"We should move on while we have the sun. If Winter is comin' the days will grow shorter, an' the longer we wait the worse it ends for our Lady. I've torches an' oil for when sunset comes, but as a hunter I can tell ya that a light in the dark makes a fine target."
"It's a chance we'll have to take, if we want to push on. Maybe we'll be able to find a hollow or embankment that will provide some cover, at least," Machaera says, as she stores the former statue's fine sword among her other gear. She longs to test its balance, but she expects, grimly, that Yuln's sword may be of more use in avenging the man.
Mervyn warms himself close to the Pyre but he doesn't stand there long as the smell is truly something that is not pleasant in any shape, form or fashion. Seeing his comrades speaking of continuing on with the sun fading toward the horizon he offers his own suggestions.
"For one, the bloomin' temperature is already droppin'. Might it not be wise for one of yer strappin' strong folks ter break up one of the bleedin' carriages as ter have some firewood for later. I doubt the wood in the forest will burn wiv the bloomin' snow and all." he says in all earnest.
"And didn't one of yer say sumfink about snow walkin' shoes, eh, mate? Can yer fashion them from planks of that wood as well. We could strap them under foot. If the snow gets too deep me and Fizzlewisk may be in a wee bit of trouble as we are a wee shorter than most." he adds as he thinks to himself
Mervyn shivered both from the increasing cold as well as from the smell of burning flesh. Pulling his clothes tighter around him he eyed the trail leading off to the woods.
"Wen we are ready ter go I'm pretty stelthfy ter scout ahead about an 'undred paces in front of the rest. 'ow about yer Fizzlewisk?"
"Carrying too much wood will slow us down, but I can take some I suppose," Annalísa says before picking through the dryer pieces from the wrecked carriage, kicking it here and there to break a piece off or break a larger piece in two as needed. She stuffs what she can into a bag, and hands some off to whoever else is willing to carry the extra bulk.
She looks around once more to make sure nothing was overlooked, her eyes lingering on the pyre before she starts trudging towards the trail, "Shall we?"
Breaking off and gathering up some additional wood to burn, Aðvinr nods his agreement, shouldering his gear and waiting for the scouts to take the lead.
Fizzlewhisk stretches and takes a new look at the trail, speaking aloud to Mervyn as he does so, "If I can fin' you a path to follow, that could work. Keep to the shadows and watch for snares."
Mervyn readies to follow Fizzlewhisk as soon as he finds us a path, we will scout just far enough ahead to take advantage of our stealth while the others follow within earshot.
Machaera collects an armful of lighter pieces of wood, thin twigs and broken felloes, binding it with the long traces she cuts from the ruined carriages before falling in with the others. If she's not able to hoop some workable snowshoes together once it's time to make camp, at least they'll have that much more kindling.
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Following the trail you cross fully into the woods . The prints remain clear, the bandits made no apparent effort to hide their location. The trail passes through a small clearing before resuming uphill, and out of sight.
Once the PCs pass inside the tree line where the pocket of winter begins, however, the weather proves much worse, with temperatures below freezing and falling snow. The snow reduces visibility by half, imposing a –4 penalty on Perception checks and ranged attacks (Pathfinder RPG Core Rulebook 438).
The temperatures inside the winter pocket are considered cold (approximately 30° F during the day, and 10° F at night). Every hour spent in the wintry conditions requires a Fortitude save (DC 15, +1 per previous check) to avoid taking 1d6 points of nonlethal damage. Those who have taken nonlethal damage from exposure suffer from hypothermia (treat as fatigued), and if this condition is not remedied, they also suffer from frostbite (Core Rulebook 442). If the PCs secure cold-weather outfits before leaving Heldren, they receive a +5 bonus on Fortitude saves against exposure to the weather while adventuring in the forest.
Additionally, within the edges of the Border Wood, 6 inches of snow cover the ground, reducing overland travel rates by half. During combat, entering a snow-covered square costs 2 squares of movement. Snowshoes (Pathfinder RPG Ultimate Equipment 91) can significantly reduce these penalties, but no one in Heldren makes or sells them. However, a PC who succeeds at a DC 15 Craft (shoes) skill check can fashion a serviceable pair
Understanding the perils of the environment, Aðvinr falls into his role as a protector, aiding the others in better protecting themselves by checking and rechecking their gear,guiding his allies through the trek in the biter cold in which he feels quite at home.
Machaera shudders as she feels the first sigh of cold brush her face as the group enters the wood proper. She is bemused by Aðvinr's assiduity in making sure everyone's bundled up properly, pointing out where a sleeve could be laced tighter, and so on, but appreciates it. It's been a while since she's last seen even natural snow, and nothing like this. She brushes off a twinge of homesickness for winter in the Mierani Forest, and concentrates on her current surroundings.
Shivering uncontrollably, Fizzlewhisk points his gloved hand just barely over the snow that surrounds most of his body. "T-t-there's a ch-ch-chest b-b-buried here."
"Hmmm... That strikes me as more than a little convenient. We should check it carefully; I dare say it is probably some sort of fey trap..."
Mervyn places his pipe in his mouth and moves over carefully to check the half buried chest for traps of any kind. The snow was making it difficult.
Common “take 20” skills include Disable Device (when used to open locks), Escape Artist, and Perception (when attempting to find traps).
Mervyn finds, after a few minutes of careful study, that the chest is indeed trapped. A rope buried beneath the snow is triggered to release a spiked log that it is hidden up in the trees. The log would swing loose and slam into anyone or anything in its path.
"Careful, evry geezer back, this bloody fin' 'as a rope to a spiked log up in the tree." Mervyn warns.
He then lights his pipe and sets his tools down beside him. I am going to try and disable it once everyone is clear.
Once they are clear Mervyn lays flat on the ground in front of the chest and will try to disable the rope from coming loose if the chest is moved. Taking a long drag from his pipe and holding it in while he works.
Mervyn is able to keep the rope stable while it's cut and prevents the trap from springing.
Having disabled the trap Mervyn lets out a sigh of relief and exhales the smoke he had been previously holding. He then stepped back away from the chest and joined the rest of the group "It's all yors fellows. It is safe ter open now, unless there is a poisoned asp inside. " he chuckled lightly.
Not seeing any smiles on his companions faces at first he added "Just kiddin' wiv yer"
"In that case, feel free to open it, Mervyn..."
Annalísa makes her way to the chest and nudges it with a foot before leaning in to open it.
When Annalísa opens the chest she sees that it is completely empty.
"See? Typical of the Winter Fey - a trap simply designed to cause misery. Let's continue on our way."
Mervyn walks up to the empty chest and searches it for any hidden compartments just to be sure.
"Yer didn't right fink there would be anyfink of use inside did yer, isit? Usually if some bloke leaves a chest wiv a trap like this, it ain't because they want ter gift yer sumfink." he says with a snicker as he puts his pipe away.
If Mervyn finds nothing hidden then he is ready to move on.
Mervyn doesn't find any hidden compartments, but while moving the chest around to try to find one, he happens to see something sticking out beneath the chest buried deeper in the snow. With a few minutes more of digging around in the cold snow, he is relatively certain that he's uncovered all there is to find.
The cache contains the
majority of the weapons and armor stripped from Lady
Argentea’s guards, including five sets of leather armor,
three sets of studded leather armor, a masterwork chain
shirt, two light wooden shields, seven longswords, two
spears, a masterwork dagger, and three light crossbows
with a total of 25 bolts.
Standing from the digging, Mervyn presents the cache of weapons to Annalisa "and o'course, nuffink sized for an 'alflin'." he says before looking over at Fizzlewhisk "or gnome."
A natural, Machaera thinks, making a mental note to herself not to ever suggest to Mervyn that she has anything to hide. Probably couldn't resist the challenge.
"Not even the dagger?" she asks. "It's a bit long for you folks, but could you ... wield it differently?"
Her warrior's eye assesses the blade. Good work, that. It could probably stand rougher treatment, stabbing like a short sword... She spares a glance at the mail shirt, but considers the load everyone's already carrying. "I doubt it will do this any harm to wait until we get back out, and anyone who's still with Lady Malassene will be glad to get their weapons back."
She keeps her tone optimistic, though thinking of the zombies left behind, privately wonders whether the lady's abductors cared much for keeping anyone else alive.
"Well I don't suggest leavin' them 'ere. Obviously 'ooever left them 'ere were plannin' on comin' back, right? Use the tree over there as a marker and lets move them quickly. It will 'ave a look like we took em and we can cop ffem on the bloody way back." Mervyn says to the others.
Picking up the MW dagger Mervyn swings it around to see if it could be used as a MW shortsword for a halfling.
Looking over the goods, "I c-can always use m-more b-bolts." Fizzlewhisk says between chattering.
"Take anything we can use now, come back for anything we cannot. No pint in facing whatever lies further without the best preparation available." Aðvinr asys studying the cache of weapons and equipment.
Happy with the feel of the new MW Shortsword Mervyn adds it to his belt on the opposite side from his other shortsword.
"I'm gonna borrow this for now, we can work out the details later. I don't fink it is gonna be missed." he says.
As soon as everyone else has had a chance to gather what they want and if the group is gonna move the weapons to a new hidden spot as Mervyn suggested he is ready to continue.
"Come on Fizzlewisk, right, lets continue ter scout ahead for the bloomin' group. Daylight is a weretin'" he adds as he moves further up the trail back to the same position as before with the group behind them out of sight but in ear shot.
Annalísa, noticing all of Fizzlewhisk's teeth chattering takes her friend aside and says, "We can stop and make a fire if you're getting too cold, Fizzlewhisk. Or I could even carry you on my back with some of my furs draped around us both for awhile if that would help. No one will say anything about it, at least not twice."
"W-we sh-should go a b-bit further. They'll th-think that this trap slowed us d-down." He manages a smile as he resumes scouting with Mervyn, having only taken the bolts from the cache.
"Alright, everyone gather what you can carry. Let's get moving."
As the group moves on, the two smaller members creep on ahead to scout out the way. Following along the trail, and the still blatant footprints, they find that it is getting increasingly difficult to move through the snow as they enter into a heavy snowdrift. The windswept gully carves a path through the tree-covered ridge. A soft cascade of snow falls from an overhead branch, hissing softly as it strikes the ground.
The group continues along, slowly trudging through the snow. The scouts remain in the forefront, their eyes peeled for any signs of danger but all they can really see is snow and more snow. Everyone else, follows along within sight or at least earshot of Mervyn and Fizzlewhisk. The silence of the evening is suddenly broken by Hundur's loud and persistent bark. Try as she might, Annalísa is unable to get the dog to be quiet as he growls and barks at something unseen in the distance.
Mervyn pulled his cloak tight around him and shivered, the snow here was deep and was causing the little halfling to be virtually buried up to his waist at times.
"Copping right 'ard ter see wiv all this snow comin' dahn. It is like we are caught in a blizzard or sumfink. Not that I 'ave ever seen one but I would imagine from the stories that this would be it." he chatters to Fizzlewhisk.
"How yer 'oldin' up, eh, luv? Yer need ter put the mockers on and warm up?" he ask of the little gnome with him.
Hearing the dog begin to bark uncontrollably Mervyn took to the ground motioning for Fizzlwhisk to do the same. Putting his finger to his lips as if to keep the gnome from answering his previous question.
Mervyn took his shortbow off his back and notched an arrow. He looked around and tried to find what the dog was barking at but couldn't see anything. He waited for the others to move up.
"Trust me little one, this is no blizzard. Wen all your vision is white, and you breathe more snow than air, then you will know what a blizzard feels like." the shaman says, his voice a quiet rumble in the eerie silence of the snowfall.
Machaera
Fizzlewhisk
Aðvinr
Mervyn
Snjórinn
Annalísa
Artic Tatzlwyrm
R1
Machaera, Unknown Enemy, Fizzlewhisk, Annalísa, Aðvinr, Mervyn, Snjórinn