Yrja hisses in sympathy as the järv's claws carve up Dez into bloody shreds. Three times now the bolts and arrows aimed at it had failed to hurt it, so she doesn't believe that her sling pebbles can do better than trained hunters could. Her magic almost exhausted, all she can think of is to try and prevent it from hurting her friends again.
Blinking as Imendri suddenly expands before her, Chiquq moves on in the snow for a clearer shot.
Ila stubbornly attacks as well.
It seems unlikely that Ila manages to strike the jarv.
Dez's tail pulls out a potion of CLW but he does not drink it, realizing that if he does the wolverine will have an opportunity to strike at him. He glances over his shoulder further into the dimness and considers withdrawing, but realizes he will not be able to again get close to the wolverine without it striking at him. So, with slight shrug and then determined set of his shoulders, and the last bit of inspiration he can muster, he strikes out again at the ferocious beast:
Chiquq's arrow buries deep into the wolverine's fur, and a split second later Dez's sword hacks at the beast, drawing blood. The mammoth is unsuccessful is reaching the järv. The wolverine, however, wheels on the small elephantine beast, unleashing a savage flurry of attacks with its front paws and bloodied muzzle.
+11 (1d8+9) +11 (1d8+9)
Almost instantly, Ila's throat and side erupt in a spray of blood, her vitals and lifeblood spilling into the snow, and she goes down without even a trumpet.
The Very Tough Järv, Round 2!
Yrja
Dez 8/18 HP
Chiquq
Järv -26 HP
Caelum
Braegan
Imendri
Nadya
Bold may post!
Caelum moves up next to Dez and swings at the Järv.
...
Yrja screams as Ila goes down in a gout of blood. "Damn you!" Her magic was sliding off the creature like water off a duck. Time to change tactics. Sensing Dez's hesitation, she rushes to him and gives the other tiefling a slight push. "Finish it, Dez! Or else it will kill us all!" With these encouraging words she sends the tiniest spark of magic up his arm, hoping that his next attack will strike true.
Through the din of battle, Imendri briefly looks over to Dezsö and nods, taking a few steps to his left and pincering the giant beast between himself and the rest of the party. Again he lifts his now huge arms, bringing down his equally bigger sword onto the Järv with unflinching hatred. He rather liked that baby Mammoth.
As Ila gets mauled by the wolverine, Dezső's red face takes on an ashen hue, and his mouth goes slack. His eyes dart side to side as he hesitates about his next move, but Yrja's hand on his back spurs him to maintain the assault against the ferocious beast.
"The world needs rid of you foul beast!"
His effective strike barely denting the beast, a nervous Dezső takes a five foot step back further into the dimness.
Imendri's and Dez's strikes both miss the raging beast.
Nadya takes out a flask of oil and throws it at the beast.
It smacks on the creatures flank, drenching it with oil.
She snarls at Braegan. "Aim at that, damn you all. Burn it. Cripple it. We can't just sit here like idiots thinking it's a soldier."
The Very Tough Järv, Round 3!!!!
Yrja
Dez 8/18 HP
Chiquq
Järv -13 HP
Caelum
Braegan
Imendri
Nadya
Bold may post!
Swords and arrows were almost useless against the beast's thick hide, so Yrja hardly thinks that her puny sling can make a difference. Still, she has to do something! Frustrated and afraid, she scoops up a handful of snow and throws it at the creature, shouting. Perhaps it will get in its eyes and blind it momentarily. Or at least mildly inconvenience it.
Chiquq stands stock still a second, two, as Ila falls heavily to the snow, scarlet blood staining the mammoth's fur. For a second the huntress freezes, then she lets out a harsh, wordless, grief-stricken cry and attacks, running in the snow to have a clear shot.
Chiquq's grief makes the arrow go wide.
The wolverine, furious at Nadya, splashes through the snow, biting at where it thinks it sees her.
It savages Nadya in its jaws and stands over her, threatening to rip her in half.
Nadya is awake and alive, but is pinned and bleeding from the beast's savage jaws, which are still locked on her leg.
Caelum swings at the passing Järv.
"Ah!" Slightly panicking now, Yrja throws another handful of snow at the beast, this time imbued with a little bit of magic.
Caelum misses.
[ooc](It looks as though I'm in flanking for the AoO, as well as my landing position in my charge, hence why I included the bonus for both attacks)
Imendri slashes at the beast twice, wounding it grievously. Bone protrudes from its back and something vital appears to be dripping from its matted fur on one flank. It is near death, but it refuses to give up Nadya from its slavering jaws.
With tears of rage and grief streaming down her cheeks still, soon to freeze in the bitterly cold air, Chiquq runs forward to the jarv's mouth with her hand glowing with pale light.
It's too late for Ila: perhaps another life can still be saved. She grabs Nadya, hauling the woman out of the jaws as Imendri and the others hack at the white-furred beast from the coldest hell.
While Chiquq pulls Nadya from the creature's jaw, Dezső slashes at the creatures eyes, hoping to distract it enough that it loosens its grip, both on Nadya and on what feeble life remains in it. He makes eye contact with Chiquq and his eyes communicate an uncharacteristic sympathy for the loss of Ila.
With the tiefling investigator's surgical slash at the järv's eyes and Chiquq's extraction of Nadya, the threat is neutralized--the wolverine collapses finally, still twitching in its death throes. Nadya moans and flutters her eyes. The young girl, Hilma, runs to her side, weeping, and Nadya pats her with one bloodied hand and a crooked grin. Nadya reaches for something in her vest--a horn. "Blow it to bring the others," she says, weakly. "We can skin this damned thing, smoke the meat, even."
Dezső takes the horn and blows it long and hard three times before returning it to Nadya. He stays by her side and does whatever he can to make her comfortable -- helps her sit up, offers her water -- although he lacks skill in healing.
finding it difficult to believe that the monstrous creature was finally dead, Yrja kneels by Nadya's side, unstoppering a vial and offering her the contents to drink. "Here, it will make you feel better." But the thought continues treacherously. And who will make Ila feel better? If not for you, she would still be alive. But she squashes that quickly. They had saved a life, although at the cost of another. And the jarv had been very dangerous, who knows how many more victims it would have claimed hadn't they stopped it. She gives a sad look to the mammoth's body, then rises to go to Chiquq's side. She doesn't know how to console the hunter, so she settles for a squeeze of the arm and a few mumbled words of condolence.
The jarv falls at last, and Chiquq stands there breathing hard, her healing touch discharged. She barely hears Nadya's words, or the sharp low sound of the horn; instead the Kellid woman trudges back through the snow to the body of her sometime faithful companion.
First, the gear and harnesses that Ila had uncomplainingly carried for so many miles are removed and set to the side.
Then, Chiquq cleans the mammoth's coarse, warm fur of blood, by means of praying for pure water. In the deep chill of the region, the water that the spirits bring her is shortly frozen, but for the little window in which it is liquid, Chiquq uses it to rinse out Ila's blood.
When Ila is as clean as Chiquq can make her, with any viscera carefully tucked back inside the mammoth's skin, the Kellid woman begins to braid sections of the mammoth's fur, humming a low tuneless song beneath her breath. Imendri alone probably knows that this is not the ritual for merely an animal, but a version of what is done for actual family: the body cleaned, the hair carefully braided.
Ila has, or had, an awful lot of hair, and Chiquq's hands-- mittens taken off so that she can braid the fur-- begin to feel the cold long before the mammoth's fur has all been braided. Swallowing, the huntress leaves off with her braiding and begins to find stones, stabbing down into the snow with her spear to look for rocks. She begins the wordless process of covering the mammoth's still form with rocks and snow, to keep her flesh from the scavengers.
It probably takes quite a while, but if Nadya's people are arriving from the village to skin the jarv, then Chiquq has time.
Eventually, Chiquq considers her task done: there are no words of faith or gods, just a pat to the mound of snow and rocks.
"In the Kellid tongue, Ila means 'friend'," Chiquq says to nobody in particular. She seems to at last acknowledge the sympathetic pat that Yrja gave her, and Yrja's own words, with a little nod.
"...thank you. We must divide what Ila carried, or leave it here." The northlands leave little time for grief. Death will come upon you while you are crying as easily as at any other time.
In time, Dezső's attention is drawn to Chiquq's ritual. Once Nadya is resting securely, he rises and watches from a respectful distance, taking in the details and trying to understand the meaning. As Chiquq starts to dig up rocks, Dezső takes a crossbow bolt and uses it to dig up rocks as well, piling them a distance from Ila but in a location where Chiquq can use them if she chooses. Either way, he continues to dig up rocks until he is needed elsewhere.
The big, currently giant-sized Half-Elf is still huffing and puffing, and then suddenly collapses to catch his breath, gargantuan clouds of steam billowing from his face in the frigid air.
Imendri stumbles over to kneel beside Chiquq, watching quizzically, but intently, as she treats Ila as a family member. At some point he would suddenly shrink back to his normal huge Kellid self, and absentmindedly move or hand things to Chiquq as she needed them, then assist in building a burial mound if she lets him.
Eventually, if the stranger girl is still bleeding, Imendri will trot over and lay his hands on her, praying to the mountains in the distance.
As Nadya recovers and speaks in a low voice to Hilma, she gestures to Imendri and the others to help her skin the järv.
They work slowly due to the cold and shock of attack, but by the time Ila is covered tenderly by Chiquq, her clanspeople are there, having left their sleds behind. They bow to Dezső, the horn slung around his neck, although their eyes are still of fearful questions at the sight of tieflings.
As they see the mammoth and the wolverine, they begin singing what sounds like a low hymn in an old dialect of Skald, and begin their work in processing the wolverine in earnest. These are hard working people, used to the cold and scavenging for what they can from the unforgiving frozen wilderness that is their entire world.
Sooner than it seems possible, the butchering is done, along with the singing. Limping, bleeding, saddened, the villagers and the party return to the sleds, where the less able bodied traders (young folk like Hilma) have been busily putting up sturdy tents and lighting deeply dug fires with steaming samovars placed upon them.
"The storm. Almost here." Nadya is worn to the edge of exhaustion, but she retains the tone of a leader. "Into the tents. We'll eat inside." She gestures at the party.
She looks at Yrja. "That beast may die out here. Can you hobble it?" She's clearly referring to the donkey, Momo. Momo doesn't look too happy.
Nadya has directed the skinning of the wolverine well. It's stinky, but if the musk glands were to have contaminated the meat, it would have been nigh inedible. Chunks are grilled and dipped in a spicy lemony sauce, the origins of which are ineffable (fungus? moss? winter berries? probably winter berries.)
One of their animal friends has already died on this ill-fated adventure, Yrja was not about to let that happen a second time. She had known Momo since it was a foal and the poor donkey had followed her through thick and thin. Mostly thick snow and thin ice, lately. She shakes her head at Nadya's question, less as an answer and more as a refusal to entertain the possibility of more death.
"Can I borrow a tent from your people? If not, can someone help me build a shelter for the donkey? I'm thinking some cut branches, packed snow to form a low wall, I can get Momo to lie down, he's a good donkey, cover him and myself with all the blankets I have, I think we have some furs as well, we'll keep each other warm through the storm."
The words rush out with barely any pause for breath as the tiefling squints at the sky, trying to figure out the imminence of the storm.
The tents easily accommodate 10 people at a time--they are called lavvus, and the Kellids are vaguely familiar with them.
One of Nadya's kinsmen just leads Yrja and Momo inside. "Room," he says, in accented Taldan, and continues in Skald, saying something about foreigners in a dry chuckle.
The storm begins to gust as you prepare your entrances. There are four lavvus, with a central deerskin-shaded area where non-essential and snow resistant gear is piled, mainly used as a less than completely horrible way to scoot from one tent to the other. The sleds are lashed and staked and the smelly järv skin is hung on them to dry in the wind. Several people note the fine deer meat and give you positive affirmations; you'd be able to sell it in town if you wish.
Chiquq nods her thanks to Imendri and to Dezso, and quietly returns with the others to the hide tends. She offers up the stag meat freely to help supplement the feast, and refuses any compensation for it.
"We are strangers meeting. We have shed bled together, now we share food. This is the way of it. Ila gave her life for Nadya; I honor her sacrifice by swearing friendship to your people. This is the way."
Chiquq eats as much as any at the feast, and makes a point to slice off flesh from the heart of the jarv, with the blade of her belt knife.
"The jarv was a fierce creature. Its fierceness will be mine. You should all eat some of the heart, friends," she tells the rest of the group.
For the first good half, Dezső stays on the margin of the feast. He does not actually notice any signs of discomfort displayed by the villagers, but he knows by logic that they must be uncomfortable with his and Yrja's appearance. Dezső will sit next to Yrja at first, on the assumption that the villagers are not fighting to sit next to the tieflings. He will attentively observe all of the proceedings and readily partake of the jarv's heart, marveling at the coherence of Chiquq's worldview, which he continues to try to understand. Dezső will definitely partake of any alcoholic beverages on offer.
Late in the evening, he will ask Chiquq to share stories of Ila, and if she does he will contribute tales of the mammoth's bravery in some of the battles that have led the group to this point. He will also ask Nadya to share the story of the villager's encounter with the jarv.
If the feast continues even later, Dezső will try to position himself not too far away from Nadya, so he can hear her stories and take in more of her details.
He will bed down at some distance away from the others, at the coldest part of the tent (which he does not mind due to endure elements). He will briefly review his alchemist notes before sleep, hoping it will bring him new inspiration.
As the feast of hard-won järv meat and other supplies is under way, and there is actually some relaxed chatter among the Irriseni and our heroes, the man, Bors, who ushered Yrja and Momo into a tent, grunts suddenly and calls for silence. A clear, lilting voice is heard coming from the area between the tents.
(in Skald:)"Hail, friends from Waldsby. Mierul approaches. I would sing for my supper."
Nadya stiffens. She clearly knows who Mierul is. She recovers from her initial startled state, though, and forces down an uneasy look from her face. She clears her throat and replies.
"Honored Mierul, the people of Waldsby welcome you. Please enter and eat of our food, drink of our drink."
The flap of the lavvu opens and a hooded figure enters, showing flashes of bare blue skin and no boots. She seats herself well away from the fire, smiling demurely: a curious looking humanoid, with fey features, the curling horns of an arctic goat and ears besides, and the legs to match...but no fur at all, just smooth blue skin. Rather fetching, if odd. She dusts off the snow and pulls a well cared for traveling domra, a small mandolin like lute with three strings that shine like ice, and begins to tune it.
"Mmm, having guests, Nadya?" says Mierul idly, her large eyes casually flicking over the heroes before returning to her instrument, running a few scales to warm up.