A tall blonde woman calls across the stream. She has an Irrisen accent
"Where do you hail from?"
"I hail from Cassomir. I came here seeking to know the people the Realm wide. My companions and I, who I had only recently met on the road, learned of the strange weather in the area and came to investigate. It seems that for my fellows the journey has ended badly".
Athromir bows and says a prayer to the Goddess Iomadae to look after their souls.
"I may be presumptuous but based on your garb and bared weapons, am I correct in guessing that your group has come for the same reason?"
"Yes," the tall warrior responds. "A caravan went missing near here and the fate of its occupants remain unknown. I am Gaelin. Is there a safe place to cross the ice?"
Gaelin begins to look for a safe crossing.
Athromar shrugs, "I do not think so, I believe that this entire pass through is one elaborate trap starting with the snowman".
From the bank Athromar pulls his hemp rope out of his bag and ties one end to a heavy crossbow bolt. He ties the other end to a tree. He fires the rope laden bolt to as far as it will reach, careful not to hit the new group of travelers.
"There, using that rope should at least allow me to pull any of you who may fall in, back out".
The bolt flies true, and the rope crosses the seven-meter width of the stream without incident.
The blonde woman grabs the rope, hitching a knot expertly around a tree and then waiting for Athromar to secure his end. Once the rope is taut, she crosses the ice quickly, her feet sure and dexterous. She is dressed in a mottled white and black patterned fur tunic, vest, coat, and pants with warm-looking white boots. She is pretty, but she looks a bit bedraggled, her hair snarled in knots and her clothing looking damp and dirty. A small white rabbit peeks from her vest pocket.
She arrives at the other bank and sizes Athromar up. She speaks again in that rich sing-song Skaldi accent
"You do not look like a Nostravu*. Perhaps you are as you say you are. Perhaps"
Skaldi*
Athromar cocks his head, "I fear I do not know the reference. I am a follower of Iomadae just what I appear to be, my Lady. Who are you?"
Ecaterina bows slightly to Athromar
"My name is Ecaterina. I am a winter witch from Irrisen. My Grandmother, Yelizaveta, was Queen before the current one was put in place by mighty Baba Yaga. Yet my Grand Aunt, Queen Elvanna, has labeled my branch of the family as outcasts. We still hold some rank, as befitting our station as Witches of the Winter, but we have been largely banished from Whitethrone. My Mother and her Sisters have been keeping an eye on Elvanna however, and they believe that she is planning something. Something that must soon come to pass, as the time of her own replacement as Queen is coming. I have only recently been reunited with my mother, after enduring most of my childhood as a captive of the foul Fey of Chillblight. When my Mother heard of a strange portal being opened, she dispatched me to investigate what it was, suspecting that it was caused by one of Elvanna's agents, most probably one of her Daughters or Granddaughters."
Ecaterina smiles wryly
'As you can see, this portal is not your usual magic. Something strange is afoot, and I aim to find out what Aunt Elvanna is up to."
Gaelin hauls himself carefully across on the rope. Despite his broad frame, he is quite agile. When he reaches the far bank, he extends his hand to Athromar. "Well met. The further we travel, the more we realize how perilous this wood has become. Allies are most welcome."
Athromar listens intently to Ecaterina's explanation, "If you are correct in this then there is much more to this than just an odd weather pattern. A deliberate plot is afoot that threatens the whole of Taldor".
Dangerous though it may be, this is just the opportunity I have been seeking to make a name for myself...
As Gaelin approaches, Athromar graps his hand in a firm shake, "This may be the most important encounter I will ever have. No doubt you and your companions arriving has saved me from death by hypothermia or worse. If you are all here to investigate and out a stop to the plans of these witches, I am with you".
Uninhibited by armor or an abundance of gear, Tristan stays light on his feet as he crosses the ice. "Greetings friend. I am Tristan, assistant to our village's healer."
"So you hail from Heldren? Was this party oranized by the villagers or did you simply find these like minded companions to investigate this odd weather?"
"We are those who volunteered," Gaelin answers, "but we go with the blessings of the council."
The others cross as well. The path through the snow stretches ahead
Athromar greets the others who come across, "Well, no way but forward. Shall we go?"
Athromar heads back to the path assuming the others follow. Though not skilled in recognizing traps, Athromar keeps his eyes open for anything unusual on the path.
Perception
Gaelin nods in agreement. "We are getting closer, I believe."
Athromar turns to the group as he notices them moving slowly. "Do any of you require healing?"
"I can feel that I was seriously wounded by those ice creatures," Gaelin says. "How fare the rest of you?"
Jeydavu limps along bringing up the rear with Chtonthoth. Answering Athromar and Gaelin's query he says, "Aye, those beast took me down for a moment, I don't know who revived me, but I could do with some more healing."
As the group readies itself at the far side of the stream, Ecaterina gasps
"Borzhe Moy! Look at that drift!"
She points at a snow drift about ten meters away. Two booted feet stick out from the side of it, with the legs disappearing into the bank
Athromar nods at Gaelin and Jeydavu, "I can assist with your wounds. Iomadae, lend vitality to those who have assisted your faithful servant on this day".
Channel Energy
"We should investigate Ecaterina though it may be a trap, I am certain all of my allies perished in the icy river".
"I am most grateful for the blessing," Gaelin says.
Then he stops in his tracks at the sight of the snowdrift. "This is indeed a rather conspicuous arrangement." Gaelin regards the surroundings for signs of a struggle, or even tracks as to how this person came to this place.
The drift looks undisturbed, the boots are covered in snow and ice. The body had lain here for quite a while. Since it snowed last, at the least
"If someone has fallen here, I do not know if I can leave them where they lie in this accursed snow." Warily, Gaelin approaches the boots and carefully begins to remove some of the snow to see what lies beneath.
Athromar loads his heavy crossbow in case something jumps out at Gaelin.
Gaelin soon discovers the body is just that, a frozen corpse of an unfortunate cold victim.
Gaelin realizes with a shock that he knows the man when he uncovers his face. Old Man Dansby had been a taciturn farmer from Heldren. Gaelin only knew him in passing, he had seen him in the Silver Stoat drinking on market days. Dansby had once been a soldier in the Taldane Border Guard, and it looked as if he had gone into the wood with his old gear. His clothing is an old military tunic, hose and boots. He has a composite longbow and a quiver full of arrows (12). A wicked looking dagger and a keen hand axe are still attached to his wide leather belt. Also on the belt is a small pouch with a scattering of coins in it (14gp, 28sp, 44 cp)
Gaelin sighs. "It's Dansby," he says. "He must have tried investigating things himself. He hauled out his old gear."
He regards the weapons. "We should not leave him like this. If nothing else, there are bandits about who will happily help themselves. Perhaps we could lay him in a more dignified state. We are fortunate to have a man of the cloth among us. We can return his possessions to his kin, if he had any. Do any of you know if these items have magical properties we ought to be aware of?"
"Sadly, I did not ask Iomadae for the gift to ascertain whether magic was present in inanimate objects. Certainly, I can say a brief prayer for him and we can set a cairn upon him to keep scavengers away until we give him a proper burial. Is that acceptable Gaelin?"
"I think it is the best thing to do," Gaelin responds.
Ecaterina concentrates and passes her hands over the items
"This axe has been ensorcelled. It with hit surer than normal"
Athromar seeks out rocks for a quick burial before moving on.
Enough river stones line the bank of the frozen stream that a cairn can be set up.
Tristan bows his head in a moment of silence for the deceased before assisting with the collection of rocks.
"Dansby," Gaelin says with bowed head, "may your feet find the path to the next world surely and swiftly."
Once the cairn is settled and Gaevis has said a few rods Athromar prays in silence over the site and stands.
"We should be off. Too many have died already from this cursed weather. If we can put a stop to it, then we must for the safety of those who are unable to defend themselves".
Athromar begins to head down the path, wherever it leads.
The path they follow begins to climb above the forest floor. A ridge line brings them higher, but the area is still forested. The trail is still obvious: horses and men traveled this way.
The road has been long and tiring. The cold has begun to penetrate their cores
as they climb higher the wind picks up, bringing the sounds of ... Something
Perception
Perception 1d20+1
Athromar murmurs a prayer and the cold leaves his body
As he warms, the sounds resolve into speech. Too faint for him to make out, but more than one person talking ahead
Tama shivers, as her limbs start to numb
cold damage, non lethal
Jeydavu begins to feel the cold chill penetrate his thick skin. He stops and rummages through a pack on Chtonthoth. He pulls out a pair of fur lined, leather pants and a matching jacket and puts them on.
Gaelin trudges ahead, resilient to the bitter cold.
Athromar pauses, "I hear something ahead. We should proceed slowly and with caution. Are any of you adept at stealth?"
Tristan shivers, his extremities tingling slightly.
Ecaterina shivers
"Borzhe Moy! This weather is as bad as my home!"
"Stealth?" Gaelin asks. "Not particularly. Whatever lies ahead, we will wind up facing it one way or another. Let us be ready for whatever we find." Gaelin goes on, "It sounds like there is more than one person up there. Friend or foe, we can't be certain." He presses on, ready to draw his greatsword at the first sign of danger.
Athromar loads his crossbow and proceeds to follow Gaelin.
The group forges ahead, making no effort to disguise their approach
As they climb the trail the voices still, leaving just the wind in the trees
The come to a clearing in the forest. A small high-banked fire sits unattended, sending up a thin trail of smoke. There is a female wrapped up in a filthy fur, tied to a tree with hempen rope. She looks unconscious.
Since it is obvious their presence is known, Gaelin calls out, "We know you are here. There is no use hiding. Show yourselves and state your business here."
Gaelin doesn't see or hear anything, but as he looks about there is the *twang* of bowstrings loosed. Three arrows come speeding out from the snowy tree line from three separate locations, winging their way to Gaelin
Crit confirm.