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Krystae gives up a few moments of not being able to identify the tracks in the area. She simply looks around for a moment to get an idea if anything is hiding nearby, waiting to ambush them...
While she keeps an eye on the treeline she listens to Droviz and Havelock discussing the magic styles of the world. Droviz's commentary on the treachery of his home piques her interest, though, and she wants until an opportune time. When Droviz grabs the leg in the snow Krystae pipes up. "And just where is home, Droviz? That why I know to avoid it." She smiles at him.
Droviz tenses up for a moment, then sighs and resumes dragging the body out.
"Since you ask," he says, "'home' used to be the cave of Cocyrdavarin in the City of Zirnakaynin in Sekamina. You probably won't have any difficulty steering clear unless you have a deep and unexplored need to commit suicide by spelunking underneath Nirmathas."
He shoots a glance at Elen and winks.
"Some elven nations are not nearly as pleasant as Kyonin, which itself can be unpleasant at times," Elen comments.
It had taken Ragnar a while to realize that the child riding around in the fallen bandit was no longer possessing the body. He looked around, trying to remember when that had happened. He seemed perturbed and had a quick conversations with the invisible spirits around him. It was fast and in his native tongue, so following it was difficult even for those who could make out some of his ancient language.
One of the spirits, probably the one who had been inside the body, was clearly upset and was stomping around making deep, small footprints int he snow, kicking up drifts and throwing small rocks at the effigies hanging from the trees.
He seems to be asking what happened, and why the body of the bandit wasn't holding up. The details are hard to make out because of the one sided nature of the conversation. In the end, he was trying to placate the spirit with promises to "find her another one"
He was so involved with what he was doing that it took him a while to realize what the living members of their company were doing. He blinked a few times and went to help pull the body free.
Recently, one of Heldren’s more esteemed hunters, a man named Dryden Kepp, returned from a hunting foray in the Border Wood with a story about a giant white weasel roaming the forest. The townsfolk of Heldren
scoffed at his tale (Dryden was known to nip from his hip flask on a regular basis), which only spurred Dryden to hunt down the beast so he could make a trophy of it and prove everyone wrong.
This is clearly his body.
You see the dead body of a hunter of some kind. Aside from his bloody and ripped (but still usable) cold-weather outfit, he also wears a pair of homemade snowshoes, and though his shortbow is snapped in half, two very well-made arrows remain in his quiver.
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Krystae listens to Droviz's explanation of his home; however, none of the names ring any bells within her experience. "Well... sounds like... a lovely place, Droviz." She smiles wryly, hoping to relieve some of the tension the strange elf appeared to be suffering from. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me, my friend. As long as you prove trustworthy and loyal I will stand by you."
Once the body was pulled from the snow, Krystae recognized Dryden Kepp... more so from the hip flask he was notorious for drinking from, than from his face. "He mentioned something about a giant, white weasel. He apparently went hunting for it, and either ran afoul of it, or something else. We should be extremely weary from this point forward. I'll see if I can determine which direction the creature headed from here."
Krystae will examine the tracks once more to determine the location the creature here left towards...
"Hey, you know me," Droviz says, winking at Krystae. "I'm a good and loyal ally as long as we're making good money and having fair shares together."
He looks down on Kepp. "A giant weasel, huh? Well, I've seen weirder things. Only question now is: do we bury him in the snow again, or do we dig a deeper hole?"
"The snow will preserve him, and we have little time to waste as it is.
We have already been ambushed once so far, let us not give our foes more time to plan for our arrival."
"Agreed, when we return there will be time to bury him properly."
Elen does not speak the possibility that they will not be able to return.
Casting one last long glance towards the corpes, before it is buried completely in snow, the Tengu professor turns away and shudders.
In truth, the shudder has nothing to do with the cold or the sight of death, rather it is the deep buried instincts inherited from the carrion birds that his race resembles that has him shivering.
Disgusting...
You move on down the trail for some time. A cold wind blows through the forest atop the ridge. Heavy snow burdens the boughs of the evergreen trees, but someone has apparently cleared the snow from a large patch of ground to dig in the pine-needle-carpeted soil. Bloody animal tracks mark the snow where the trail descends from the ridge above.
You see that the smaller branches on two of the trees near the cleared area are moving... almost like they were clenching and unclenching fingers into a fist.
You recognize these trees as Frost Firs, related to treants.
You recognize the bloody tracks as belonging to a giant weasel.
"Be careful, we have company."
The Tengu takes a step in front of the group, holds his hands open and spread wide in a none threatening gesture before seemingly addressing the trees.
"I see you there master...uh...tree, we are not hostile, is there a way we can avoid bloodshed?"
After finishing his speech, the professor then tilts his head to one side, feeling suddenly foolish as he address something that may not even be sentient.
"You what?" Droviz says, gobsmacked, as he looks from the Tengu to the tree. Then he looks from the bloody tracks to the tree. "Um. Hello, mister... tree... Did uh, did you do that? 'Cause I'm sure we wouldn't taste all that good."
'At least I'm not carrying an axe...'
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Krystae examines the tracks and recognizes them as belonging to a giant weasel. She stands up from looking at the tracks. "Well, I believe we know exactly where the weasel came from..."
"Be careful, we have company."
The Tengu takes a step in front of the group, holds his hands open and spread wide in a none threatening gesture before seemingly addressing the trees.
"I see you there master...uh...tree, we are not hostile, is there a way we can avoid bloodshed?"
After finishing his speech, the professor then tilts his head to one side, feeling suddenly foolish as he address something that may not even be sentient.
Kyrstae goes rigid and slips an arrow from her quiver, putting it to the string of her bow. She looks around again, seeking to find whatever Havelock pointed out, until she hears him talking with a tree. "Professor, have you lost your wits? Why are you talking to a tree?"
The Tengu, feeling more foolish by the second, especially after being called out on his actions tries to explain, while at the same time not moving or changing his pose.
"The tree is moving, I think it is alive, and more likely than not, also sentient.
I am...trying to make....new....friends."
"I'll try sylvan, creatures of nature tend to speak that."
The trees speak back.
"Then you had best keep your distance, meatbags. No one wants you here."
They make no offensive moves and keep close to the bare patch of ground.
"What'd he say?" Droviz asks, a little startled to actually have a tree speak any language out loud. "And uh... where does it keep its mouth?"
Ragnar's eyes went wide as the tree near them responded to Keeper Elen's strange words. He had heard of such "living" trees, but had been told they cared little for the affairs of men.
That the tree was responding to a World Keeper was not a shock in itself. That was exactly the sort of thing Keepers were said to do. Ragnar was simply awed to be watching it.
He stared silently, hardly daring to breathe.
"Eh...linguist thought I be, I cannot judge the voice of this creature, but I do sense that we may be at a disadvantage when it comes to diplomacy here..."
"...
I miss Helios..."
"The fir says that we'd better keep our distance, and no one wants us here. Is the trail we seek through these firs?" Elen looks worried that she is now the spokesperson for the group.
You can easily go around the grove, but it will cause delays. You are fairly confident you wouldn't get lost but you would lose 20-30 minutes. Of course, straying from the path presents its own dangers...
"We should come to a consensus quickly, if we go around we will loose time, but the longer we hesitate the longer that time will be."
"Let's go around, we don't have time for a fight. "
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"Hmyeah," Droviz says, eyeing the fir. "I don't mind a scrap, but a grove full of moving, carnivorous trees? That is not a winning proposition unless you're willing to set them on fire and wait for them to burn out or manage to run through."
Havelock stops briefly as Droviz speaks.
"Set them on fire did you say? Hm..."
The Tengu briefly strokes his beak as he considers something, but eventually he shrugs and follows the others.
"Maybe next time..."
"Shh! We don't know they can't understand Taldane!"
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Ragnar only caught a few of the words in his allies rapid exchange, but at the discussion of going around and leaving the trees in peace he nodded slowly and seemed quite ready to move away from the forest guardian.
"Let's hustle, folks," Droviz says. "A bit of jogging might help us make up for lost time."
"Speak for yourself, being an intellectual usually doesn't build a strong body.
Ah hells, I will try..."
You begin to move around the grove.
You spot a bear trap partially obscured by the snow, before you step on it.
If you failed the perception check, roll 1d100:
You trigger a bear trap. Roll an attack against yourself at +10. If you hit, roll 2d6+3 damage against yourself, and your speed is cut in half until you remove it with a DC 20 disable device check, DC 22 Escape Artist, or DC 26 strength.
26-100: nothing happens.
You have a moment to react, cast any spells, etc, and then continue on without further incident. You travel for about an hour further down the trail, until you arrive at a clearing.
More than a dozen boulder-sized chunks of ice litter the clearing ahead where a strange hut sits perched on tree trunks atop a raised mound of snow-covered earth.
"There's more than one! You don't suppose the tree folk set them, do you?" asks Elen as she deftly avoids a trap, worriedly looking down at her bare feet in the snow.
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Ragnar managed not to find a trap the hard way.
Droviz screams as a bear trap suddenly clamps onto his leg.
"" he shrieks as his blood stains the snow. " Get this damn' thing off of me!"
"Damned be! What idiotic...Droviz!"
Snapped out of his anger, the Tengu turns to the masked warrior with concern in his eyes.