"Reddish-brown stained snow and rocks? Yeah, it was a fight. Should give it a look and see if we can figure anything out from what's visible, but the first question is whether the trail goes towards the portal or not. If it does, then following it is basically a must. If not, then it is a much bigger question." Grim pushes to the trail, following it to the "mess" and begins looking around for any details he can pick up.
Grimgisli approaches the scene that Brominate described and is quickly able to piece together an idea of what happened. there are several pairs of older footprints that seem to have been coming and going from the lodge. the more recent prints are a mix of a large animal (after some examination you determine they are from an exceptionally large rodent, likely a mink or weasel.
there was apparently a tussle between a humanoid adult and the creature, which left bloody marks in both sets of prints. the rodent tracks lead off to the right of the trail into the woods, while the humanoid tracks lead to the left. not far from the path you can make out the shape of a body just past the patch of red mud that Brominate found. it seems obvious that this body was the one that was in the fight.
"Body over there that you missed." Pointing in that direction. "Looks like that person lost a fight with a giant weasel or mink. Unlikely to be trapped, as there's no signs of other humanoids. Animal went that way.[/]" Pointing to the right. "[b]If I remember, from here, the portal should be THAT way." Pointing in the direction of the portal on the map. "I would watch for the animal to show up again, but I don't think we need to leave our path to chase it."
"Someone in town said something about seeing a giant weasel... I guess he found it again..."
Grim takes the time to go over the body, looking for anything useful, or identifying.
Grim finds a damaged but mostly intact pack next to the body. inside the pack there is a journal, 3 days of trail rations, a pair of homemade snowshoes, and a flask of strong applejack.
the man was carrying a bow, but it has been snapped in two. he has a dozen arrows, 2 of which are magical.
As Grimgisli is investigating the body, Brominate hears the crunch of footfalls in snow coming from the path behind the party. he looks back and spots a very large human male walking towards them. He is tryign to be quiet, but it is difficult for such a large man. He is easily over 7 feet tall, and built on the bulky side. he has long braided blonde hair with the sides of his head shaved. he is dressed for the cold, and wearing a massive 2-handed axe
His initial words are quiet enough for Grim and the rest of the party to hear.
"Apparently weasels ain't the only unnaturally large creatures around these parts. Newcomer on our six."
Brom bends down and forms a snowball, then abruptly turns and hurls it at the approaching stranger, which hits him square in the face.
"I reckon you'd better identify yourself and purpose for following us or the next snowball'll be stabbin' you in the face! 'Cept it won't be round...or made of sno- I'm gonna throw a dagger is basically what I'm saying. Now, who are you?!!"
With the party's attention focused on the stranger, Brominate nudges Zeke and adds, "You think he can hear us from way up there? Hey! Can you hear us from way up there?"
He stands ready to throw his daggers if need be.
Hjorleaf stops and looking down at the half elf, a large hand reaches up and wipes the snow from his face. A distinct look of anger as he lets his gaze settle in on the attacker. Seeing the dagger in his hand, he laughs at the tiny piece of metal. His laughter continues on and is directed at the one that owned it.
Ohhh þú vilja til play Kubb!
Ohhh you want to play Kubb!
In one quick motion he pulls forth a throwing ax and tosses it toward his attacker. The half elf pulls back to throw his dagger that he had prepared but stays his hand. He notices that the ax is not coming anywhere near him. It is aimed high. As the half elf looks up to see where the ax went, he sees that it hits the tree above where he is standing. The next thing he sees is a pile of snow falling down on him from the tree branches above. Wiping the snow from his face, he hears the crunch of snow as the long strides of the man he just attacked ate up the distance between them. A large hand reaches out and grabs his shirt pulling him forward and upwards.
Brominate, þú skulu eiga used at dagger...þat munu eiga shown ek þú hafði balls til follow upp á þinn threat....instead þú eru réttr...hræddur ok pathetic. Gerði snow gera þinn pants fór...þau said þú munu react líta þessi.
Brominate, you should have used that dagger...it would have shown me you had the balls to follow up on your threat....instead you are just...scared and pathetic. Did the snow make your pants wet...they said you would react like this.
Slowly he lowers Brominate to the ground...and walks over to retrieve his weapon. Turning his back on the Brominate and placing the weapon back in it's sheaf, he looks around at the group until he finds the one he needed to talk to..
Grimgisli, Heil og sæl. Ek vætta hans...He nods towards Brominate...bita ir betri þan hans bark...einn nursing kobold baby hafa meiri teeth þan at einn. Madam teppen said at þú munu þorfua help ok ek em hí til lend þat. Ef þú skulu vilja þat at ir. Hjorleaf asvidrson em ek. Hvat segða þú.
Grimgisli, greetings. I hope his..He nods towards Brominate....bite is better than his bark...a nursing kobold baby has more teeth than that one. Madam Teppen said that you might be needing help and I am here to lend it. If you should want it that is. Hjorleaf son of Asvidr am I. What say you?
As the big man comes up and the snow fight unfoilds, Grim chuckles quietly and finishes retrieving the bits that are still useful from the corpse.
In Taldane "Gotta work with the Southerners, easier to speak their language, if you know it?"
The rest will be in Taldane if there's an indication he understands, Skald if not. "Can use all the help we can get. Tiny little fey. Pair could dance on that axe," pointing at the one he just threw, "without struggling for space. But they are mean, using magics and poisons both. Seem to be coming through some kind of portal up ahead. We're heading that way to see what we can do about it. At least one of these seems to be looking forward to going through it, as if he's ready for the kind of cold on the other side."
Looking to the thinner and weaker Southerners. "One of you want to wear these snowshoes? They'll slow you down a bit, but once you get the hang of them, walking across this become much easier. Brominate? You want to check out the journal? Anybody want to carry the spare rations?" He pockets the flask and arrows, keeping the magic ones separate.
Brominate responds saying he'll check out the journal.
He eyes the newcomer with contempt and adds, in Skald, "Þú munt finna bitinn minn nógu vel ..." It's clear, though, he feels humbled, or rather, humiliated.
Besides not asking for a translation, Easlis gave no indication of knowing the language the newcomer was speaking to his companions.
He relaxed and lowered his scimitar when the man sheathed his weapon but continued to eye him with suspicion.
"Brominate, Grimgsli, I haven't known you had such lovely friends. I can understand why the councilwoman would want to send you as far away from the village as possible, but has she explained what you're getting into? As master Grimgisli just said it's not an easy task and it's likely most of us will not even get to see our way back. There's no shame in going back."
He picks up the snowshoes from the ranger giving him a sharp look for the previous comments.
"But if you still want to continue with us on this crazy path, we welcome your help.
Easlis extends his arm "Southerner Easlis. Nice to meet you. Oh, and you also get to carry the extra rations.
After trying on the snowshoes and falling comically in the deep snow twice the half-elf relented and handed them to Brominate.
Aye, I can speak the tongue of the southerners...
He listens to the description of what his is getting into...
Fey...never encounter them before...hear the tales of course...but never actually seen one.
He looks at the others in the group. His eyes roam over their equipment.
He turns back to Grimgisli.
Gera þau eiga meiri equipment fyrir kaldr? þau eru likely til eiga things turn svartr ok fall eigi á. Important things.
Hearing his language spoken by Brominate brings a surprised look to his face.
Hann speaks...
He squares his shoulders.
I accept your challenge...but it will have to wait till another day. We have more important things right now. Soon, do not worry.
Walking towards the man again. He reaches down and brushes snow off of him.
If you wish to see that challenge...Keep yourself dry. Wool keeps the warmth in but also the dampness from snow.
Þat ir góð til sjá þú pull þinn balls út ór þinn aptr pack
His voice shows a hint of respect.
Then he laughs and pulls forth a wine skin. Handing it to Brominate.
Drinks some...it will help to warm you up. Careful..little sips. It is strong, trust me. It may not taste like it but it is.
Hearing the Elf speak up brings the large man around.
Menander was the one...went to Madame Teppen. It is not my fault he can not keep his tavern stocked...he should not own a tavern. You would think he would have more to drink. I swear you southerners do not know how to drink.
When the elf asks if he knew what he was getting into...
Death comes for us all at some point...Enjoy life as long as you can before you go to meet your gods. If I am to die...then so be it.
When the elf introduces himself...he frowns slightly and looks at Grimgisli.
nei father? hann ir without einn lineage...hvernig odd þessi southerners.
Well met..
Looking down at the extended hand. Hjorleaf reaches out and grasps the forearm below the elbow. Pulls him in close to his chest and gives him a sturdy thump across his back. He says just low enough that everyone can hear it but understanding that it is meant for Easlis.
I will carry these rations but do not expect me to be your packmule...
He pulls away with a large smile on his face.
In response to Asvidrson's first question, Grimgisli provides "Þeir hafa það sem þeir hafa. Takmarkaður framboð af góðum vetrarfatnaði þetta langt suður. Við verðum að finna og gera betur þegar við förum, óttumst ég."
As for the bit about the elf's name . . .. "Þeir telja sig mikilvægara en sögu þeirra eða ættkvísl. Það fer dýpra en ekki að skilgreina föður sinn eða verk föður síns."
As the typical Ulfen man, whose presence reinforces how much smaller Grimgisli is than the norm, takes the rations and puts them away, Grim looks to the group. "Well, then, are we done dancing? Can we get back to finding this portal?" almost to himself he adds "Shame we can't take the time to collect the giant weasel. Could be an interesting kill."
The wine is indeed strong, but not altogether unfamiliar. Brominate's face betrays nothing as he takes a few swigs before handing the skin back to Hjorleaf.
"I thank you for the kindness offered."
Turning to Grimgisli, the half-elf adds, "Grim, if we come back alive from this portal-thingy, we can hunt as many giant weasels as you want. But until then, 'Henceforth, and conquer!' ...Whoever has the map, tell us with way forth we should hence... or which hence we should forth? Either one."
Keeping his winter blanket wrapped around him to keep the chill out, and as the small sips of wine warm his bones, Brom accepts the snow-shoes from Easlis. Before wearing them though, he approaches Bazkikian.
"Hey Zeke, would these be too big for you? You can have them if you need them. If you don' well...actually, wait -"
He straps the snowshoes to his feet briefly to see what kind of tracks he leaves behind. If the snowshoes allow him to scout ahead with a lower likelihood of being detected, and if Bazikian does want them, he'll wear them. If they make his tracks super obvious, and Zeke doesn't want them, he'll put them on the cart for anyone to use. But if our Gnome friend wants them, he can have them.
after introductions are made, Brominate pages through the journal. there is a bit of info tracking the movements of a giant white weasel, with comments in the margins about proving that he wasn't crazy to the townsfolk who didn't believe him.
It lists 2 spots with some detail where a set of bear traps were placed to try to capture the beast.
it also talks about a strange small hut in the woods sitting on top of several tree trunks and with a porcelain doll sitting on a chair on the front porch.
_____________________________________________________
Brominate tries on the snowshoes and finds that they do obscure his footprints somewhat, but still leave a trail. the trail just doesn't look like boot prints.
Brominate will continue to where them for the time being, but taking smaller steps, in an attempt to make his tracks seems like an extremely large, 4-hoofed forest dweller.
Then, he compares the descriptions of the hut to the map to see how far out of the way this hut would be.
"I remember drinking with the fellow who wrote these words. In the tavern a couple nights ago.. seems like much longer than that, though. He describes seeing an odd hut somewhere out here... do you think maybe we might find some warm clothes for the rest of the party?" He looks up and realizes he was just talking out loud, but not really to anyone.
"Also, something about a porcelain doll on the front porch."
the hut described in the journal sounds like it is located on the main trail you are following into the woods. it would be much easier to find it than it would be to avoid it. from where you are it is less than a mile.
Brominate doesn't recall anyone in town who was known as a doll collector. though he hasn't been here long, Brominate has not yet heard of or met a citizen of Heldren who lives this far out in the Border Wood.
Upon hearing about his father Easlis drops the act and responds in Skald:
"Ég þykir vænt um minna föður míns ekki í gegnum nafnið sem ég ber en með verkum sem myndi gera hann stolt, það er leiðin okkar. Ég gæti verið útlendingur í þessum löndum núna en það var ekki alltaf raunin."[b]
Easlis moves next to Brom and looks over his shoulders at the maps in an indication that he would rather not speak more about his past.
[b]"A porcelain doll you say? That's certainly quaint. Nevertheless, it wouldn't hurt to find a warm place to serve as a temporary base. Shall we get moving?"
Grimgisli, to this portal it is then...
The large man grips his weapon and follows along to the portal.
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Bazikian watches the interactions of the newcomer with open interests, squinting in confusion when anyone speaks in Skald. As the party gets moving again, he scoots up next to Hjorleaf, shakes the immense warrior's hand with his tiny one, and introduces himself, his sentences characteristically running together.
"Hi there, my name's Bazikian, nice to meet you! I heard you say you'd never met any fey, well you have now, because little do most folks know, gnomes are fey in Golarion, which is the main point of difference between us and gnomes from Wizards of the Coast settings, where they're really just weird halflings... but enough about me! Where are you from, the north like Grim? Seems pretty cold up there, is that why you've come here, because it's really cold here now, it isn't usually, but I guess that's what we're all about now. I hope you don't find this too personal but I thought I'd ask, just trying to get a read on people now after certain unfortunate events, but do you like to murder helpless captives? And do you find that you have certain tendencies towards pre-judging people of different races or species, particularly based on their appearance? For example, assuming that members of a particular species are evil or must be destroyed simply by virtue of what form they were born into? Now, there's no wrong answers here, because let's face it, we're a bunch of misfit adventurers working together to get things done that no one else has the skills, or the will, to get done, so hey, just gotta find a way to make it work, am I right, but it'd be nice to know where you stand on this stuff before we reach a critical juncture and then all of a sudden you're taking a stand for cold-blooded murder when I didn't really see it coming from such a nice person, know what I mean? So, do you, for both questions? Or even just either? But preferably both." He looks up at Hjorleaf much like a puppy does when walking beside a large dog, eyes shining with the excitement of someone new, legs pumping to keep pace, tongue hanging out a little from both his exertions and his breathless tirade.
As Easlis and Bazikian chat with the new member of the group, Grimgisli ranges ahead a bit, moving in the trees and keeping quiet.
you spot a few unique things in the white landscape of ice and snow. first you come across the area where Dryden set his bear traps. because of the journal you know where they are located and there is no risk of getting injured in one.
next, you spot a small clearing between a cluster of pines that is completely clear of snow. there is a bed of pine needles on the ground with no snow in a 10-foot circle.
finally up ahead you spot the slanted roof of a small hut in a clearing up ahead.
up to you which of these things you want to share with the group or stop for.
Falling back to the others . . ..
"I found the bear traps. Easy enough to avoid them, but with the hunter not checking them, they pose a threat to the local system. As if the weather doesn't, though. We should probably take the time to trip them using some big fallen branches. Simple and mundane. I also spotted what should be the hut in a clearing up ahead. But . . .." He looks away from everyone and down at the ground for a minute before picking his head back up and continuing. "There's a clear, dry bed of pine needles in a cluster of pines. Looks like a really good spot to secure as a shelter if we need one. Problem is, I'm not sure the dry spot is a natural feature against this weather. I'm a little concerned about that one."
"Hi there, my name's Bazikian, nice to meet you! I heard you say you'd never met any fey, well you have now, because little do most folks know, gnomes are fey in Golarion, which is the main point of difference between us and gnomes from Wizards of the Coast settings, where they're really just weird halflings... but enough about me! Where are you from, the north like Grim? Seems pretty cold up there, is that why you've come here, because it's really cold here now, it isn't usually, but I guess that's what we're all about now. I hope you don't find this too personal but I thought I'd ask, just trying to get a read on people now after certain unfortunate events, but do you like to murder helpless captives? And do you find that you have certain tendencies towards pre-judging people of different races or species, particularly based on their appearance? For example, assuming that members of a particular species are evil or must be destroyed simply by virtue of what form they were born into? Now, there's no wrong answers here, because let's face it, we're a bunch of misfit adventurers working together to get things done that no one else has the skills, or the will, to get done, so hey, just gotta find a way to make it work, am I right, but it'd be nice to know where you stand on this stuff before we reach a critical juncture and then all of a sudden you're taking a stand for cold-blooded murder when I didn't really see it coming from such a nice person, know what I mean? So, do you, for both questions? Or even just either? But preferably both." He looks up at Hjorleaf much like a puppy does when walking beside a large dog, eyes shining with the excitement of someone new, legs pumping to keep pace,...
Hjorleaf looks down at the person that is half his height and tries to listen to the words as they tumble out of his mouth.
Bazikian is Nisse...North...heading home...no...no...Looking over at Grimgisli...
only way to know for sure is to check it out then...Shall we
Easlis felt Bazikian's words hit hard and feeling of remorse creeping in. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. Was he fearing a confrontation on the subject or was it the guilt he was feeling that prevented him to take action? The half-elf chose to focus instead on the problem at hand.
"Beware of anything that might trigger an alarm. Also, if you go to the trouble of finding them in knee deep of snow we should collect them and use them for whenever we want to make camp."
After checking the location indicated by Grim, the magus frowns and casts a spell on the clearing from a distance.
"Indeed. Something seems off about it, it looks too inviting."
The group moves forward to the clearing described by Grimgisli. 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 needle-carpeted soil.
Easlis checks for magic, but comes back negative. his knowledge of spells and arcane items does not have an explanation for who or what might have cleared this area.
something about the trees themselves doesn't look right to you. you realize they might not be trees at all, but a creature known as a frost fir. they are a distant relation to treants that prefer the form of evergreen trees. they are generally very unfriendly to outsiders, especially when defending their territory from threats
"I vote we leave this clearing be for the moment and check out the hut, then head to the portal. What's to be gained by poking around here? More likely what's to be lost is...a finger - or an arm. I just have a bad feeling about all this. I'd rather try to equip the rest of the party with gear and clothing for this cold."
Brominate attempts to keep his wits about him in this area.
hmm...Well it might do some good to have four walls and a roof over our heads for a time at least...
"You know what? I think I remember a legend from home . . .. That clearing. Those trees could be Frost Firs. They are a kind of animate tree from the far North that hate people. We can avoid them easily enough for now, but they will pose a serious threat this far South. We'll need to deal with them before we declare these woods safe again. I knew that dry patch didn't look right . . .."
---
"Getting into the hut and giving everyone a chance to warm up, maybe scrounge some more cold-weather gear, is a good idea, regardless."
The party follows Grim towards the hut he found while scouting ahead. as they approach, they see a large clearing. the center of the clearing rises into a small hilltop. more than a dozen boulder-sized chunks of ice litter the ground between you and the hill. On top fo the hill a strangely small hut sits perched atop four legs, each one a single tree trunk whose gnarled roots resemble the toes of a giant chicken.
the front door of the hut stands open
inside the open door of the hut you spot a small rocking chair, with a small figure sitting in it staring across the clearing to the spot where you are standing
standing beside one of the ice blocks you spot a young girl, maybe 6 or 7 years old with brown hair. she is standing with her back towards you, watching the hut.
"Being around all sort of evil creatures we tend to forget how scary nature can be. Do you think you'll be able to spot similar shrubs before we stumble right into them?" Easlis said uneased by how everything seems to have turned against them.
"I think I can barely discern the porcelain figure the hunter described. This should be his home."
Could all these ice boulders have runes that ward of the effects of the weather from this clearing?
Taking two steps towards the girl, but not crossing the circle of ice he yells to the girl: "Hey there! Could we come in? We have news of your father"
He'd just been about to suggest how they might quietly take control and clear the area when Easlis did the unthinkable and began talking...very loudly! He dove behind one of the ice boulders so as not to be seen. He listens intently to see what happens next.
at the sound of Easlis' voice, the little girl looks up and says:
I'm sorry! Don't hurt me!! I never meant to call you names!
then she turns and runs off into the field of ice blocks
You are able to calm the girl long enough for her to answer a single question before she darts away
Looking right at us? Is it moving? Just a trick of the paint job?
Grim frowns as Easlis tries to start a conversation.
". . . call you names"? She been teasing or taunting the fae?
The hunter leaves any chasing of the girl to the more easily distracted, watching the doll instead, an old fairy tale tickling the back of his memory enough to keep him nervous about it . . ..
The tall man stands there looking at the hut with legs...brought back to his sense by the words of Easlis, her tries to get the running girl to stop.
[b]I would not go running off alone. There some nasty killer trees just down that way.
Watching her continue to run away from him and his words he turns back to the hut with legs.
He looks to Grimgisli and nods towards the open door as he grips his weapon.
"Feels wrong. Let's split, go out to either side, see if the doll moves or not, or if it seems to be watching regardless of where we stand. I think I remember there was an old story, but I just can't . . .." He shakes his head and starts to swing out to the left, keeping the doll in view as the primary limit for how wide he moves.
Hjorleaf nods his approval and moves off to the right side.
Surprised at first by the girl's reaction, the half-elf is taken aback and shows his indignation to the rest of the party:
"This is what happens when the kids have been brought up in isolation without encountering one of the elven folk. Either that or they mistook Bazikian for one of the fey."
He attempts to calm the spirits and stop the northerners from doing anything rash.
"Master Grimgisli, don't tell me you are afraid of a doll.
Hjorleaf, you too? Look, there are only women about. Let's just head in and explain properly our purpose. They might not be happy about the news, but we can at least get some warm brewage out of this."
Easlis takes a couple of steps forward, yelling after the girl:
"Stop! We mean you no harm!"
looking back at Easlis...
You do not get out much do you. Harsh environments calls for you to do whatever it takes in order to live. You will never survive if you let your guard down...until you are certain of the outcome.
and then he laughs...
only women about....you never met a shield maiden before. Look at them wrong and your balls will be tickling your nose soon enough. Do not ever dismiss a women...think of them as frail and weak...they are our equal in everything and will cut you down if you claim otherwise. Everyone knows this...you southerners know nothing about women it appears...
he continues to laugh...
One time..this maiden named Brinda..well we were drinking and I glance every so slightly at Elisa across the hall...I did not wake up till the next day. Broke her horn across my skull just like that.
He laughs a bit more...
the little girl dashes away, ignoring calls for her to stop. you can see her watching you from behind a boulder just a little further into the maze of ice blocks.
Grim and Hjorleaf split up and start moving towards the hut. nothing in the hut moves while they walk. Grim looks back up at the doll after moving a dozen paces or so to the left, but the doll still seems to be looking at the same spot in the pathway into the clearing.
Bazikian starts moving out with Grim, his focus on the girl. "This seems very weird," he whispers loudly. "That girl isn't acting like you would expect a little girl to act, and this is a pretty strange place for a child to be hanging around. At what's with those chicken legs?" he asks incredulously. "I've never seen anything like that before! That must be some kind of magical chicken hut. I wonder if it lays huge eggs that hatch little chick huts. If you could farm those you'd be rich! Who wouldn't want a chicken hut? It would be perfect for people like me that live on the road..." Bazikian continues to waffle on in his loud whisper.
Eggs. If it laid eggs, that would be nice right about now...breakfast
Easlis looks back disapprovingly at his companions. "Shield maiden? You must be joking. Look, she more scared than a rabbit hunted by a pack of hungry goblins."
He then moves slowly through the rocky area as not to frighten the girl even more than she already is, doubting that if there were any wards put in place they would be triggered by his movement.
Brominate stays where he is, hiding behind a large ice boulder, waiting to see what happens next.
Easlis gets closer to the girl and she speaks to him again:
Please dont' keep me here. It's so cold. I miss my mother...
the little girl does not seem to be speaking to you, she seems to not really notice you.
the way she looks past you while speaking and the odd mannerisms to her movements make you think the girl is not really here. this seems to be a script being played out, much like a Programmed Image
you an ask her one question before she runs away again
after speaking the girl turns and runs further into the field of boulders
"Okay, doll's not moving and the gaze isn't following us. Good. Less creepy is better. Hut with chicken legs? It just sounds familiar, like something from childhood . . .. I wish I could remember . . .."
Grim continues moving closer to the hut and its door, watching for movement or other threats.
Hjorleaf follows suit and advances slowly on the hut.
Brominate momentarily lost himself. Seeing Easlis chase the young girl who now seemed terrified...and only missed her mother, ran and tackled Easlis to the ground.
Then, he remembered that this was not his daughter. Much too old. And breathing. And...wait, what was th...her eyes are not meeting either himself or Easlis. I'm not sure she's really there.
It was at this point he returned to reality, having just tackled his comrade. Hopefully Easlis hadn't seen the flash of vengeance in his eyes for that brief second. He also had to give an excuse for tackling him now.
"Sorry, I had to stop you! Look at her. She's not real. I can't explain it rightly mehself , but that girl ain't really here! An' I didn't want you to get hurt or nothin'... ... so I tackled you."
As he gets closer to the girl Easlis notices that the girl is paying no attention to him and as her words become more and more cryptic and scary he starts feeling goose bumps. He opens his mouth to address the girl again but before he could do that he felt two hands grabbing him from behind and pinning him to the ground. Without giving a second though the half-elf went for his sword but stopped short of unsheeting it when he heard the familiar voice.
"Brom?! Are you out of your mind? Why have you done that for?"
Somewhat satisfied by the explanation the magus slowly gets up and starts removing the snow off his garments.
"First man-eating trees and now this? I'm starting to get the suspicion of what types of prey he was hunting. Well, this magical charade ends now!"
Without moving any further Easlis starts casting detection magic left and right hoping to find the magical trap intended for him.