Sturla ceased his vocalizations as, just as he thought he found his voice again, the two walking icicles already laid dead and dying. With the beating he'd taken, however, he wasn't about to complain. Loading a stone into the newly retrieved sling, the bard swung and slung the projectile at a downed enemy.
Braham scrambles up, and gets ready for another swing with his axe.
Despite how easy one would consider hitting an unconscious enemy, all the other aspects make it a veritable impossibility. Yet, somehow, Sturla manages to load and sling a stone past Braham's wide stance, to smack the prone form beyond him. The hard stone chipped off a decent chunk.
Braham wastes no time following it up. With a heavy overhand swing, he chops down into the thing like splitting wood. The icy form not only breaks but whatever held all of it together ceases as well, as it crumbles into unattached blocks of lifeless ice.
Seeing the creature isn't quite dead, Thanion stabs at it with his estoc.
Thanion stabs downward with his weapon like an over-sized ice pick, but underestimates the hard, slick exterior, as his weapon just slides across it to stab into the icy surface of the frozen stream. The body, slips just aside of his weapon along the ice.
Aavelixia takes the opportunity to finish the fight with a coup de grace on the ice creature.
Sticking the tip of her blade in the ice, she uses the position to lever the blade down across where a neck is most likely located, trying to separate the ice block head. Despite her efforts, a bloodless, living, ice creature proves to be a hard target to put down for good, even while helpless.
Drogan mutters, expecting the ice creature to crumble with the Druid's attack like the other one did. Letting out a loud bellow, he brings his great axe up, slashing down hard in the area where the chest would be.
Despite the fact that Drogan's effort to find a suitable way to coup de grace something that doesn't bleed is for naught, he still manages to hit it hard enough to finish it off all the same.
With the two ice creatures dispatched, Drogan turns around to look at the snowman. Shifting to step over the gap in the ice below him, he walks over to the snowman, then puts a shoulder into it, pushing it down.
Drogan felt the bard's hand on his shoulder but with it came more than a sense of camaraderie.
"Alright, mate?"
The dwarf felt wounds stitch themselves back together as Sturla sent curative energy his way through the touch. Of the group, the two had taken the brunt of the damage in this latest fight and though it was his last spell for the day, there was no doubt in the Ulfen's mind who it should go to; he wasn't exactly known for his self-preservation.
"Those were some right c*nts, eh? I'm not liking these tricky bastards... With their traps and their ambushes and their talkin' elks..."
Sturla was clearly not feeling his best but he'd never been one to let such things as bodily injures get in his way. And these enemies that relied on subterfuge - well, that would just make making whatever dastardly fiend was behind this eat dirt that much more satisfying!
Thanion resheathes his blade and surveys the area. "Did anyone see who or what animated the ice?"
Drogan's frustration comes to the surface as he takes action against the snowman that set the combat into motion. With the force of the dwarf's weight behind him, he easily topples the stacked spheres, which roll away from each other as they hit the ground.
Drogan rests his thick hand over Sturla's, nodding as the last of the ringing in his ears clears away. Giving a reassuring tap, he moves back to the trail, dropping down to slowly strap his snowshoes back on, his pale grey eyes scanning the rocks for more attackers.
"I'm not sure what or who caused it. It does make me think that we are on the right path." She looks at the injured, "Are you all alright?" It's the snows fault. I have never been so distracted when confronted by an enemy. I hate the cursed snow. The sooner this is over the sooner I can head even farther south. She shakes her head slightly, pushing her thoughts away.
She glances around nervously, "We should keep moving."
There are no more signs of threats, and the way ahead seems clear as the trail picks up on the other side of the frozen stream, just up the embankment.
Braham swipes some of the snow from his clothes, a futile gesture.
"Yes, let's follow the path. I have a feeling we are getting closer to our goal..."
Everyone collects themselves, and any of the stuff they may have dropped, to make their way across the icy stream. Allowing for a little separation in spacing and caution on the slick surface, it isn't until almost everyone is across that another crack appears in the ice. It happens so fast that Aavelixia is not prepared for it to break open beneath her, as she drops into the freezing waters below.
The water is just barely over her head, and it is only thanks to the oiled waterproofing of one of the layers of her cold weather outfit that prevents her from getting completely soaked. She is easily able to pull herself out of the stream, but a dip like that could potentially give some less prepared a bad case of hypothermia.
As Braham and Drogan near the ridge turning back toward the trail, they both easily notice the legs and feet of a frozen corpse jutting from a pile of snow next to the tree here.
Looking at the frozen corpse, Braham mutters "I don't like this one bit... This is probably just going to turn into a monster again that will attack us...".
He readies his greataxe, and carefully starts to move in the direction of the frozen corpse, looking out for any signs of trouble.
"You're probably right my large friend, but where there is one there may be others." Thanion then searches the area for anything out of place.
Aavelixia takes notice of the frozen corpse and tells Suzy "Stay" as she points closer to the wall.
She takes a moment to look around for anything suspicious or threatening before moving ahead.
"Listen to your mother, Suzy. She knows best and all this snow can't be good for a growing plant..."
Sturla stopped to give Aavelixia a dumb grin and a thumbs-up (anything for the edification of his stepdaughter-plant!), before turning to the half-buried corpse. Satisfied that the others were scanning the area for threats, the bard gave the deceased his full attention.
Said attention started with a light kick.
"Ey, you dead?"
One couldn't be too careful with these things. Why, being dead was oftentimes no hindrance at all to wandering about and eating anything still living. Greeting cadavers with a swift kick to their stupid undead fangs should be standard practice, really.
Drogan pulls his Great Axe, moving up to the ridge above the corpse so he can get a better view of the surrounding area while the others examine the corpse.
Everybody jumps into a watchful stance, having had more than enough of the silly little fey tricks. Dumped under the tree, the body loses the little snow covering it when Sturla kicks it. It looks very much like a dead farmer, maybe froze to death, and not the moving dead type of dead. He looks like he still has all of his stuff with him.
Braham looks at the body, but he draws a complete blank. His brain, not his greatest asset to begin with, seems to be severely affected by the cold, his neurons barely having enough energy to fire...
Thanion looks down at the corpse. "Poor soul..." He then takes a closer look. "I think this is Old Man Dansby... One of the local farmers. He recently was claiming someone was stealing from him. Could these fey have taken up residence at his farm?"
Drogan glances briefly down. "Might be worth taking a quick check, if it isn't too far away. I don't know if it is connected to the lady you are searching for, but fey seem to be involved every other step of our path.."
Sturla's bum was still high in the air, bent as he was over the cadaver now identified as a Mr Dansby. He rooted the body for anything useful, occasionally grunting with exertion at moving limbs frozen stiff. The bard had a rather cavalier attitude regarding death, perhaps not surprising from one so unconcerned with his own safety. But that was not to say he wasn't concerned about those still alive.
"Did he have a family, this old man of yers? 'Cause if so, we could go check up on them, assuming this farm is close by. But eh... that princess of ours is still out there, you know. 'If you chase two rabbits, you won't catch either', yeah?"
Sturla liked proverbs.
The way the body is attired, it looks like the man may have spent some time in the military. The body still bears a composite longbow with a little over a half quiver of arrows, a dagger, a handaxe, and a pouch of coin. Braham and Aavelixia know that the Dansby farm, though on the outskirts of the Border Wood, is moving out and away from the direction of the path you all follow. Your quarry has led you deeper and deeper into the Border Wood.
"There's nothing more we can do for him now. I say we go on and try to rescue the lady. Hopefully it's not yet too late!"
Braham is still trying to work out what Sturla meant with his rabbits proverb.
"Perhaps we at least have time to give him as much of a burial as is possible with the frozen ground." He pauses as he makes his way back off the ridge to take a look at the body." Might as well recover his gear as well. It won't do him much good, but I imagine at least one of use can still get some use out of it."
"Where is his farm located? It could be where they are taking her. If they were stealing from him and now he lays dead...They could have killed him," Sia stares at the frozen body as Sturla looks for items. "No one would have found him, his farm is an easy place to hide."
"Nah, that can't be right," said Sturla in reply to the rogue.
"We've been tracking these princess-pilfering faeries into the woods, yeah? And accordin' to the seiðrálvur, snjóálvur and Braham this farm is out of the woods, yeah? These are, uh, what ye call, eh, opposin' directions, yeah?"
The bard tried emphasizing his point through crossing his arms and pointing in opposite directions. He looked ridiculous.
"I mean, correct me if I'm wrong. Really, go on. Don't be shy. I've been known to be wrong in the past. Haven't I, Drogan? Oh yeah, a real numpty, me."
Drogan glances at his friend, a faint smile cracking his otherwise serious demeanor at the arm-crossing antics.
"I'm with what the group decides. You all have been tracking this far longer than Sturla and I have."He pauses, taking a closer look at the body, "the only thing I wonder, not being familiar with this area, is how this guy ended up all the way out here away from the farm. Could possibly be tracking the same fey we are..."Drogan sort of trails off, considering.
Aavelixia is surprised to see Sturla so interested in Suzy's safety. Unsure of his motives, she keeps her eyes on him as he moves closer to Mr. Dansby.
Seeing no immediate danger, Aavelixia gets closer to Mr. Dansby and scans the area for anything suspicious before focusing on the composite long bow.
She inspect the quality of the bow and tests out the string of the composite long bow.
After checking out the bow, she will appraise the other 2 items; the dagger, then the axe.
Aavelixia lifts the bow and gives it a sturdy pull. She is unable to determine the quality of the weapon, but it has a strong pull that she can just barely manage to draw. The other two weapons she gets a better judge of, the dagger being nondescript, but the handaxe is very fine make and balance.
"I agree with Sturla here. If the tracks lead further into the woods, we must go there. Saving the Lady has to be the priority. Perhaps we check the farmhouse on our return?"
Aavelixia looks at all the companions and says "As much as I hate to admit it, Sturla is right, we can't chase two options, we have to chose one of the options." She pauses for a moment and continues to say "The lady is assumed to have been kidnapped. This is the rescue mission we signed up for back in town. I just hope that the lady's family will then help our little town not freeze or starve to death."
She looks at the ground "The snow keeps on falling, it's just a matter of time before the tracks are completely buried in the snow. We can check on the farm on the way back. Finding this lady is a higher priority."
Aavelixia calls Suzy, "Suzy, follow"
As most of the group decides that rescuing the Lady Argentea Malassene before looking into any threats that may reside at the Old Man Dansby's farm. The group trudges through the falling snow, winding deeper into the Border Wood. The time wears on for about thirty minutes, and though she avoided the potential freezing from her dip in the stream, Aavelixia finds that her heavy furs are not keeping the cold at bay as well as when they were dryer. Despite her new chill, she doesn't suffer the cold as much as Sia does. For some reason, the bite of winter nips at her after the group's third hour of slogging through the deep snow.
Seeing how Sia's face turns a faint shade a blue, Braham asks concernedly "Sia, are you alright? Should we stop and make a fire?"
He clumsily rubs Sia on her back in an effort to get her warm again.
Drogan glances back at Sia. "We need to stop and get her warm. Pushing on in this condition will not help her out at all."
Pulling his coat off, he drapes it over Sia's shoulders.
Turning, Drogan spots a suitable location to shelter in and directs the group toward it. Leaving his coat around Sia's shoulders, Drogan trudges around, looking for a good collection of dry branches to make a fire to warm the group up with.
Sia pauses as Braham rubs her back, "I think I'm just getting a little cold, I should be alright," She gladly accepts the coat that Drogan drapes over her though. "I really should be used to this. I'm from the North ya know." She mutters to herself, but loud enough for others to hear her clearly.
She moves to the area that Drogan pointed out, too cold to attempt to find a spot herself. She shakes her head as she shivers and begins to rub her hands up and down her arms, attempting to make herself warm.
"I have flint and steel in my pack if you need it," she calls out mainly to Drogan, but directs her gaze to everyone.
Drogan sets up a small fire, building it to make sure much of the heat will be reflected back at Sia. Pulling his flint and steel out, he gives a few quick strikes, a small fire blazing in the pit.
Standing, he rubs his thick hands over the fire, looking around at the others. "We should probably rest, at least for a little bit. We've been pushed hard the last few hours, fighting that fey with his elk and then the ice creatures."