbow at shifting shadows on the snowscape. Verglas does however call forward to Roland and Njal.

"How's it going, guys? Not to be pushing too hard, but if there were any bloody daylight we'd be losing it right now and I somehow doubt that we're going to be lucky enough to find a friendly faerie cabin two nights in a row."

[Riggdgames]

Roland
AC 21; HP 31/36
Steely Resolve: 0 (delayed damage pool)
Fort: +6, Reflex: +3, Will: +1
Stance: Iron Guard's Glare
Condition: Filth Fever (Incubation 1 day)

Shifting his position to get a better look, Roland suddenly feels a touch of warmth even as he lays flat in the snow. "By Her flame," Roland breathes, heart hammering in his chest. Looking on the faithful family's final rest and the shrine built in Her name, Roland mutters a prayer to Her for them before answering Verglas.

"They made a home of Her shrine. A shrine to the Firekeeper," Roland explains, eyes finding and staring at the hammer for a few moments before he pushes himself up. Roland is already rifling through his pack, pulling the rope and his crampons free when he stops in his tracks. Two grown, and two small. He hesitates a moment, frowning down at the snow before looking up at Verglas' small form astride Ember, and then over to Njal. The dwarf could hardly be called small. Their numbers matched, but this was no ill-omen.

Roland closes his eyes, searching for a flicker of inspiration from Her, but if She's saying anything, Roland can't hear Her over Gromnir's panting. Taking just a moment longer to think, Roland settles on his course. A hammer of the Red Lady's should not languish in the cold snow. Leading Ember, and by extension Verglas, a few more feet away from the opening, Roland explains further, "you're right Verglas, we need to be going right away. But I do need to renew my pledge and seek out Her hammer. Such a shrine should not be ignored. Njal, will you and Stomrir help me?"

Roland hands the rope to Njal if he is willing and carefully tries to climb down into the cavern without disturbing its foundation.


For some reason this feels unwise, which is pretty much why Roland has to do it. Maybe it's fine.

Climb: [roll0]

[Saintheart]

Early Afternoon, Day 2
Complication Pool: 3 of 6

Before Njal had a chance to hold the rope, Maxis strode across and took Roland's weight as he began to rappel down into the hollow. "If you truly have found a shrine to the Firekeeper, then no man who follows her need fear any harm within."

Roland's climb down was straightforward enough, and the hardpack of the snow and ice wall was enough to support him.

I interpret that careful climb down as a take 10. :)

Reaching the floor of the hollow a few moments later, Roland took a look around.

There was enough light to see by the reflected illumination bouncing around the snow walls. The smell wasn't anywhere as bad as he might have expected; decades under the snow seemed to have frozen the odours as well as the scene.

And, coming closer to the sad little scene at the far end of the hollow, his expectations were altered once again. The hammer lying on the little carving of the hearth wasn't merely a hammer. It was larger; had a thicker haft; a different shape.

A maul.

And at this distance, he could now see that not only was there, inexplicably, not a spot of dust, nor even rust, on the weapon, but it had the look of exquisite crafting. Roland's forte was more with armor than weapons, but he'd been in enough smithies and armouries to know quality when he saw it. Even without picking it up the crusader could tell this weapon was easily the equal in crafting to his own weapon. Surprisingly, the weapon didn't seem to have any obvious signs of a dedication to the Firekeeper on it, but then perhaps the person who had laid this weapon to rest here was more interested in deeds than ornamentation.

That is, Roland can see the maul is a masterwork weapon at least.

[Riggdgames]

Roland
AC 21; HP 31/36
Steely Resolve: 0 (delayed damage pool)
Fort: +6, Reflex: +3, Will: +1
Stance: Iron Guard's Glare
Condition: Filth Fever (Incubation 1 day)

Roland smiles warmly on Maxis, grateful for her strength and her words. Sniffing the air once he's reached the bottom, he's doubly grateful for a weak nose, though he can tell the stench is not near as bad as it could be.

"Firekeeper guide their way, see them home to your hearth," Roland prays, kneeling at the shrine after approaching the family. As he examines the hammer, he can see the craftsmanship clearly enough, but the lack of rust surrounded by all this snow puzzles him. Roland can't tell if it's divine or imagined, but a gentle tug nudges him forward. He picks up the maul, feeling its weight in his gauntleted hand, and caresses it with the other. No ornament or intricate design could be more beautiful than a flawless weapon meant to save lives by taking others. Roland gives it a test-swing, still at the bottom of the cavern surrounded by ice and all the trappings of a rat's nest.


Thanks for offering the take 10, I will follow suit and take 10 on the way back up if that's still an option. If not, I'll roll just in case to keep from holding things up.

Climb: [roll0]

[Saintheart]

Early Afternoon, Day 2
Complication Pool: 3 of 6

The weapon proved just as exquisite in its balance and swing as it did in its appearance.

Concluding his business in the hollow, Roland shinnied his way back up the rope, leaving the dead to their rest.

[Riggdgames]

Roland
AC 21; HP 31/36
Steely Resolve: 0 (delayed damage pool)
Fort: +6, Reflex: +3, Will: +1
Stance: Iron Guard's Glare
Condition: Filth Fever (Incubation 1 day)

"Sorry for the diversion," Roland says, pulling the new hammer free from his belt now that he's finished climbing, "but it would not be proper to leave such a beautiful hammer out in the cold, nor pass by Her shrine without offering a prayer." Roland nods to Maxis, handing her the weapon and allowing her a chance to examine it for herself, knowing full well she would appreciate its simple beauty. "Can you believe it? This poor creature probably spent years in that rat's nest, but she's not got a mote of dust nor a touch of rust on her," Roland says, unable to suppress a childish grin of delight. A cold wind slaps the smile off his face, reminding him of the hard miles they'd left to cover that day.

"As you said Verglas," Roland admits, breath steaming in the cold, "it's past time we got moving again." Taking back the hammer, Roland walks over to Ember and pauses for a moment, puzzling over how to mount her without knocking Verglas aside. Finally he pulls himself and all his armor up, swinging his leg over Ember's tail and riding behind Verglas in the saddle. "I hadn't thought it before, Verglas, but you might've seen those furry devils first if you weren't starin' at my back. Not much to look at, that. Shall we?" Roland asks the others.

[Toliudar]

Verglas

Verglas hesitantly finds a new position of approximate comfort in front of Roland on the saddle. She initially tries to juggle her loaded crossbow across her knees, but soon gives up, disengages the bolt and stores everything away again.

"That was an extraordinarily brave thing to do crawling down into that rat warren there could ahve been dozens more of those awful things It's an interesting thing In the language of my people the same word lenmeelink means both brave and well not exactly stupid that's not the right word short sighted no you humans have too many different words for things It's closer to the idea of taking others along with you if you know what I mean All of which is to say that if you like I could take a look at that shiny hammer when we stop next I may be able to provide some insights into whatever is keeping it so very shiny after all those years."

[Riggdgames]

Roland

Roland listens with a confused half-smile to the gnome as he's grown accustomed to doing in their short time together. Frowning for a few beats as he tries to mentally catch up after she finishes speaking, Roland finally recognizes her offer for what it is. "I would be grateful for that Verglas. I've never seen anything quite like it," he says, lifting the hammer back out of his belt with one hand while the other holds Ember's reins. "If I hadn't seen that cavern with my own eyes, I would've told you someone placed this hammer in there last night."

Roland pauses for a moment, puzzling over the hammer, Her shrine, and the family below. "There was a family down there too, Verglas," Roland says quietly, "huddled together in death at the Firekeeper's shrine. I wonder who they were. Why they were out here," Roland says, gesturing to the barren valley around them, pausing again for a moment as he thinks about it.

"I'll be in your debt if you can help me understand the hammer," Roland continues, placing it back in his belt, "but I wish there was time to understand those people better." Glancing down at Verglas briefly, Roland says, "Once the Lady Lyssa is safely in her father's keep and there's been time to warm my bones by a good hearth, I should like to come back and find them again. The Red Lady has always given me more questions than answers, but of all the trails we could have taken to find the lost Hardwalker, we stumbled across Her candlemen and now we've driven those vermin from Her shrine. We've been guided this way, Verglas. It wasn't bravery that drove me down into that hole, it was Her. When Lyssa's need is not so urgent, I will come back someday and try to understand why the Firekeeper guided them here."

[Toliudar]

Verglas

Verglas nodded, now that such was a functional way to communicate with Roland again. There were many in her clanhome who had believed in a divine plan. That the Father or Mother - or the Red Lady - carefully influenced events to ensure that a certain course of action comes to pass. She supposed that it helped people envision a course of action for themselves. Since there seemed to be no persuasive way to confirm or refute such solipsism, it was generally best to accept the assertions at face value.

"Indeed I hope that the Lady smiles on your efforts on your return but I for one am looking forward for a week curled up and by a fire once this is over."

[Riggdgames]

Nodding despite the fact that it wasn't an effective form of communication anymore, Roland clicks his tongue and gently urges Ember forward. "I could certainly use some time to thaw after we find our way back to Hardwalker Hall," Roland starts, smile fading as he thinks about the cold days ahead. "Even if I did want to come back right away, with that Gravewind bearing down there won't be a soul left in the valley save those on their way to meet the gods."

Bringing Ember up beside Stormrir, Roland turns to Njal. "Ready to carry on?"

[DrK]

Njal

The dwarf is happy to help the Firekeeper cleric shimmy down and then be towed back up out of the snow cavern by the massive horse with is now healed wounds. He looks at he hammer with an appraising eye. "A fine weapon, forged in the best of flames and crafted with great skill. Not many could be doing such work in the town ships now." He pats Roland on the shoulder, "Firekeeper be blessing you Roland. Take the hammer as a sign you be on the right path."

Looking down sadly at the four bodies huddled together he shakes his head sadly, "The lands are cruel, winter is harsh. gods bless those who fall in the snow and ice." He nods towards the path onwards, "Aye, Verglas, we had best get moving. It'll do ill for us if we are caught out in the nigh again and the poor lass is on her own for longer."

Mounting up the horse he looks to the others and nods towards the path they were following, "Can't be that many more rats in the snow"

[Toliudar]

Verglas

Verglas looks across at Njal as they come alongside each other for conversation. If only she were more warmly dressed, so that it would be more difficult to see her eyebrows shoot up.

"Can't be that many more rats? I had no idea that the number of snow-abiding giant florking rats might be numbered above zero to begin with, and now you're telling us that we should expect a modest but non-zero number of additional rats? Perhaps we could turn this into a game in which we try to guess the number of other horrifying predators lurking under the snow in indefinite numbers higher than zero Perhaps we have only a handful of remorhazes in the snow ahead of us, and a number between zero and two of white dragons and a definitely small number of furry purple florking worms. Well, at least you have the gnome to fling into the maw of the next predator to distract them."

She strains to turn around to address Roland more directly.

"This would be a not-terrible example of why I 'joke' about us all dying It's not hard to imagine it in a landscape in which everything is bloody well trying to kill us."

[Riggdgames]

"Aye, my thanks Njal. With Her help, we'll find the Lady and get back to Hardwalker's hall before the gravewind can come bearing down." Roland can't help smiling with real joy in his eyes at the dwarf's words. Few things were as pleasing to him as feeling like he was following a path laid out for him by the Firekeeper herself. Adding the fact that his time in dwarven lands had taught him to hold Njal's people in high esteem when it came to forging weapons and armor, and Roland couldn't help feeling his spirits rise.

"Even so," Roland says, his face turning serious, "no one's tossing anyone into the maw of the next predator. Certainly not when you're in the business of helping keep me alive. I'm not sure what that gold-dust spell was, but I have a hard time slowing down more than one rat at a time with my hammer," he continues, glancing down at his gnome companion.

"Have faith, Verglas. The Red Lady guides our path and watches our progress. I believe we've seen the last of those rats. She only brought us here to cleanse her shrine and grab her instrument. No doubt she will guide us safely towards the girl from here."

[Novabomb]

Ramiro Sanda smiles at Roland's optimism, and presses on, seeming to float on top of the snow.

[Saintheart]

Late afternoon, Day 2
Complication Pool: 4 of 6

The adventurers pressed on northwest once more, Njal again taking the lead on Stormrir's back with Gromnir trotting next to him. The wind mercilessly taunted them by slackening in strength intermittently before resuming its force, blowing still from the southwest, sending waves of light snow ripping across the group. Ramiro's red hair danced like a flame in the breeze, though sadly it brought no warmth; once again the group was thankful for the enchantments of Endure Elements which had been cast on their group, keeping the ferocity of the cold out.

The snow on the ground was growing noticeably thicker the further they pressed north and the mountains of the Spear grew larger. While Ramiro was having a relatively easy time of it, the remainder of the adventurers had to thrash through heavier and heavier drifts of snow and pick up their feet more carefully as the miles and the day wore on, and the horses were expressing horsely displeasure at this turn of events.

The road brought them down into a wide, long depression where piney trees dotted the dell. The deep green of the trees was limned with snow caked on every branch, and the snow here was as deep as they'd found it thus far. On the north side of the dell, something of a natural rock wall had emerged, and maybe less than a hundred feet ahead there seemed to be a deep shadow on the rock wall that might have suggested a cave of some kind.

It was some instinct, or perhaps the whispering of the Spirits, that caused Njal to turn in his saddle, thirty feet ahead of the party. Looking back, he was appalled to realise that, a good twenty feet south of his companions, a heaped patch of snow didn't look like it should. Because it wasn't snow. Not when the snow uncurled a long, furry tail and blinked with fierce eyes, standing from its hidden position, snow falling from its body. The size, tone, and features of the creature were unmistakeable: that was a sabercat, a massive, saber-toothed creature that the Hardwalkers had domesticated and used as riding mounts; if Njal remembered right, Lyssa had taken two of them in her flight from the Hall. Could this creature have been one of them? There were perhaps more imminent concerns, given this one was clearly planning on doing something pretty shortly.

It was, to say the least, fortunate that the young monk's hearing was good. There was a noise as of heaped snow falling, and when he looked to the south, he suddenly saw a large, cat-like creature rising from its hiding place, snow falling from its massive, white flanks, no more than 20 feet from the party. This had to be a sabercat, of the same kind the Hardwalkers had domesticated; Lyssa had taken two of them, but there probably wasn't time right at this moment to work out whether this was one of them...

What do you do?

[Toliudar]

Verglas

As soon as Roland started to rein in the horse-thing, Verglas peered ahead into the white-on-white. She didn't quite see the big deal, but if the others did, well, who knew? Expecting the worst, she dug her little crossbow out of her backpack and began struggling with the physics of loading the crossbow while perched on a saddle horn.

[Novabomb]

Ramiro Sanda
Are any of you good with Cats? (Points)

[Riggdgames]

Roland
AC 21; HP 36/36
Steely Resolve: 0 (delayed damage pool)
Fort: +6, Reflex: +3, Will: +1
Stance: Iron Guard's Glare
Condition: Filth Fever (Incubation 1 day)

Puzzled, Roland starts to answer before looking over to the monk. "Can't say that I am. Friend of mine had a couple growing up, but I always got the sneezes around them whenever--"

Following Ramiro's finger, Roland finally catches sight of the creature and instinctively tightens his hold on Ember's reins. A sabercat. It didn't much matter if that belonged to the Lady Hardwalker or not, that thing was never meant to be someone's pet. Patting Ember gently, Roland sizes up the situation and decides they wouldn't be making a run for it. Not with one too few horses. Maybe with some luck they could back away real slow, and it would leave them well enough alone.

Roland slides down off Ember and gets ready to put himself between the cat and his companions should it come to that. "Nice and easy now," Roland says quietly, trying to motion Ramiro back and pull Ember away from the sabercat.

[Novabomb]

Ramiro Sanda scared off a pack of wolves yesterday, he fears no lone cat. He does not want to hurt it in case it is domesticated though. He backs away slowly but prepares to meet its pounce with flame.

Move back 10 ft, Std action, ready Hatchlings flame manuver if it pounces at us.

[Toliudar]

Verglas

Verglas tilts her head, considering.

"That boulder is a cat? And we're sure it's not dead? Well, no harm in trying to talk with it."

Without leaving the saddle, Verglas clears her throat and yells out a greeting in a strange, high-pitched series of tones that seems to be less a language than a series of emotions given a crystalline voice.

"Hey! No bitey-slashy please we're looking for a human girl and boy who rode big cats out from a hall three days ago."

Verglas is trying to use her Speak with Arctic Animals ability. If it's working, Diplomacy [roll0]

[DrK]

Njal

Squinting into the snow and wind the dwarf pauses, eyes narrowing behind thick bushy eyebrows before he slips from the saddle, shield held close and tiger skull club dangling held low. He whistles softly to Gromrir and the white wolf pads beside him as he waves a hand to the others. "AYe, tis a Sabre, a big 'un."

"Let's see if we can calm her down, nae fight with this big kitty would be best." Walking towards the cat slowly he starts murmuring comforting words in the strange druidic tongue seeking to calm it down...



Wild empathy [roll0] Or Handle animal [roll1] whichever is most appropriate

[Saintheart]

Late afternoon, Day 2
Complication Pool: 4 of 6

The creature appeared to have been surprised by Verglas's noises, and it straightened from its posture that looked a lot like preparing for a pounce. That movement gave Njal enough time to get within thirty feet, and began murmuring in his strange tongue. Now the sabercat's attention turned fully to Njal, and the massive animal cocked its head for a moment as it listened.

Eventually, it gave a noise something like an oversized hrmph, followed by a series of low-ended snorts ending in a low, rumbling sort of snarl.

Well, so far so good; the sabercat didn't seem to care that much one way or the other about the party now. Or at least it didn't seem ready to try and eat them right this moment, anyway.

The creature's communication was actually pretty clear. You get out my territory, for a start. If want go through, give food. If not want either, you die. Of course, the first thing that any reasonable wanting-to-live-longer-than-the-next-ten-seconds gnome might want to know was exactly how big a sabercat's territory was. Working out what it probably wanted for food wasn't likely to be quite as hard a question, and the prospect of winding up dead seemed pretty simple.

[Riggdgames]

Roland

At the barrage of strange tongues emanating from his two companions, Roland freezes in the snow, holding in place and looking to Ramiro next, half expecting the young man to burst into birdsong. He glances back at the sabercat as it snarls at them, pulling out his hammer slowly as he anticipates a charge at any moment.

"Verglas? Njal?" Roland asks without looking away from the sabercat, "what's happening?"

[Toliudar]

Verglas

Taking in the cat's body language, Verglas is surprisingly dispassionate when she responds.

"Well the good news is that this isn't the sabrecat that Lady Lyssa rode in on but the bad news is that this isn't the sabrecat that Lady Lyssa rode in on It is however extremely hungry and seems to be offering three very clear and thoughtful alterntative courses of actions for us to pursue We could feed it something and I think we can safely assume it is not of the carrot and barley soup persuasion we can turn around and get the hell away right away or we can die here."

She took a breath.

"All things considered the brevity and precision of her language is actually quite refreshing You humans do have a tendancy to run on and on in your speech sometimes."

[Novabomb]

Ramiro Sanda
Do any of you have spare cat food?

[Riggdgames]

Roland

"Alas, I do not," Roland says, his eyes fixed on the overly large cat now that it's form is clear. "Do you think it'll accept a bit of salt-pork and frozen biscuit instead?"

"Talking is good Verglas, keep it talking if ever you can," he continues. "If it is using its mouth for that it is not using its mouth for other things." Turning his attention back to the others, he asks. "Njal, is that a cave up ahead? Do you think we can offer it enough to keep it busy for just a minute? Maybe we can take shelter in there and at least keep it at bay?"

[Toliudar]

Verglas

The gnome shrugs.

"I'll do my best to keep it talking but who knows how long before its patience will run out."

Turning back to the huge cat, Verglas rattles options around in her head while her mouth is already starting to make strange noises again.

"You are in luck masterful beast for we can indeed offer a sample of food now and an entire side of pork when we return this way in after four sleeps Surely oh lordly creature this is worth more than the dangers involved in trying to face off against seven creatures armed with pointy things For these are pack creatures who will not abandon one of their own So you might indeed kill two or three of us but all seven is going to be pretty chancy."

Attempting an aid another on any further diplomacy by Njal: [roll0].

[Saintheart]

Late afternoon, Day 2
Complication Pool: 4 of 6

The sabercat's eyes narrowed, and it shifted position slightly.
But it still didn't move forward.
For now.
It just started making noises again.

The sabercat was speaking to her, and it snorted again. "Seven? I see two standing-men and two half-standing-men, two horses, and a weedy would-be wolf. You could be twice that number and you'll still be dead if you go another step without providing me something. I'll make sure to save you for last if it comes to that. Turn over what you've got for me to eat, now, and then we'll decide whether you live to sunset."

Even so, Verglas could tell the sabercat was bluffing. He wasn't nearly as confident of killing all of them as he made himself out to be. Which didn't mean, of course, that he couldn't kill all of them, he was a good ten feet long and more or less what the Five Gods seemed to have in mind when they invented the word 'muscle.'

Verglas has a -1 on Sense Motive. Fortunately, the sabercat has 0 ranks in Bluff.

[Toliudar]

Verglas

Verglas murmurs back at Roland.

"Throw him the pork. Don't show what else you have."

Pushing her luck, beause that's what Verglas does, she returns to try to cement the deal with the sabrecat.

"Oh great cat, it would be most wise to save me for last because the other two-legs are fierce warriors and the wolf is well a bloody wolf and I saw the horses crush the skulls of giant rats giant f**king rats Oh if you're up for some carrion there are half a dozen giant f**king rats about an hour or so back the way we came."

[DrK]

Njal

As the gnome begins to speak with the cat Njal, pauses, a hand still on the club and the warmth of Gromrir's furry form beside him. He nods to Verglas, "Ye have better skills with the cat than I." Reaching into his pack he pulls out a chunk of meat that had been planned for Gromrir and looks at the gnome waiting for a nod before tossing the meat towards the cat.

Looking ahead he tries to spy the cave that was mentioned, squinting in the snow



Spot [roll0] +6

[Saintheart]

Late afternoon, Day 2
Complication Pool: 4 of 6

The sabercat sniffed the meat Njal had thrown to it, then raised its head again, a low growl rumbling from its throat.

"That's it?"

[Toliudar]

Verglas

Verglas glances back at Roland.

"It wants more so throw the pork unless you have a pound of catnip in your pack."

[Riggdgames]

Roland

"Catnip," Roland mutters in a huff, shaking his head and rummaging through his pack. He pulls out two full days worth of salt pork, leaving the remaining four days worth of hard biscuits he still had alone. He only feels bad for a few moments. Starving days from now felt like a small concern compared with being mauled today. Walking five feet closer to the great cat, Roland prepares to toss the pork to it, but a familiar tug stops him just before he can throw the dried meat.

"Verglas," he calls back to the gnome, trying to keep his voice steady without taking his eyes off the sabercat, "ask if it's seen two of its kin with a Lady come through here in the past few days. Just a quick question, then we'll go our separate ways. No bloodshed necessary and it gets a free meal or two out of the bargain, right?" Inching closer, Roland gulps as he tries to figure out whether he should appear non-threatening so it doesn't think he's trying anything or threatening so it doesn't think of him as part of the meal. "Nice kitty."


For the sake of keeping things going without neglecting this question, Roland tosses the food as soon as the question gets asked and answered, regardless of what the answer is or even if it's truthful. It's probably not going to yield anything, but I'd feel foolish if we didn't at least try to ask this intelligent creature if it made friends with Fluffy and Whiskers while Lyssa was traveling through. She probably didn't come this way, but it's worth a shot.

[Saintheart]

Late afternoon, Day 2
Complication Pool: 4 of 6

Taking a precious moment or two of time to not gaze at the imminent and pretty dangerous threat right in front of them, the dwarf could see there was, indeed, some sort of cave about fifty or sixty feet ahead. It looked large enough from this distance for a rider to enter it without having to duck his head, but its depth just wasn't estimable in the midst of the blowing snow, the declining light, and this far out.

Some part of him also was wondering what the outcome of this ... conversation ... with the sabercat was going to be. If they were in fact rejected and told to leave the creature's territory, it would be a not-insubstantial deviation from their path. Sabercats tended to be pretty wide-ranging, and a rogue male like this one (he couldn't see any sign that the beast had a pride, and its gender at least was easy enough to work out) could claim a ten-mile radius. Going around the creature's territory - which Njal figured he'd be able to do accurately now he knew to look for sabercat spoor and signs of it marking its terrain - would consume another good half day on their journey before they could resume course.

Sorry, DrK, I totally forgot to update you on the results of your Spot check.

[Toliudar]

Verglas

Verglas nods approvingly at her colleagues, and speaks sharply to the cat.

"Dread lord of all you survey That is all the meat you are getting now When we pass back this way, there will be more I'll make sure Now if you tell us what's in that cave and whether you've seen any twolegs riding sabrecats passing through your territory lately and especially if you happened to have eaten them then it will speed up the process of us getting out of your territory."

[Saintheart]

Late afternoon, Day 2
Complication Pool: 5 of 6

The sabercat's eyes narrowed further, if that were even possible.

"What's in that cave is of no interest to you, because you're going on and out of my territory without stopping to inspect things on the way. If, of course, you still plan on living until sunset." Its omission of details about the other subjects of Verglas's inquiry seemed deliberate in that, whether or not the sabercat had actually seen them, it didn't seem in the mood to gossip.

The Complication Pool rises to 5 of 6 because in my view it's kind of dangerous to speak sharply to a dangerous predator in these circumstances, even if the beast isn't sure whether or not he can take you all on. Flight and Fight are both primitive responses.

[Toliudar]

Verglas

Verglas, being an expert at pushing her luck, is all too familiar with the point at which people cross over from being annoyed with her to actually seeking to strike her.

"The cat doesn't want to talk about the cave Perhaps it sleeps there We should stop caring about that immediately and leave giving it a wide berth It will attack us in a few seconds if we do not."

[Riggdgames]

Roland

Between watching the sabercat's eyes and hearing the urgency in Verglas' tone combined, Roland tosses the salt pork towards the great cat like it had burned his fingers. Retreating slowly back a few steps without turning away from the sabercat, Roland answers Verglas. "We have pushed our luck far enough, haven't we?" he asks rhetorically, understanding all he needed from her tone.

Reaching back blindly for the reins, Roland finds Ember's mane and hangs onto her for a moment, taking a deep breath and then hopping back into the saddle. Looking at the others, Roland simply says, "let's get moving and get out of this thing's territory before nightfall. I don't know about the rest of you, but I don't plan on being desert."


Complication pool increase sounds fair. The person who said "it never hurts to ask" wasn't talking about asking a sabercat anything.

[Novabomb]

Ramiro Sanda
We could have taken him.....but you are right, it would have been a waste of time.

[Toliudar]

Verglas

Verglas looks over at Ramiro, at once admiring his confidence and not for a moment sharing it.

"Yes that was my primary concern as well Not that I might get my throat ripped out by a hungry predator twenty times my size but that it would significantly impact our schedule."

[DrK]

Njal

THe dwarf looks at the cave once more as they begin to move past the cat. "The cave is large enough for a rider, its intriguing. Did the cat say we could investigate? If not we may have to fight it." He looks more at the beast and narrows his gauge, before mounting up, and following the others.

[Toliudar]

Verglas

Verglas twists around to face Njal.

"The bloody cat invited us to investigate the inside of its stomach if we do anything but get right the hells away from here right bloody now."

[Riggdgames]

Roland

"The cave sounds like a nice spot to safeguard against the sabercat and the weather alike, but I don't mean to antagonize the beast further if we don't have to. Even one of us set back with a broken leg could spell death out here, and that one," Roland says, nodding back to the sabercat, "looks like it could do even worse to us if prompted. There's still some daylight left. I feel like I've got a craving for hard biscuits washed down with snow anywhere we can find to make camp that isn't already claimed by rats or cats."

[Novabomb]

Ramiro Sanda
The cave is too close, we have alot more distance to make up.

[DrK]

Njal

WIth an angry look at the massive cat, Njal snarls and pulls the horse around following Verglas and the others, a tickle of irritation about being chased away by the sabrecat brewing within him. "Come, lets us move fast then, and catch this foolish girl.", then under his breath, "Then I can get back to the mountains and away from these lowland passes".

He taps Stormrir's flanks and surges forward, maintaining a good trot. As the end of the day draws near he looks to the others. "I've me a my hut, it'll be snug but we can be fitting. The mounts can huddle under blankets outside."

[Saintheart]

Morning, Day 3
Complication Pool: 1 of 6

The adventurers turned warily from the sabercat, continuing their journey northeast. They passed the cave’s entrance on their left, the enticing shadows and height of the cave a tempting mistress spurned in the fierce lash of the wind, even if that same wind was pushing them onward. They made not a few backward-looking glances as they moved on and away from the beast’s territory, but the sabercat had disappeared a few moments after they began moving off again.

Nothing else assailed them during daylight. Njal was muttering under his breath about the sabercat and the cave for the next hour or so as he continued their march north and east, the mountains of the Spear still a good half day’s journey ahead of them. The day’s light went out surprisingly fast, though, and the sky had turned a bruised-looking purple behind angry grey clouds in the west when the dwarf finally called a halt and suggested they find a place to rest for the night.

He didn’t get much argument from the remaining three adventurers. Although they had no open wounds, the day had been hard going on them. Roland and Verglas in particular were developing dark circles under their eyes and Ember’s head was starting to droop. Ramiro looked to be in good shape, but then he was a young human. They had such energy, the dwarf reflected. Nor was Ember in much shape to carry on longer, given the horse was carrying two.

Njal took a quick reconnoiter and led the adventurers down into a small dip between two snow-covered hills. Spirits be thanked, there was a small, withered-looking copse of pine like a stand of spears on duty well after a snowstorm. It wasn’t exactly a cave, but at least it would form a decent set of supports for the portable hut he carried with him.

Njal left Roland and Verglas to set up the hut while he set about channelling Ramiro’s energy; dwarf and man dug out a six-foot-high brem from the foot-deep snow, making a windbreak for the horses. It took them well after twilight to finish off, but it corralled the beasts nicely and provided further shielding from the wind for the portable hut. Njal told Ramiro to head inside and eat something while the dwarf began his watch, the night swallowing up mountains, stars, clouds, snow, everything. All that was left was the wind as it keened and wailed through the dying pine trees. So it was in the lowlands. The dwarf absently patted Gromrir’s fuzzy head as the husky trotted in and curled itself up within the brem.

Inside the small tent, Verglas had settled in to her bed. She had some sort of sniffle and her throat felt a little raw.

Her attention was drawn to the great, oversized hammer that Roland had recovered from the Firekeeper’s shrine. The rest of the day she hadn’t had a chance to look properly at it, but the big man had laid the weapon down beside the cot he rested on, and she finally had the opportunity to consider it close-up.

And immediately she could see why, exposed to the elements, it had not a spot of rust on it. The telltale of magic was all over the maul, from the just-so angles of the lines engraved into its head to the almost-imperceptible hum her gnomish ears could detect from it. A maul that wanted to be wielded, in some primitive way; a maul that promised its wielder greater prowess in battle. The engraving on the sides of the maul’s head were of triangles and pentagons, and that convinced her: the weapon might be decades old, but she had seen enough such tools at the Mountain during her brief – too brief – apprenticeship. This was a magic weapon.

Specifically, it’s a +1 maul.

The night wind rose with the darkness, and howled louder. But the roughness of the weather and the fact the adventurers set no fires seemed to guarantee that nothing disturbed their rest, and the night passed with fitful whomps and fa-whomps as the linen of the portable hut billowed and snapped with the impact of the wind.

Daylight brought new issues.

Verglas and Roland were burning up. Which was to say, their skin felt as though it were next to a campfire even though the air was just as cold as yesterday. Every movement brought aches from the joints. It was difficult for either of them to turn out of their cots to meet the day, though it came, cold and clear and windy as always, snow flying endlessly from the southwest.


Salient things:
- Each member of the party gains 450 XP from the encounter with the sabercat.

- For ease of calculation, filth fever is deemed to kick in as from now for Roland and Verglas.
- Roland takes 3 DEX and 3 CON damage as of now.
- Verglas takes 2 DEX and 1 CON damage as of now.
- Remember this does heal naturally assuming 8 hours’ rest at a rate of 1 point of damage per ability score, or at 2 per full 24 hour period assuming full rest. Successful Heal checks can also double these rates, but still require 8 hours’ rest in a day or 24 hours respectively.

- Previously-cast Endure Elements spells are all expiring right about now.
- Wind remains blowing from the southwest as it was yesterday.
- The temperature remains at Severe Cold levels, i.e. somewhere south of -20 F. For completion protection against the elements, level 2 protection is required. On that score, to recap:
--- Ember and Stormrir have level 1 protection even with Fullcloth.
--- Gromnir is safe at level 2 since he’s a husky and he has a fur coat.
--- Njal is at level 3 protection from his race and from his cold weather gear and fur clothing.
--- Verglas is at level 1 protection with only a cold weather outfit.
--- Roland is at level 2 protection with cold weather outfit and fur clothing.
--- Ramiro is at level 1 protection with only a cold weather outfit.

- Njal has a wand of Endure Elements with 10 charges left.
- Roland has a wand of Endure Elements with 10 charges left (we’ll assume he kept the three wands he otherwise was giving to Maxis.)
- Roland is also carrying a spare cold weather outfit and spare fur clothing.

[Toliudar]

Verglas

The Gnome spends much of the evening fighting the fever-chills and staring at the Maul. After an hour or so, so shrugs, and slides it off of her lap.

"Well it's definitely magic but unless the enchantments are too subtle even for a gnome then it's not specifically attuned to the fire keeper or anything like that sorry to disappoint but it' not going to summon a pillar of fire for you or anything like that Still I'm sure you'll find it quite handy in fighting off the yetis and the polar bears that will doubtless be coming for us today."

She wakes feeling awful, but says nothing as she stares at her book, forcing magic into a pain-fogged mind. Only when Njal warns that he is taking down the hut does she cast her protective magics.

Verglas can take care of her own Endure Elements and for one other - maybe one of the horses? And then if Ramiro can put on the spare furs, we're down one more.

[Saintheart]

Morning, Day 3
Complication Pool: 1 of 6


Pain, so an old elven proverb had supposedly gone, is the crucible of perfection.

It was somewhere in the midst of her memorisation of her spells, with elbows aching and her spine feeling like it had grown spines poking through the skin of her back, that she realised what Roland's maul actually was.

The thought took her back to the Mountain.

Even now the image that connected with the place she had trained was the same, and undeniable: a great, brown-black mesa rising above the plain of southern Chalice, crowned with a red glow and wisps of smoke. She had never seen it other than from the base of the great volcano; the prentice schools nestled at the foot of the southern slope, a collection of tiny stone buildings half-burrowed into the ground. The places of higher learning were the Colleges. Journeyman mages went there once they had the exorbitant funds (and more) to pay the price for more powerful magicks of the seven authorised schools. The Colleges stood were on the mountainside themselves, seven small stone-built villages wound around the volcano's slopes and on opportune crags, seven distinct styles of architecture, all connected by a series of trails cut into the igneous rock from foot to head. It was said magic partially kept the seven Colleges in their places on the mountainsides - just as it was said it took a constant stream of magic, day by day, to keep the Mountain's fiery caldera from erupting and consuming the entire discipline of magic as known and controlled on the face of Horizon.

The apprentice school, however, was also adjacent to a reasonably decent library, and also adjacent to the Mountain's foundries - where the overwhelming majority of magical weapons across Horizon of minor magic were made. There were greater forges, further up the Mountain, and it was said the greatest forge, the one reserved for the most puissant of weaponry, stood on the very lip of the volcano's caldera. Apprentices who came to the Mountain were often indentured to work in the foundries as part of their payment for learning. For a brief time, Verglas had been one of those people.

But even in foundries could one gain knowledge. Particularly that of knowledge related to elves, since every ambitious lord across the face of the continent (and on the Archipelagos, for that matter) wanted to know the secret of magical weaponry, and the elves certainly knew magic. So it was that, in a break, Verglas had a chance to leaf through one of the armormaster's thick, linen-bound tomes, those great indices that tried to keep a log of which weaponmaster had created what item and when. Delsander the Great's innovations figured prominently, of course. But even the odd back-country blacksmith was sometimes named in the tome if they chanced on a technique that made steel stronger. And, on one yellowing page, Verglas happened across the smith named Kesandra of the Mountain. She'd been commissioned to build a weapon for a historian interested in elven arts, which was to say she was commissioned by someone barely tolerated in polite company and had absorbed a fair amount of spittle in his direction over the years. Kesandra wasn't the most eloquent or verbose of writers, more interested in heft and balance and weight, but she had recorded in the tome how the historian had sought the creation of a personal weapon to aid him in his expeditions into the north of the Highmark. Kesandra had sketched - in beautiful detail - the weapon she had made for him: a maul. One whose magic ran in engraved channels of triangles and pentagons, one who she had ensured would never rust (though no magical weapon ever did, Verglas remembered). It was Kesandra's maul that now lay by Roland's side.

And yet that left even more questions. If some elven historian had come here, why had he brought his family? There was Kirillin Manor, or its ruin perhaps, off somewhere to the southeast of here, but why would the historian's remains be found out here rather than in or near the manor?

[Novabomb]

Ramiro Sanda wakes refreshed for the new day.
Yesterday held much excitement, who knows what today will bring
He performs minutes of exercise to get the blood flowing, and then begins helping with breaking camp.

He notices that Roland and Verglas do not look so well, but says nothing. This is bad place to rest further, and there is no benefit to revealing this.

Sense Motive in case this information is meant to be disguised (I will modify the post accordingly)

Roland: [roll0]
Verglas: [roll1]



To Verglas
Are you sure these wouldn't be better off on you? (Referencing the furs)

[Toliudar]

Verglas

Verglas is certainly working to minimize the symptoms of her illness, but otherwise doesn't seem to be concealing anything.

Verglas stares glassily at Ramiro as he offers her the fur wraps.

"You're kind sir but if I wrapped all of those around me I'd fall of that horse thing and wouldn't be able to get up So you put those on in good health and try to believe that they smell like that because of the animals they are made from."

As she chews meditatively on a bit of dried bread, she motions for Roland to come over, and taps on the haft of his maul. She coughs a bit, catching her breath, and raises her voice enough for all three of her companions to hear.

"I had a dream last night Now normally I eschew oneiromancy as the province of charlatans and those wizards who focused on divination because they couldn't handle a real discipline But in this case I believe that the dream to be both truthful and germane to our mission."

She takes a sip of water.

"I remembered reading about the maul that you found It was crafted by an extraordinary smith named Kesandra for an historian and folklorist who committed the execrable horrifying faux pas of wanting to study all of the history of our land even the era ruled by the elves Can you imaging his foolishness The interesting question to ask is that if there was an historian focused on elves, why was he with his family in a hidden shrine of the Firekeeper freezing to death and not in some safe bloody library in Killian Hall or some such I mean especially knowing how the Firekeeper is seen vis a vis the subject of his studies Do you see what I mean It's a bit of an intriguing mystery yes?"

She seems about to say more, but stops to shiver violently, and when the spasm passes, she remains silent, staring at the crust of bread in her hand.

[Riggdgames]

Roland


@Ramiro: Roland is actively trying to hide his own sickness at first, though less and less so as it becomes apparent that he and Verglas share an illness. I think it's safe to say with that roll you catch on before it becomes obvious, but by the end of this post I imagine it's public knowledge.


Happy to have Verglas look at it, Roland surrenders the maul before finally surrendering to sleep, letting it take him away from the cold, forbidding place. He only makes it partway through the night before he wakes in a cold sweat, shaking from the cold but burning up at the same time. Bundling up as much as he can, Roland goes into the fetal position, hugging himself to stay warm as his body starts to ache. He navigates the rest of the night doggedly, stealing sleep between bouts of burning warmth and shattering cold.

In the morning, he rises slower than the sun for the first time in a long while, coughing and spitting mucus into the snow as he chokes down some water. Grimacing at Verglas' motion, Roland finally forces himself to get up on his feet, feeling the pain welcome him from head to toe. He cracks his neck audibly, feeling his head spin as his vision goes dark for a second before he recovers and walks over to her.

Listening to Verglas' further explanation this morning, Roland's mind is blissfully occupied with thoughts of Kesandara and magics beyond his understanding, distracting him from his ills. Pulling the Maul free from his belt and examining the shapes engraved in it, Roland looks back at Verglas as she suddenly stops speaking to shiver violently in front of him. The question on his tongue surrounding the hammer's origin melts away as his thoughts are dragged forcefully back to his misfortune rather than his boon. He was sick, of that Roland was certain, but Verglas did not seem to be at her best either.

"Verglas," Roland says, pausing a few moments to stifle a cough as best he can and letting her name hang in the air. Had Ember simply trampled him in the night, he might've felt better. If she felt the same, she hid it admirably. "Are you feeling alright?" Roland asks sniffling before a catch in his throat causes him to cough hard a few more times.

[Toliudar]

Verglas

The little gnome woman looked up at the man who had been her...introduction to the fine art of survival on this trip. And realized that his eyes were shining, his face was red, his limbs were tightly wrapped around him to hid the shakes. F*ck. And now emotion was involved. Inconvenient.

Verglas turned away from his question. She needed to be hard, and she needed him to be hard, to get through the next two days.

"F*cking rats."

Rising awkwardly to her feet, Verglas begins rolling her bedroll.

"We are losing the slightly less dark grey that is passing for daylight here Shall we go?"

[Riggdgames]

Roland

A stifled cough and a nod are Roland's only response as the pain claws through his joints. It finally dawns on him at Verglas' expletive what's happening to them. Rats. It seemed obvious in retrospect, but he thought the Firekeeper would've cleansed him of their filth.

"F*cking rats," he mutters in agreement. He glances back down for a moment, but sees only a hardened traveler preparing for another day on the cold road. Nodding wordlessly to himself, Roland gingerly gathers his things and breaks camp.

He'd heard a saying once just a few years after he'd left home and followed his feet down the cold road. Everything freezes on the road. The weak chip and shatter. The strong harden until it's time to thaw by the hearth.

"Let's be on our way before that girl can get any further from us," Roland agrees, loading up Ember.


By the way, I'm assuming Ramiro is going to take those furs. I think that makes the most sense. Verglas can take a charge of Endure Elements. I think Ember and Stormrir may need a charge as well...do we want to just go ahead and protect them up-front, or hold charges just in case?

[Saintheart]

On that - It's still Severe Cold, i.e. Level 2 protection is required for complete shielding from the cold, which the horses don't have even with Fullcloth. If they don't get Endure Elements (assuming no other enterprising solutions) then they'll start having to make Fort saves about once per hour, with a risk of frostbite or hypothermia setting in on failed saves.

I'll assume Roland's wands are divine ones, so Njal is able to cast from them.

[DrK]

Njal

The dwarf rises, looking about and heads out into the snow to commune whilst the snow bites into him. Focusing his mind he embraces the cold as he summons the power of the mountain into him. That done he heads back inside the cramped hut to see the others, pausing only to summon protection from the biting cold for himseld and the massive stallion.
Looking at the others his face is serious, a hand tugging at his beard. "Its been a rough couple days on the road. We been eat by rats, chased by wolves, threatened by that stupid cat and the storms been bad.", he pauses, "I be thinking we look for a corpse now frae the wee girl."

[Riggdgames]

Roland

Nodding reluctantly to Njal even as a sharp pain goes shooting up the back of his neck, Roland grimaces and adds, "you might be right." Thinking back on the reward of a home and a hearth to call his own, he adds, "either way, we can't stop now. Whatever sliver of hope there is for her gets slimmer by the hour."


I'm going to keep the wands on my sheet to keep tracking them, but I'm marking them as in Njal's possession if everyone's good with that (10 charges each of Endure Elements, Cure Light Wounds, and Pass w/o a Trace).

I am also marking off two charges (now eight remaining) of Endure Elements for Ember and Stormrir for today.

[Toliudar]

Verglas

That all makes good sense to me, Riggdgames.

After resetting her magic, casting another magic to ward out the cold and helping with the stowing of the tent to the best of her ability, Verglas settles back into place on the horse.

"To be honest what I'm looking for hardest right now is any building with a fire inside it."

[Saintheart]

Mid-Morning, Day 3
Complication Pool: 2 of 6

The adventurers set out once more, angling northeast, heading for where they were reasonably sure the Old Fort stood according to their maps. That said, the land was clearly becoming more inhospitable now; the foothills rose in size and treacherousness, and each of them had the distinct feeling that they were truly in a wilderness now. The winds remained steady from the southwest, the cold holding its earlier grip, and they kept to their previous fast pace.

It was around midmorning that Njal halted them at the top of a rise and pointed to a spot a few miles out of their way. Had there not been a plume of smoke rising from its direction none of them would probably have noticed it, but even with the wind blowing as it was, it was impossible to mistake that a fire was burning, and that it was burning in what looked to be the black triangle of some sort of settlement - though from this distance it wasn't possible to tell exactly what it was or how big the structure seemed to be. But it was a structure nonetheless.

It'll take a few hours out of your journey to go and check it out if that's what you want to do. Complication dice would rise by another 1 and it'd probably be around noon by the time you get there. I'm still presuming the party is setting a fast pace.

[Novabomb]

Ramiro Sanda
As the firekeeper would say, where there is fire, there is civilization. Perhaps our runaway is there, or word of her passage?

[Toliudar]

Verglas nodded emphatically.

"If I were three days on the road and as ill prepared as that girl probably was then I would definitely have made for that firesign I agree that we should head forthwith and without delay there to check on whether she came through or perhaps event of ind out if they came through."

[DrK]

Njal

The dwarf grins at the chatter with his new companions and nods his thanks to the wands from the doughty knight that help shield them from the freezing cold Njal is still not eager to mount up and head back out. The battles and 2 days of hard riding had left him desiring a warm cave and hot mead. EVen so his eyes narrow as he spies the plume of smoke - "No matter who it is, its a source of information. Aye, the lass would be wise to set a fire. Both for warmth and tae signal her foolish lover. Or it may be the lad himself coming south."

He nods to the others and whistles to the wolf as he taps the stallions flanks to increase the pace, a trail of flying snow chasing them through the valley.

[Riggdgames]

Roland

"Well said Ramiro," Roland says, choking back a cough and trying to ignore the pain reverberating through his spine. He listens to the others in silence, nodding to Njal before he and Stormrir take off, kicking up snow in their haste to investigate the smoke. Clicking his tongue and putting his heels gently into Ember, Roland urges her after them. "Come on girl," he mutters, gritting his teeth against the chill wind and his aching bones as the horse plods forward.

[Saintheart]

Noon, Day 3
Complication Pool: 3 of 6

The adventurers' dismay rose as they moved off their path and toward the source of the wisp of smoke, and as the settlement became more visible. The settlement turned out to be a single farmhouse. True, it was a reasonably large one: it looked to be two levels, maybe five rooms, the rearmost rooms buried into the face of a hill. It had a vintage look to it - the sort of structure that had been more popular about a hundred years ago, all stone walls and wooden high gables not dissimilar to the outpost they'd been at the day before.

But it was also a shambling ruin. Maybe only ten percent of it still looked to have an intact roofline. It didn't seem to have been ruined recently, either; the damage looked to have been due to time and the elements, not anything recent. There were two outbuildings as well, roughly the dimensions of maybe a stable and a woodshed, but also in advanced stages of ruin.

The source of the fire also proved to be more sinister than they'd hoped. Some sort of campfire was still burning in the yard at the centre of the ruins, and there did seem to be tracks around it ... but there were a number of blackened bones left in and around the fire. Together with a half-blackened skull that appeared, without closer inspection, to be the skull of a humanoid, sitting grotesquely atop the campfire.

[Novabomb]

Ramiro Sanda

Hold up, let me look around, this doesn't look so good.

He drops into a bit of a crouch as he starts looking around.


Hide: [roll0]
Move Silently: [roll1]

Listen [roll2]

[Saintheart]

Noon, Day 3
Complication Pool: 3 of 6

Ramiro made a careful circuit of the perimeter of the farmhouse and its outbuildings, but it didn't appear that anything was still hanging around in the area. There were plenty of tracks to be sure, but, focused on whether anything was nearby, the young ascetic wasn't looking to identify them or figure out whether they were recent or not.

He picked his way to the main ruin of the farmhouse, peering carefully into the shadows of the rooms buried back into the hillside. Again, it didn't look like anything sentient was still here; the place didn't seem to have any living occupiers. And nothing else dreadful jumped out at him from the dark, either.

[Novabomb]

Ramiro Sanda
Its clear. Why would anyone leave a fire unattended for so long?

[DrK]

Njal

Njal chokes bac a curse as he see's the skull left atop the smoking fires. "Who do be leaving that grim marker. A curse on'em" He sniffs around the fire looking for any tracks that may illuminate who/how many were here and what sort of creature the skull belongs to.



Survival [roll0] for tracks

Know nature [roll1] to ID the race of the skull

[Saintheart]

Noon, Day 3
Complication Pool: 3 of 6

Njal's long instinct in the snows now came to the fore. Turning his attention from the grim sight at the centre of the campfire, he moved to the scuffings and drags in the snow all around them.

Njal had to admit he had no idea what species the former owner of the charred skull might be, whether that was due to the damage the fire had already wrought or otherwise. However, the tracks around the fire and around the place were more revealing.

There had been six of them, on foot, no sign of any mounts. Light in the foot for the snows, though the weight distribution was certainly that of two-legs. They'd come in from somewhere north and west of here. They'd taken the sole inhabitant of this ruin - whose tracks were far deeper. The inhabitant had come out of the house, seemingly realised his danger, and started to run for ...
...hmm. He'd seemed to start running for the stable, though there was no sign of any mount there either recently or now.

Either way, the six who'd come had caught him before he could make it there. Then they'd dragged him back, towards the yard, and ...

Even tough as he was, Njal's stomach did a slow roll. They'd butchered the dweller, and then consumed him. There were bite marks and signs of gnawing all over the bones that lay around the fire. And having finished, the six had then turned due west. And so their tracks went on.

And the tracks themselves?

Light in the foot for the snows, which didn't match the weight distribution being where it was. A two-leg simply couldn't put that much mass on the snow and leave so little a mark. Except for one.

These were surely the tracks of Frost Folk. The wild men who had more than a touch of the eldritch to them and who, thus far, had only been seen north of the Spear. This was, it seemed, a raiding party of them.

[Riggdgames]

Roland

As Ramiro ensures the area is safe and Njal beings to examine what may have happened to leave a still smoldering skull atop the fire, Roland gingerly dismounts. He had always been a touch deaf in his left ear, but even so he could swear he hears his bones creak as he reaches up to offer Verglas a hand down if she wants.

As Njal inspects the tracks thoroughly, Roland sits by the fire, wary of the grotesque, blackened bones, but unable to stay away when his own bones are so chill. He chokes down a bit of water and tries to ignore the pulsing ache in his head as he responds to the young monk.

"I know for sure that I do not know, but whoever they are, let's hope we do not meet them. Or the lady for that matter," Roland says, shivering as the wind cuts through his armor. "It is not the lady, is it Njal?" Roland calls out hoarsely, nodding towards the bones.

[Toliudar]

Verglas

The little gnome coughs and hugs herself.

"Yes yes it's tragic and awful Let's either get close enough to that fire for some warmth or let's move on It's only one skull, so even if that IS one of the two that we seek, the other one is still out there somewhere By process of elimination and since something out there is clearly in the elimination business I would like that business to involve us as little as possible."

[Novabomb]

Ramiro Sanda
Lyssa is the one we have a deal for. Do any of the tracks look like they belong to a sabercat?

[DrK]

Njal

Njal shakes his head at Roland, "No lad, I dinnae think so. But we need to tail these bastards. Frost folk raiders slipping into the vale - them pale face devils wil cause trouble adn eat more folks if we dinnae stop them." He looks at the others, "I know you want to be chasin' the lass.... but these lads mean trouble and need tae be stopped." He moves to the fires and kicks over the skull, and nods to the wolf. Helping Gromrir scrabbling at the ground to dig a small burial pit for the remains.

[Novabomb]

Ramiro Sanda
I am willing, but do you think this is a good idea to do now? Those two are sick, and we are likely still behind the Girl.

[Riggdgames]

Roland

Listening to Njal and Ramiro trading words, Roland simply tries to keep his cough at bay and warm his bones by the fire. Staring into the flames he can hear the anger in Njal's voice, but he can't summon any himself. Perhaps the Firekeeper would lend him some when they were on the Frost Folk's trail, but hunting them wouldn't save this poor, burnt soul and might only get the rest of them killed.

Ramiro's words about him and Verglas being sick makes him look up finally, glancing over at her as she pulls her furs tighter against the wind. Biting the inside of his cheek to stave off another cough, Roland speaks slowly, pacing himself.

"Njal," he starts, pausing a few long moments before continuing, "these Frost Folk...if we chase them, some will die. Sick or no," Roland says, finally acknowledging it, "I'll do my part. If there are few, we will scatter them. If there are many, many will die before we do." Roland pauses, coughing into his furs before carrying on. "I do not like leaving them to roam, but no matter what else happens, if we go chasing them, we put the girl in even more danger. We all looked Lord Hardwalker in the eye and told him we'd try to bring his little girl home," he says, looking at each of them in turn before coughing and spitting into the snow. "I don't know if we'll manage, honestly. Not if we keep running into wolves and rats and f*ckin' cats bigger than Ember. Not with a Gravewind bearing down. But we've got to keep trying, and we've got to focus on her if we're going to bring her home," Roland says, staring at Njal now.

"Please Njal. You got the best head among us for finding our way through this valley. I'll follow you whichever way you lead, but until we find Lyssa and get her safe out of the valley, the Frost Folk can wait."

[Toliudar]

Verglas

Verglas is having trouble believing that this is even a conversation. She can barely look at Njal, but her voice is slower than usual - either because she is freezing to death, or losing her temper. It's hard to tell.

"You took a job Screwing up that job is likely to get us killed Even if we don't die in the blizzard on the horizon Or from whatever the rats gave us Or from going out looking for a fight with these people who haven't done us any harm By the same logic, the cat back there is eating things so we should kill it so it can't eat people It...just...gah!"

She hugs herself tighter and shudders.

[Novabomb]

Ramiro Sanda frowns and turns to Verglas.
No harm to us? (Points at the skull) That used to be a person. WE have been harmed.

He turns back to Njal.

[DrK]

Njal

The dwarf tugs a hand through his partially frozen beard, chunks of ice and snow tugging free. He glances at Verglas, "You think this lass will be alive eh? She be bones and scraps like this one..." he says gesturing to the fresh grave.

"Aye, we be tired, we be ill. But them frostfolk be the spawn o' the elves. Devils in ice skin." breathing heavily he nods back to the horses, "I'll dae another day, maybe 2 on the hunt for the lass. When we reach the valleys end it'll be the end o'this fools errand. "

He looks at the others as he mounts up. "Best be about it then..." before pushing Stormrir back on the trail of the girl.

[Saintheart]

Noon, Day 3
Complication Pool: 3 of 6

And indeed it was because he chose that particular moment to hook his foot into Stormrir's stirrup, just as he swung himself into the saddle and grumbled "Best be about it then" that Njal saw it, out of the corner of his eye. Something that didn't quite match.

Nothing hostile; nothing living. It was in what remained of the stables: one small part of the structure was still intact, a couple of roofbeams still with old-looking thatch on them. On top of one of those roofbeams (and maybe that explained why neither Ramiro nor any of them had seen the thing from ground level) there was a glint of steel: something that looked like an arrowhead. And when he focused, what might have been some sort of arc, perhaps that of a bow.

[DrK]

Njal

Njal froze, and slowly dropped from the saddle "Why be this eh? Hey, big man, heft someone up there, there be something on that beam" he calls to Roland approaching the dilapidated structure carefully.

[Toliudar]

Verglas

Sometimes, the way to burst through a wall is with brute force, or by climbing over it, or squeezing through a crack. And sometimes, you just recognize that it's a wall, and follow along until it agrees to move on with the journey because you need it to follow the tracks in the f*cking snow.

Verglas follows Njal's point, and wearily glances back at Roland.

"I'm small and light. Heft me up there."

[Riggdgames]

Roland

Breathing a congested sigh of relief at Njal's decision, Roland sneezes into the snow as the dwarf spots something previously undiscovered. Roland follows the other 3 pairs of eyes up to the glint of steel on the snow-covered roof and nods, stifling a groan as he rises.

"That you are, Verglas," Roland says, walking over to the edge of the structure and lifting her easily. "Up you go." With little effort, Roland lifts the wisp of a gnome up as high as he can to try to make it as easy as possible for her to get a closer look.

[Saintheart]

Noon, Day 3
Complication Pool: 3 of 6

Roland boosted Verglas up onto the beam, which was a horizontal supporting the ruined triangle of the roof and actually a little sheltered from the constant bite of the wind. The beam was thick and made of oak or perhaps wanderwood; rich foundations indeed and surely imported here. The only oaks she'd ever heard of grew in sad-looking twists, barely green, on the southernmost coasts of Gullcry, and didn't last long. This oak could have been brought all the way from the Archipelagos.

Either way, with its two-foot-wide span, it was easy enough for her to sit on, and from here she had a decent view of the snow-covered yard which all of the farm buildings faced on. An old, frayed-looking hemp rope hung listlessly down from this beam to the stable floor a good eight feet below, secured by a nail and lashed around the beam.

This was a sniper's nest. Or maybe some last desperate redoubt in the event of attack. She realised that now. Because the gleam of steel Njal had seen from horseback was that of a crossbow, lying under an old, stained oilcloth, with a bolt in the flight groove but the bowstring unlocked. Another ten bolts sat beside it on the beam under another cloth. The crossbow at least looked to have been well-cared-for, or maybe it was more the expense of it: the wood of the foregrip, trigger, stock, and limbs gleamed with oil and the steel parts of the weapon didn't seem to have rusted. The wood of the weapon's foregrip had also been carved with what looked to be representations of gems and a hammer and anvil, which was odd.

As were the other carvings she could see. The beam itself and the wood around her had been scratched into with markings that looked to be writing. Not the calligraphy of gnomes, and certainly not the flowing, beautiful, terrifying text of the samples of elven writing she'd secretly studied over the years. No, these were much more runic. Dwarven. The one language she hadn't learned to read. And even then, the runes didn't have the customary, straight-up-and-down forms of dwarven runes. These were more ... haphazard. Scrawled, insofar as you could scrawl carvings. As though the writer wasn't fully in his (or her) right frame of mind while doing them.

[Toliudar]

Verglas

Verglas looks around the hidey-hole, then calls down reluctantly.

"Njal you may want to have a look up here There's a bunch of scrawled and weird-looking dwarven runes Almost like someone hung around in this spot too long and went crazy I wonder what that would be like And a fancy-ass crossbow with like a hammer and anvil worked into it and the solid dwarven kind that you might know more about than me Not being racist about this but if it were gnomish in make then the anvil would have a longer and narrower horn plus the crossbow wouldn't be as big as I am So it seems like this is the kind of spot you hole up in when you want to shoot a bunch of people before they oh say for instance get angry and burn your f*cking house down."

She bends to take a closer look at the crossbow, and takes another look around up in the nook. If she sees nothing else, she hands the crossbow and bolts down to Roland, and lowers herself into his arms with a grunt of sore joints.

Search [roll0] to notice any other hidden bits in the nook
Knowledge History [roll1] to determine whether the crossbow's markings have a specific meaning
Decipher Script [roll2] to try to make out any of the language in the runes.

[Saintheart]

Noon, Day 3
Complication Pool: 3 of 6

The hammer and anvil marking on the crossbow indicated, so far as Verglas could remember, that it was of dwarven make. Magical weapons - such as the maul Roland had found in the roadside shrine - tended to have more intricate patterns carved on them since there was a certain art to causing the energy to flow correctly through the weapon. But the hammer and anvil mark was common enough to indicate a dwarf of the Dragontooth Mountains or perhaps one resident in the city of Thandar had made this weapon. She seemed to remember that the precise angle at which the hammer was carved in relation to the anvil had some relationship to which clan or which smith had actually made the weapon, but the specifics otherwise were lost to the mists of time.

Verglas had a good look around but couldn't see anything else of interest in the nook; no space for a secret door or chamber, even for someone the size of a gnome, and nothing else but the random scrawlings written here or above her.

[DrK]

https://i.pinimg.com/originals/f7/24/c3/f724c318699b2e1162bd18c19bdf382c.jpg
Njal "Stormcaller" (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2191185)

Njal shuffles hurriedly across and clambers up with Roland's help. He spends some time looking at the dwarven runes with curiosity reading them aloud to everyone to see if the words have any meaning to the wider group. At Verglas's words he nods, "Aye, looks to be a last stand so it does." He glances at the crossbow then down at the pot where the skull had been, wondering if there is a link between them.

Looking at the crossbow itself, he nods in approval. "A finely made think. Sure one of you folks would bear it well."

[Toliudar]

Verglas

Happy that the mystery was solved*, Verglas was content to sesttle back on Horsething and wait.



* Or, at least, had exhausted the small amount of curiosity she had felt for it.

[Saintheart]

Noon, Day 3
Complication Pool: 3 of 6

Njal frowned over the runes written all over the beam and the vertical. They were certainly dwarven, but whoever had written them was clearly most of the way out of his mind if not completely departed. The phrases were mostly gibberish, random words here and there, and phrases that didn't even seem to be familiar in the dwarven tongue.

KA-TET!
O DISCORDIA!
HAIL LOS THE RED!
BLAINE BLAINE THE TRAIN IS A PAIN
COMMALA AND O-RIZA
THANKEE-SAI.

Here and there the phrase 'THE TOWER AND THE BEAM' had been dug deep into the wood as well.

The most understandable bit of text amongst all of what Njal could see was also the one written in what seemed to be the strongest hand, or the neatest carving anyway. It actually wasn't just a phrase. Njal was surprised to realise it was a dwarven kang-soha, a form of poetry popular in some segments of dwarven society; the rigid form appealed to dwarves' mindsets. It was practised often by elders of the dwarven clans as they drew near to the time of their call to join their ancestors.

She sings the sad wind
Woman of tears and water
A lover alone

Njal had to translate it into Common, of course, which meant the stark beauty of the phrases were lost.

By the way, the crossbow is a masterwork crossbow - Njal or Roland would see that. Comes with 11 bolts.