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Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight looks up from the treasure trove, shaking the halfling skeleton out of the armor. "Yes, me have healing draught. Use it, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight feel bad that he burned man, but me thinks tazzie-worm was worse. That me only heal drink, until me make more."
Giving up his potion, he goes back to sorting through the treasure, little thought given to the other small person ine team. The medium sized gear he grabbed is dropped. And his smile grows wide when he realizes the armor fits, and the sling is correctly sized. "Me use this good, Boss. Very good treasure. Is longshanks who sings ok? Me not want him die. Me find another healing potion if he need it!"
More and more snow. Almost like Irrisen now... We must be traveling towards the portal. I don't remember there being so much snow when I came through. Which means the portal is pushing the winter on and on. Is the rate steady, or is it accelerating? In a week the winter has almost taken the whole forest. In a month, that would make...
"Oh, a tatzlwyrm.." Kuragin snaps awake from his daydreaming. The creature already beaten, and wounded Jorvik being nursed back to health, Kuragin stands still. Wondering if he should do something to help, he paces around uncomfortably, but assumes his skills are not needed. "Uh, good job, everyone!"
Standing here in the thick snow, the gathered adventurers really begin to feel the cold. For those with northern blood helping them, it is a welcome relief from the heat of battle. For the others, standing still is bringing an unwelcome chill to their bones.
Arising from the snow, ice melt dripping down his face, clothes torn and bloody, the looks around as if awakening from a drunken slumber.
"Sweet Densa, please heal your warrior. There are still many miles left on my journey."
A faint outline of a butterfly appears to encompass Jorvik before fading into mist.
They youth quickly rakes his hands through his hair to make sure his ears are covered.
Hefting his hammer, he declares that he is ready to push off.
"Yes, yes, it's very nice that we found some smaller things for you to use, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight. So often people who aren't man-sized tend to be forgotten. Remember that caravan we rode with a little while back? They forgot to give you your meal three nights in a row. Oh yes, now I remember, they had banished you three nights earlier on some pretense. Cruel people, they were." The wizard shakes his head sadly.
"You ready, young man? Okay, good, let's continue. I feel a chill creeping into these old bones. Oh, I'm sitting in snow? Well, that might account for some of that."
As the companions decide whether to beat a tactical retreat or push onwards, several members of the party have started to shiver as the cold grips them.
While everyone else is simply feeling the cold, two members of the party feel something else. Kuragin continues to flaunt his Taldan clothes that were the height of fashion some decades ago, parading around as though he were at a harvest-day festival. Most hunch over for heat, but he continues to stand upright. Poor Ishbaad, on the other hand, begins to sniffle. Then he sneezes. His extremities begin to seize up and his joints ache terribly.
The young girl begins to shiver as a stinging sensation of cold settles about her and she proceeds to rub her forearms while her teeth begin to chatter.
Looking at Jorvik after Ucle Ishy cast some form of spell and then helped feed him a bit of healing potion, the youth turned to face the others. It seems astounding how quickly he recovered from his wounds once the healing potion began to work. "That potion helped save Jorvik. Do we have any more of those?" Aoife asks still turning the face the others, her gaze finally landing on Coramus. "Should go back to town to buy more?"
Aoife knows she may be more afraid than the others, and seems a little ashamed to admit it to her new friends.
Noting Ishbaad's condition, he shakes his head at Aoife's question. "No, young lady. My companion is capable of producing such a brew, but we had not yet established ourselves here. Let us return and gather more provisions, and possibly a set of warmer clothing for our friend, here. I foresee more of the same, with my wizard sight."
Unless he hears objections, he does an about face and starts heading back towards the edge of the Border Wood and Heldren.
"I happen to carry a scroll with a healing spell written into it. I was saving it for emergencies, but here the emergency might come sooner than later. " Kuragin says. They have met many enemies in a short time, and by either skill or luck they came this far without wounds.
"Best put your hats on, it might be getting a little cold now." Interesting detail about the Jadwiga is that when he speaks or breaths out, there's no mist forming from the escaping air.
Ishbaad begins to shiver much harder now, finally regretting his decision to go without the thicker furs. He looks around at the group and the progress they have made through the snow, then looks deeper into the wood.
"We must bring results back to the town, and all we have so far are the spoils of an ambush that crippled the man who would rather see some of us dead than look at us. If we go back now we look like greedy scavengers. We must press on." he says with chattering teeth.
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The youth looks up to Ishbaad and knows her guardian is willing to push on, even if he is in great pain. Stamping her feet on the ground, hoping to pat the frigid cold from her toes, she tries to dig deep within herself and call upon what little bravery she thinks she has left. The presence of her guardian soothes Aoife and gives her strength and courage she never knew existed.
"You're right," she says, trying to enthused, but moreover, trying to act unafraid. "The Lady is counting on us... we can't let her down."
Despite the biting cold, the brave heroes push on. Unused to helping others, Kuragin continues on with his winter gear in his backpack while Ishbaad sniffs, sneezes and rubs his joints. The trail wends out of the gully towards the High Sentinel Lodge, and back into the thicker forest.
Feathered bundles and strange fetishes hang from the lowest branches of the trees in this part of the forest, swaying and shifting in the wind. All are stuck through with small pins holding pieces of leather bound around them.
The corpse of what the companions assume to be a bandit lies in the middle of a small clearing adjacent to the path. His skin has turned blue and his blood is frozen within his veins. As with the massacre site before, his wounds are fresh and vivid, easy to see. Tiny puncture wounds pepper his face and hands, and blood covers his clothing - serviceable, stained, slightly torn, cold weather clothing. The dead bandits leather armor is still on, but his other gear is nowhere to be seen.
Ishbaad winces when he hears the Goblin start to call him Ishy, but relaxes when he finishes the rest of his name, spoken the way only a goblin can.
" thank you!" Ishbaad says with genuine appreciation in his voice.
" you truly are a most helpful goblin."
Still shivering the giant man puts on the clothing they have found and even though it fits a little snug, he can already feel his body heat beginning to radiate back towards him helping to keep him a bit warmer in the bitter cold weather.
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"For the moment, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight. That is a whole world away, practically. I think it was chance that brought him into our lives, not history."
He peers at the latest find with a studious eye, looking at the wounds and nodding to himself. As they wait for Ishbaad to don the found winter clothing, the wizard hums idly to himself.
With the warmer clothing donned, Ishbaad jumps up and down a few times, swinging his arms to help get the blood moving through his thick veins. He sheathes his spear for now, and draws the cold iron longsword, and hefts one of the wooden shields found in the stash.
"I prefer to fight with a weapon I can really put my weight into, but I'm will not turn down the gifts of Iomedae. Sometimes she sends her messages in mysterious ways..."
Now properly outfitted for the weather, Ishbaad begins another proper search of the area, and the dead bandit's body.
"How did you die, I wonder?" he says, to himself, though loud enough for others to hear.
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"Friends, this northern is unfamiliar with many of your customs. Does any know why these, Feathered bundles and strange fetishes are here? Do any know what they contain? It is obviously the work of intelligent hands."
Jorvik walks up to the nearest fetish and examines it to determine what animal it was made out of, and what it could possible hold.
As they retrieve the clothing, everyone notices that the constant snowfall has become more heavy. It is starting to get stuck around their eyes, and it is hard to see far into the distance.
Everyone stands around trying not to look at Ishbaad's manhood while he gets more properly dressed. As he pulls on the last of the furs, the Oread notices scratch marks also cover the man's face, but none of these would be deep enough to draw a lethal amount of blood. He is still unable to determine what might have caused his death - though blood loss would be a decent guess.
Jorvik has a closer look at some of the fetishes hanging from the trees. They seem to be made from crow carcasses. One particularly gruesome fetish is actually a crow that has been bisected and turned inside-out, its innards still somehow connected to its body.
On a whim, Kuragin surveys the area for magic using his detect magic spell. He detects a trace amount of magic in the trees to the north and is about to share his discovery, when four tiny arrows streak out from the trees.
All four arrows barely scratch the surface of the companions' skin, but they contain unnatural cold within them. The tiny barbs threaten to freeze those struck by them's blood.
Luckily, none who are hit succumb to the effects and manage to warm themselves.
Two blue-skinned sprites can be seen as they try and fail to find an adequate hiding spot in the trees after loosing their volley. Their tiny bodies glow, making their features indistinct, and their gossamer wings glisten in the light reflecting off the snow. They would be considered beautiful were it not for the evil glint in their eyes.
Everyone is sure that a third and fourth sniper are around somewhere to the east and south, but cannot tell where.
Coramus lets out a sharp gasp as he feels the tiny missile, rubbing where it tagged him. He looks mildly at Pym, shaking his head. "I've heard tales of you little sprites trying to shoot a man, making him fall in love with the nearest lady he sees. She can't have even reached adolescence yet, you pervert!"
He summons yet another dart of acid, letting it fly at Pym.
Trudging through the snow, getting closer to Shor, Jorvik swings his hammer.
Acid sprays Pym and he hows in pain, just as a flask of some unknown liquid flies directly for his face. He has enough time to scream, "ອຶ! ໄຟ!" in Sylvan before bursting into flames. Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight has never seen a living thing burn so rapidly under the influence of his bombs before. The sprite's wings burst into flame and disappear in an instant. The little sprit's skin seems to melt from its bones and a small, charred skeleton falls to into the snow below, trailing black
Jorvik attempts to deliver a mighty blow to the sprite in his sights, but cannot quite manage to connect with all the snow crashing down upon his eye lashes.
The still-hidden sprites fly a little higher in the trees and fire off their bows before once again attempting to hide. Shor flies backwards a little, out of range of Jorvik’s hammer before firing. Seeing the wielder of flames that he is, they concentrate their shots on Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight.
While two shot goes terribly wide, the other arrow pierces Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight in the side of his neck. Cold creeps up towards his head, but all he ends up with is a brain-freeze - like when he slurped down a lemonade snow cone too quickly (at least, Coramus said it was lemonade).
The little sprites duck back under cover. One is impossible to see amidst the snow and branches. The other sprite (Vosi), despite doing a poor job of it, is only spotted by Kuragin .
Jorvik strikes a mighty blow with his hammer, catching the winter-touched sprite known as Shor along with the head all the way to the ground. Upon impact with the earth, snow parts to give way to the hard, frozen soil beneath. Shor's blood thaws the patch of ground beneath her with her lifeblood and the marrow from her shattered bones.
Trying to hide from me? The fey thinks it's safe, hiding in the snow, but Kuragin's eyes have long since used to snow. The witch opens mouth, and just Ishbaad earlier, appears to be screaming. No sound is heard by anyone except the sprite.
Vosi grabs at his ears and tries to shake the noise out of his head .
Ishbaad winces as the dart pierces his stony skin and the incessant cold penetrates even deeper, despite the warmer clothing.
He smiles in grim satisfaction as his companions quickly cut down two of the diminutive creatures.
"Fine shot Ice! "
"Melts Quietly in Sunlight!" he finishes a moment later, realizing he should probably finish his full name.
Still unsure where the other assailants are, and struggling to move in the snow, Ishbaad hunkers down, lifting up his newly acquired, if awkward, shield. He scans the trees, twigs, and snow, looking for signs of unnatural movement.
Looking around in a frantic motion, the young girls eyes well as a look a panic clearly spreads across the small portion of her face which is visible beneath the mummy-esc wrappings of the scarf wound around her head. "What do we do?" she questions aloud, half-shouting at the others and spinning to look for a visible foe. "I can't see any of them!" Noticing the direction Kuragin is looking, and realizing there is something unseen behind her at which the mysterious man is looking, Aoife moves away with a few quick strides.
The youth moves surprisingly fast for one her size, but her speed is slowed by the heavy, clinging mounds of snow. As she runs around the edge of the nearby tree, lifting each leg in an exaggerated step to clear the snow drifts blanketing the clearing, she pulls her greatsword free and wraps both gauntlet-clad hands around the hilt. At the end of her motion, Aoife crouches low and keeps her eyes trained on the trees, looking for a target unleash her building fury upon.
How can I help protect the others? she thinks, still panicked. If I can't see what is attacking us?
Coramus, like his young ward, attempts to try to find one of their assailants. Not seeing anyone, he stays by his goblin companion's side.
Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight concentrates on the area where Kuragin is aiming and does indeed spot the fey. He is so poorly hidden that the little goblin wonders why he didn't see him before - or why Coramus still can't see him!
The bomb however, goes well wide of the flying target.
The sprite howls and moans, writing in agony as its wings, arms and legs are sprayed with flaming mist from the bomb. With its skin scorched, its ears bleeding so much so that it can't even think let alone act, the creature lets out a shrill burbling sound. The adventurers suspect that it might be crying.
Squinting through the blowing snow, he moves closer to where his companions are pointing.
"Ah, got you now you little blue nuisance. Care to meet Frostreaver?"
Jorvik spots Vosi. The little sprite, burned by Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, wants nothing more than to run away. Unfortunately, the ringing in its ears won't let it focus. It shakes its head one last time, and glowers at the companions.
Another sprite appears through the falling snow, this one high up in the air - 15 ft above Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight's head. She grins wickedly as her own radiance transforms into a burst of rainbow-like color.
While Coramus is used to such tricks and shuts his eyes in time, Ishbaad and Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight fall over unconscious, blinded and stunned!
Seeing the little blue faerie, Jrovik finally moves into threatening range and strikes out with his hammer.
Ishbaad looks up, finally spotting the sprite. In a split second he realizes it was all a part of the little thing's plan, and he just barely gets his eyes closed in time as the spray of colors envelops him. He blinks his eyes a few times, then looks back up, hoping he is still standing. When he realizes he is, he reaches back to grab a javelin off his back, then flings it up in the air.
for
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I know that spell... Kuragin feels sorry for his companions who fall down in the spray of bright colors. He is relieved by the fact that at least some of them are still able to continue the fight. The sprite is obviously a dangerous opponent, and needs to be kind led fast, lest it releases another such attack. Calling an ancient hex of slumber, Kuragin plans to drop down the flying critter.
Jorvik smashes Vosi in the face. The dazed sprite is taken full force by the mighty hammer, and for a moment disappears from sight. Jorvik looks around for where the tricky sprite has gone before he notices the tiny winged corpse sliding slowly from the lurcerne hammer's central spike.
"Vooooosiiiiii!" Numa cries, flying towards her dead lover. She never even sees the javelin before it crashes into her, tearing a deep gouge in her side. Perhaps mercifully, the recently widowed fey falls directly to sleep and crashes into the ground.
While she is woken by the sharp jolt, she is no match for the adventurers who surround her.
Coramus leaps forward, jumping atop the fallen sprite. "That's enough of your foul sorcery, I think. I haven't made any kaleidoscopes for Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight for precisely that reason!" The wizard holds the much smaller creature still until someone comes to tie it up.
Wiping off the blood from his hammer, Jorvik kisses it and returns it to the sling on his back.
Striding up to Coramus, "Pray tell, what do you think we will glean from questioning this sprite. Do you even speak its language?"
"We have to try!" the youth cries out, racing to reach the others. It is clears Aoife fears the creature will be slaughtered in cold blood.
The youth turns to the pinned creature, breathing heavily for a moment before speaking, as the adrenaline rush of battle subsides. "Can you understand me?" she begins. "We had to defend ourselves... why did you attack us?"
The little sprite looks up at the child, pure unadulterated hatred in her eyes, "Yes, I understand your mewling, you disgusting brute. We attacked you because this is our territory. We took it from the crows. Did you not see our markers in the trees? Probably did. Probably too stupid to understand what they mean. Fools. You may have slain my friends... slain Vosi... but you will all die in the end. You will all suffer."
Her aura glows more brightly as she struggles against the bonds, but she is unable to break free. Eventually she gives up and simply glares at everyone in turn. When Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight eventually rouses himself, she looks at him in a slightly confused way. "Hvers vegna gera þú samlagið sjálfur með þessum mönnum?" Numa asks Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight in Skald, unaware that almost everyone else can speak it also, "Við ættum að vera vinir! Þú ert snjór veru, já? Ég viðurkenna að bláa húð. Drepa þessa menn meðan þeir sofa, frjálsa mig og taka þátt Izoze í dyravörður í nýja aldri ís og snjó að þessum rotinn sumar löndum!"
The youth bites her lip and turns away from the cold, callous words of the creature. For the briefest of moments Aoife has to make a conscious effort not to let her own retaliatory rage loose upon the creature, to grasp and crush it in her powerful grasp, in order to keep it from uttering such hatred to another living soul.
Pulled abruptly from her building anger, Aoife hears the creature speaking a language she cannot understand and the child turns to see the words spoken directly at her new friend, Ice Melts Quickly in Sunlight.
Looking at the blue skinned goblin with brilliant green eyes showing between wrappings of her scarf, she waits for her friend to set her growing concern at ease...
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"Hvers vegna vildi ég drepa menn? Yfirmaður minn kennir mér skemmtilega hluti, eins og hvernig á að brenna illa litla vondu eins og þér. Að auki, vinir þínir brenna svo fallega ... kannski þú vildi brenna bara eins falleg?" Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight starts giggling, as he pulls out yet another bomb, getting ready to show the fey that he meant business.
"Kannski þú sagt okkur hver sendi þig niður hér, og þar sem göfugt konan er? Kannski þá Ice bráðnar Hljóðlega í Sólskin leyfir þér lifandi. Kannski ekki. Við munum sjá."
Perhaps you tell us who sent you down here, and where the noble lady is? Maybe then Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight lets you live. Maybe not. We will see.
As Jorvik asks his question, Coramus grows thoughtful, "Hmmmm...I guess I never really thought beyond a need for information." As the creature speaks common, the wizard's mood brightens considerably.
"How will we suffer, little one? Or is this cantankerous cold weather the suffering. Don't glare at me, it's doing quite a good job of making me suffer already. These old bones haven't felt this kind of cold in quite some time."
Hearing the dialogue continuing in a recognized, yet unknown language, Coramus contents himself with scratching his head and readjusting his clothing after the brief skirmish.
"Goblin who works for humans, disgusting," Numa has clearly given up on negotiating with Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, "Your fire killed my friends... and I have no desire to die in flames also. If you promise to let me go straight after, I will tell you all I know. But you must promise. Swear on your southern gods. I tell all, and you let me go. You promise not to let others kill me, too.
"Please... please don't kill me. I have lost *sob* everything," her eyes well up and she starts to cry, "Izoze be damed! *sniff* I just want to get out of here!!!"
The companions believe she is being truthful about telling them what she knows, but the crying evil sprite is an act.
"And if we do let you go, will you promise to go on your way, and not go telling about us to your boss?" Kuragin has no lust for sprite blood, but is does wonder if letting this one go will make their journey more difficult.