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Hinagiku nods in agreement with the plan; going out to investigate, infiltrate icerift, and leaving Dralia here whithout any realistic way of leaving. It may be harsh, but she had to agree that it was the best way to keep everyone alive, though she was sure that the woman could easily be saved. One day, when the wound was closed, maybe then there would be enough time and resources to steer her away from consorting with demons, but now... it seemed unlikely. Most cultist followed their demonic leaders out of fear it seemed, but it took a special kind of devotion to ally oneself with devils and to devoutly follow and teach one's children about a demonic deity.
Without a word, Hinagiku heads back to the woman's side. After politely saluting her with a bow, she takes place within the summoner's personal vicinity.
"Miss Dralia, I know that you wish to leave soon to take your revenge, but could you not wait some time? Actually, how long could you wait? You have spent a whole night to rest, wouldn't another one be good for you to retrieve your forces? ... you wouldn't be willing to head out into the cold, by yourself, into the harsh environment, without preparations would you?" she asks, hoping to get the woman to give away some information that they might use to convince her to stay.
Dralia sits cross-legged facing the wall. She jumps slightly when Hinagiku approaches her, but settles down once she realizes who it is that is speaking to her.
"Hmm." she closes her eyes. "I do not feel Zahni's call. I must wait, then bring her to my side. Then I shall find and kill Arastrax. I will find and kill him, even if it costs me my life."
She stops, pulling out a small vial from her pouch. She twists it open, revealing a rubber dropper. She drips a few drops of liquid into each of her eyes. Blinking a few times, she continues, "I cannot wait. Arastrax is a traitor, and I will kill him."
"Knowing where the clan sleeps should not be an issue. The clan is packing up and leaving here entirely, and I suspect they are unlikely to come back to this cave anytime soon. While Dralia might function as an ally, that assumes that whomever is controlling her is not an enemy. Since we cannot know their motives, and it is hardly unheard of for demons to backstab each other, we cannot assume she will not backstab us when her master feels it convenient," she says, attempting to allay Ary's concerns.
"Allow me to heal you up before we head out, Ary."
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Ehren retrieves a small scrap of paper and slowly scrawls a message to Irabeth, keeping his handwriting as legible as possible. He pauses several times, debating on whether to inform her about Dralia, Arastrax, and the shadow demons they fought. Complicated indeed. He settles for keeping the message simple, but hands it off for the others to inspect.
In the meantime he takes out another scrap of food, preparing to call for their messenger.
Irabeth,
Our party has not yet reached Icerift. We intervened in a battle between Kellid warriors and a small group of demons. We emerged victorious, but were forced to spend the night with the surviving Kellid's clan to recover. We will be continuing our scouting mission shortly.
I will send another message once we have a better grasp of the situation at Icerift. Until then, Isilme would like for you to have our forces regroup at Mantarin.
If possible, have Sosiel prepare some sending spells. Inform Silvershore that Clan Roaring Sabretooth will be heading in their direction.
Ehren
Xanderghul sighs. That his teammates preferred snappy quips to logical assessment was annoying, but heroes tended to be like that. Still, he doesn't understand why they're being so wishy-washy. "I agree with the others about seeking Icerift, but I'm not sure what we're doing talking about involving the army or not going at all. We came up here to look for information before we decided wheyther or not to do that, and we only made it up half the mountain before we went off on this diversion. We still need to actually do what we came up here to do in the first place."
"Come, let's scout out Icerift. See what we can do ourselves. Didn't we take out a hundred and fifty cultists basically alone just earlier this week? What are you so afraid of?"
A rock ptarmigan answers Ehren's call, pecking at the offered food while patiently holding still for the young druid to tie his note to its leg. Once it finishes its free meal it flutters off eastward, in direction of Mantarin - Ehren's magic guiding it unfailingly in the correct direction.
Before the heroes embark, Clan-Liege Llyr of Roaring Sabretooth bids them farewell. "Unwaith eto, rhaid i mi ddiolch i chi am eich cymorth, dieithriaid. Yr wyf yn dymuno pob lwc i chi eich helfa. Efallai y bydd eich saethau hedfan wir."
"Again, I must thank you for your aid, southlanders. I wish you luck in your hunt. May your arrows fly true."
Dralia doesn't even seem to notice the heroes leaving. She sits in the back of the cavern, mumbling to herself, wringing her hands occasionally.
The heroes head out into the cold. It is overcast and breezy. They slowly trudge through the snow, westward towards Icerift.
"So cold," murmurs Ayavah. "I miss Varisia. The smell of the sea..."
It's as if the earth itself cries out in anguish here. It mourns... but overall there is a feeling of regret.
A voice - in your head. Strangely, the voice sounds exactly like you. It says: "I trusted her, fed her, clothed her. She said she'd help me. But she betrayed me. Why did she betray me?"
The group pauses at the base of a particularly large peak - though it is out of sight, Ehren knows without a doubt that Icerift rests in its lofty peaks. A road was paved here once, blasted into the very side of the mountain, though the decades of snowfall have returned it mostly to the earth.
The "road" leads up 750 feet into the mountain to a wide shelf. The way is blocked entirely by a mostly decayed wall. The most visible structure is a three-tiered octagonal structure that juts out from the mountainside. Beyond the watchtower, the road continues up the mountain, to Icerift. The tower itself serves as a fine bottleneck for any attacking parties, at least, it would if the walls were in better repair. At this distance it is difficult to tell what lies within the fortification, though lights shine from atop the tower, and within the tower's many arrow slits.
While the man-made path up the mountain is certainly the easiest way up, you could climb up and around the watchtower entirely. Peering up the slopes you note that you'd have to scale at least 100 feet of sheer rock face to get around the watchtower (DC 25 climb checks).
The tower itself is a freestanding stone structure, though it appears constructed from the mountain itself. Such a marvel of engineering could only be of dwarven make.
Squinting into the snow and up the mountain, Xanderghul puts a hand across his forehead to block some of the light. "Seems there's a dwarven tower up there, on the path. If there's anyone up there, it'll be difficult for us to get our forces back."
"Of course, we could just take the place ourselves and not worry so much. I might be able to use handy grapnel to get us up the mountain without having to take the path."
"And nights dancing around the campfire with the caravans, telling stories and singing songs," Val agrees wistfully. "We'll just have to make sure we survive this so we can get back to that some day."
"Are you certain? The cliffside looks rather sheer, it'd be difficult for us to climb any amount of that face. Oh... magic." she nods. "I'd still not feel completely safe climbing it with Jorsal's goons nearby... though it's definitely a better direction to go if we want to scout without being seen at all."
Ayavah tilts her head. "I could turn some of us into vapor and we could slowly fly up. The wind isn't strong enough to hurt us right now. But I couldn't turn all of us, just... four."
As the group approaches Icerift, Ehren grows increasingly melancholy for no discernible reason. He could tell that there was something distinctly wrong with this place, but the exact nature of the problem eludes him. There was no crippling pain, as there had been at Kenabres. Just a great pang of sadness and regret that echoed in his heart.
Ehren is seemingly oblivious to the discussion on how to proceed, but abruptly provides his input.
"I could create some footholds on the rock face. With a rope, that would make it fairly trivial to climb.
"Or, if we are going to use Ayavah's spell, I could just use Terendelev's scale on the rest of us, and fly up myself. That would be faster, but a bit more conspicuous, I imagine."
Pulling out a rope and grappling hook, and his crossbow, Xanderghul enchants all with a spell cast with the power of his cactus ring. The rope and the hook vanish, curling up into a little tiny bar the shape and size of a crossbow bolt. Loading it into his crossbow, he fires it up to the apex of the mountain.
The bolt snags its target, growing little metal roots and then unspooling a rope from the end of it. "It can actually carry you up by itself, if you're bad at climbing." he says. "Let's go. No time to waste."
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Minutes after they had left the Roaring Sabertooth's cage, Hinagiku had reverted back to her vulpine shape; somehow she had grown accustomed to it... it felt more in tune with the changes in her thoughts... or maybe she simply needed to know the difference was not in her mind, but in her body...
On their way to Icerift, Hinagiku notices Ehren's uneasiness and slowly approaches him.
"The world... the land, you can hear it too Mr. Ehren? My... my mother is whispering to me. It feels like I might have a sibling within the walls up there. Yes, a sibling turned wrong, who disappointed ब्रह्मा." she stops for a moment. "Sorry, I know it sounds strange, but it's there."
"Yes, a spell to climb would be safer mr. Xanderghul. But we will also need a way to travel down when we come back." she adds, not wanting to be struck up the cliff is anything bad was waiting for them in the caste.
With the magical rope dangling, Hinagiku makes her way to the cliff's base and assumes a bent position, hands joined, to help up anyone who would tie the two ropes together.
"You believe there is someone like you up in icerift, Hinagiku? Perhaps that means that we will be able to reason with them. Still, whomever it is must be rather powerful, or have allies, if they are able to give Jorsal pause. We should continue with caution."
"A sibling...?" Ehren replies glumly, a little slow to respond to Hinagiku. He closes his eyes and concentrates briefly, brushing away the feelings that were bleeding into him. By the time he opens his eyes, the meaning of her words have sunken in. "Ah. I suppose that you would think of them that way. It is the truth, after all. But yes, I feel it too. Something terrible must have happened here... something that needs to be set right."
"Here, hand me the other rope," Ehren says, already taking out Terendelev's silver scale. He appreciated the help that Hinagiku was offering, but even with assistance, he was liable to take a nasty fall.
Ehren uses Terendelev's magic to float up to the rope, tying them together to form one, contiguous support that leads from the top of the cliff to the bottom of the mountain. The heroes then use the enchanted rope to lift themselves up, one at a time, until the entire group is up on the mountain bluff. The heroes continue forwards for awhile, crouching low to the ground to let their white cloaks blend them into the snowy mountain side.
They proceed upwards and around the encampment. Below, the small fortification appears to be sparsely guarded. What appears to be a single nabasu sits perched on the roof of the watchtower, its back turned to the heroes on the mountain as it scans the entry and exit of the watchpost for any signs of life. On the other side of the fortification, a flight of stone-hewed stairs winds up the mountain side, partially exposed due to the activity of what appear to have been hundreds of creatures climbing up the mountainside.
Xanderghul makes sure to collect his rope and grappling hook before they continue. When they reach the fortification with its defender, he murmurs, "Maybe we should just go on now without fighting. We're only here to look, after all. Right?"
Ehren nods. "It is no surprise that they are already up here. The question is whether they have taken the castle, or if they are simply camping on its doorstep. We should proceed carefully... and be prepared to run."
"Agreed. We should avoid fighting, as anyone raising alarm could possibly be fatal to us," Isilme says, concuring with Ehren and Xanderghul. "If we can get in and out without Jorsal's forces being any the wiser, we will be better off for it, as will out army."
Isilme heads out in front of the group a ways, attempting to scout a path forward, out of the sight of enemy watchmen.
The heroes continue up the mountainside. It is slow going, climbing up and over the craggy mountain side through the heavy snow, and they trudge monotonously onwards for over an hour.
They hear the battle before they see it - down below on the carved path is an enormous battle between demons and strange, ugly white-furred humanoid creatures, some of which are mounted atop ferocious polar bears. The demonic forces are mostly dretches and schir, though there are some babau, as well as a large number of abominations - Jorsal's creations. The total number of combatants must number in the hundreds.
Jorsal himself does not appear to be present at this encounter. Icerift itself is visible in the distance, an enormous construction further up the mountain.
Ayavah's eyes widen at the sight. "Wow," she says breathlessly. "What are those?"
The white-furred humanoid creatures are wikkawaks. They are a sort of bugbear adapted to live in the snowy north, and are therefore resistant to even magical forms of cold. Bugbears are the the biggest and strongest of the common goblinoids. Wikkawaks speak Giant, Goblin and Common.
Well adapted to the cold, wikkawaks are masters of stealth and arctic survival, and they have the ability to quell lanterns, torches, and campfires with a thought. Wikkawaks leave no trail in even the heaviest of snows, though salt sprinkled on snow can supposedly reveal a wikkawak’s tracks. Of course, by the time one has discovered a wikkawak’s trail, it could already be too late.
As well as being considerably stronger, healthier and more light footed than the average human, wikkawaks have an affinity for moving quietly despite their bulk. Combined with their natural darkvision, these qualities add up to a creature very well suited for raids on camp sites in the dead of night.
Like most bugbears, wikkawaks normally lead a solitary existence, preying on isolated settlers and hunters like pale arctic serial killers. Their powerful noses can sniff out a humanoid or animal over great distances. The rank smell of fear is a powerful stimulant to wikkawaks, and an individual wikkawak hunter might stalk and terrorize a potential victim for several nights, “steeping” its prey in dread and terror before finally pouncing. Wikkawaks consider humanoid flesh a great delicacy, and one might freeze a dead humanoid in a remote area, only to return to its grisly cache again and again to savor the taste of the victim for weeks on end. Wikkawaks enjoy keeping mementos of their victims, and prefer fingers as trophies.
Wikkawaks tend to live in tribal units, with the biggest and meanest of them the tribal leader by default. They tend to have but two goals in life: food and treasure.
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The armies are evenly matched by number.... Jorsal's forces appear to be less than formerly expected, indicating that he experienced heavy losses. In particular, his abominations now number barely over two dozen. However the white-furred creatures, with their primitive weapons, are out-matched by the demonic forces skill-wise.
The main advantage the humanoid creatures possess is that they appear to not be slowed down by the snowfall at all - allowing them to employ repeated hit-and-run tactics - as they move far more quickly than the demons could ever hope to.
"Not sure. They kind of remind me of bugbears. Whatever they are, they look nasty and particularly unhappy. And like they're putting up a decent fight."
"Those appear to be Wikkawaks, a northern form of Bugbear," she says in regards to Val's astute observation. "Given that Jorsal is tied up fighting them, perhaps we could take a moment to use some magic and subterfuge to aid them against Jorsal? Do you think doing so could make a difference in the outcome Ary?"
"Tempting, but anything that might draw unwanted attention is too much of a risk," Ehren says, observing the ongoing battle with a frown. He could barely tell what was going on amidst the chaos. "If anything, I think this is our chance to get closer to the castle, while the bulk of their forces are occupied by Jorsal's army."
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Ary's eyes dart across the battlefield, before she grins. "They look evenly matched... or close to it. If we aid the Ewoks, they're sure to win. Right now, their advantage is their mobility. Are they... friendly to outsiders? Normally? If not, then it might be best to let them weaken each other quite a lot... and pick off what remains, or try diplomacy if the Ewoks win."
This situation was certainly asking to be turned to their favor. Ary's assessment of the order of battle was sufficient to convince her of that. The trick then would be to maximize the benefits to the Wikkawaks so they win while keeping out of sight themselves. "We need not intervene openly at first. Using illusions, Xanderghul and I could attempt to sow confusion amongst the demons, leaving them at a disadvantage. Done properly, we might be able to goad the remaining forces into attacking the main pass towards Drezen."
A brief visit from a crone who had taken a vow of silence after the victory might be sufficient to convince them of the divine nature of their support, after which they might be convinced to make themselves unintentionally useful to the crusades by pitting them against the defenses at the entrance to the pass towards Drezen.
Xanderghul shrugs. "Not nearly so mysterious as we might have thought." he says with a sigh. "Damn, I was really hoping it was going to be something more exciting than g&*@#*n bugbears. So... Are we gonna help them, or are we gonna sneak into the castle and see what's up with this corrupted menhir or whatever?"
"And if we help them, what do we do when they turn on us and try to strip the flesh from our bodies?"
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"I doubt these wikkawaks are related to Icerift, or if they are, they are likely only tangentially related. It is not believable that they were responsible for the slaughter of the crusader forces in the castle, nor for the deaths of druids in this area. They also do not explain Hinagiku's and Ehren's sense that something is amiss."
"As far as making use of them goes, that is why we begin by aiding them without revealing ourselves. There cannot ever be a point where we as a group appear before them, clearly, but sending them a message through an illusion, or by disguising one of us as a wikkawak would allow us to do so without risking them turning on us. Surely an illusionist as capable as yourself is up to the task of pulling a spectacular con job on them, no?"
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"Hmm..." mutters Xanderghul, pride swelling his heart and fueling his thought process. "Yes, I suppose you're right. I have an idea, then. I can render Ehren invisible if he wishes, and then Ehren can transform into a small bird. While he flies quickly in and then out, just to see what's going on inside the castle... I can conjure an image of a monstrous arctic creature... perhaps a remorhaz or a frost wyrm, high in the mountain and slithering down it." He thinks some more. "Perhaps on the other side of the mountain, so that it flanks the demonic forces with the wikkawaks, and I can include a booming voice that declares that the enemies of the wikkawak, or of the cold, are doomed to suffer a slow freezing death or some nonsense like that."
He thinks some more. "Hmm... Perhaps a terrifying arctic gale, blowing up from the path below, and holding the images of ice-blue warriors that promise death to all those that stray within the mist. But only vaguely, so that it's extra-intimidating. You know, the vague images, I mean. Because it's difficult to see them, because the mist is so thick and scary."
"Unfortunately, I don't speak Goblin. Do any of you? It might be a problem communicating if we don't."
"No, I don't speak Goblin," Ayavah responds apologetically.
"I don't speak that many languages," Val agrees. "And if they're anything like regular bugbears, I doubt they're particularly friendly. So if we do interfere, let's go with the illusions and not get too close to the massive battle when there are only seven of us and hundreds of them."