Ragnar follows Krystae, but is absolutely awful at staying hidden.
"What's wrong? What?" Droviz whispers as he dives for cover.
A swarm of ravens dives and attacks the tarp, quickly shredding it to bits revealing a not no stealthy Ragnar.
"Yeah, I thought as much," Droviz sighs as he unslings sword and shield -- and slashes at the birds. "Trained, are they? Or aren't they proper birds? Should I be using cold iron?"
"I sincerely doubt you will disperse the swarm like that, but a little fire might just do the trick..."
"You shall be large and mighty in a moment, friend Ragnar," Elen calls to him in Elven.
Droviz kills one of the ravens... but there are so many...
Krystae's spear misses the nearest ravens. The ravens swarm over the now exposed Ragnar, pecking at his eyes.
Ragnar is blinded by the vicious ravens as his eyes are scratched and raked.
The blindness lasts for 1d4 days or until healed with remove blindness/deafness or a successful DC 20 Heal check.
Blind, hurt, angry, Ragnar felt lost and alone. He was massive and powerful but within him he was still that lost child who'd had his entire future stolen.
He bellowed like a wounded animal, lashing out with flailing arms, unable to do anything but frighten the flock.
Elen curses, unable to do anything against the swarm, and draws out her wand of curing.
"Anytime you want to throw a bomb at this lot would be champion, Prof!" Droviz shouts as he swings at the swarming ravens. "A really BIG bomb, for preference! Blast 'em out of the sky!"
Yes, I think we need some fire to solve this problem...
"Burn! Burn you second cousins, thrice removed!"
The ravens scatter after Havelock's bomb explodes. Nadya seems distraught. "Now they've seen us! Now... Nazhena will know you are here! She will kill my daughter for sure!"
"Then we must get to your daughter BEFORE that can happen! Come on, do not dawdle! Lead the way and hurry."
"Oh, for the use of a Fireball," Droviz sighs as he gets ready to do some more running.
Elen uses the wand to heal Ragnar's wounds, and tries to treat his eyes.
"Does that help? Can you see better, friend?" she murmurs to him in Elvish.
Elen's ministrations cleaned the blood away from Ragnar's eyes. The left one had deep cuts where the bird's claws had opened him from brow to cheek. The right one was simply gone, plucked away by a savage beak.
The big man was surprisingly calm now that the birds were gone. His ragged breath slowed to its usual barely there pace as Elen carefully worked. He blinked, trying to focus. He kept opening and closing his right eyelid. It drooped and leaked bloody tears without an eye behind it to hold it taught.
"Better. Thank you. Cannot see with this one. Hurts."
Elen winces and mutters, "I'm afraid that's because there's no eye there to see with anymore, Ragnar. One of those cursed birds plucked it out. Come on, we'll have to go now, but hold this cloth to it when you can. I'll pack it with clean bandages when we get to stop."
Ragnar winced a little and sighed. "Does not hurt like it should. Nothing does here. Not sure why."
He stood solemnly and started trudging forward, holding the cloth to his face.
From the grey sky a black shape returned, another dark bird.
It was Tulo, the former familiar of Khor Norland, who's spirit had joined Ragnar's entourage. The bird had become lost in the flock, but returned now to land on Ragnar's broad shoulder. It had an in it's beak. It laid the gruesome trophy down in the yeti pelt.
"I got it back." the bird squawked.
"Thank you." Ragnar rumbled with no hint that that the bird speaking was in any way strange. "It is too late now though. The red threads have been severed."
"So... can I have it then? You have no idea how hard it was not to eat this on the way back down here."
Ragnar shrugged with his other shoulder. "If you wish."
With a snap of the bird's beak the eye was gone.
"Oh yeah, that's the stuff right there."
"Weeeell, I wouldn't necessarily say that," Droviz says. "A bit of magic could probably make it work for you. You know, put it in amber, maybe hang it over the socket on a chain?"
"Too late! You want it back now you're going to have to wait a while, and you ain't gonna like it when you get it." the bird said with a raucous noise that sounded a little too awful to be called a laugh.
Droviz blinks at the talking raven, then speaks on without breaking stride: "Well, I guess you could use the same magic on the bird now it's swallowed your eye. You'd just need a bigger chain to keep it in place."
Nadya agrees with Krystae. "I will take you there directly." She leads the party on a less-used path that arcs around the nearby village of Waldsby, passing it on the north east side, under a set of icy cliffs. Though you only see it from a distance, the village has an uncanny resemblance to Heldren, the village in Taldor you came from, right down to the location of each of the buildings.
Though you are careful to avoid being noticed, you do get close enough to the town to see a bit of smoke coming from one of the homes. Nadya realizes after you point it out that it is her home on fire, with a dozen soldiers standing guard around it as it burns. An icy resolve takes over her, but she says little and continues to lead you to the pale tower. After four more hours, you come over an icy ridge and get a better view.
Sharp winds whistle across this stark white plain, stinging the eyes along with the near-blinding rays of the reflected sun. A great eruption of frozen ice rises in the distance—an imposing pale tower crowned with icicles spearing into the sky. Seemingly born of the land itself, an unbroken circular wall of ice guards the tower’s base, with no means of entrance visible. High above, a large gash opens in the tower’s bowl-like crown, ringed in icy spikes and split by a massive plane of ice resembling an inverted crescent moon.
Ragnar seemed confused the men standing guard over the burning home. "Why they not put out fire? They only watch."
"I assume they set the fire. Nadya... do you know if your family was away?" Elen asks, putting a compassionate hand on Nadya's shoulder.
"Detour?" Droviz suggests, one hand on his greatsword as he looks at the troops burning down Nadya's home.
Nadya seems uninterested in saving her home. "It's too late for that. It might not be too late for my daughter. Let's hurry to the tower."
"I agree, buildings can be restored or rebuilt, lives lost, not so much."
Ragnar seemed perturbed, but followed the group.
As they approach the tower, Havelock makes a quick inventory check.
Two untapped phial left, four bombs and the mutagen. I think that there will be more fighting, so the mutagen will be a great boon.
I am tired of hiding in the back...
Droviz casts an appraising look at the tower as the group approaches...
Elen walks lightly over the snow in her snowshoes, wearing a warm cloak in order to not give away to any watchers the fact that the frigid wind feels like a gentle spring breeze to her frost-infused flesh. "Any idea what we're facing here, Nadya?"
Havelock chuckles grimly at Elens question.
"Something...UNPLEASANT no doubt."
"Meat for the chopping-block," Droviz says, grimly, as he readies his greatsword and shield. "An endless winter is not worth living."
|
Krystae stares at Waldsby in confusion as she seems to recognize her home. "I... Don't understand. How is this possible?" When they notice Nayda's burning home, the young inquisitor moves to intercede, yet stops as the woman indicates she is more concerned with saving her daughter. An understandable notion; Krystae would let her own home burn if it meant saving her father. At that thought her fingers brush absently across the raven feathers on her necklace.
Sharp winds whistle across this stark white plain, stinging the eyes along with the near-blinding rays of the reflected sun. A great eruption of frozen ice rises in the distance—an imposing pale tower crowned with icicles spearing into the sky. Seemingly born of the land itself, an unbroken circular wall of ice guards the tower’s base, with no means of entrance visible. High above, a large gash opens in the tower’s bowl-like crown, ringed in icy spikes and split by a massive plane of ice resembling an inverted crescent moon.
The entire tower gives off a strong evocation aura.
As you approach closer, Nadya implores you to save her daughter, and says she will wait out here and guard the sleds so you can make a quick getaway.
As you move closer, A trampled path of snow, heavily tracked by footprints and sled trails, ends abruptly at an opaque wall of ice. Carvings and ancient glyphs depict only the semblance of a gateway on its surface.
The outer wall is 25 feet high. There are three guards on top of the gate; they do not yet seem to be aware of you. You are 100 feet away right now.
"Whole thing stinks of magic," Droviz whispers. "What's our plan?"
"We may not have much of a choice but to take the direct route here, time is of the essence."