Munching on a trail ration as Pip headed for the gate, hoping someone would take his advice and actually search the saddle bags and put his tent in one of them so he would not have too, Pip felt the icy chill of the wind and shuddered. Even with his winter clothes this would be rough.
Downing his daily Endure Elements extract, it warmed him up some. This will be a long trip. He sighed.
---
"I'm fine pushing on." Pip looked at Kal'tos."But when we stop, I say we make camp in the woods to get out of this frigid wind." Pip shuddered as he pushed onward. "Oh and I can see in the dark as well. Not that it matters with this snow blasting everywhere."
"I completely agree on staying in the woods, we might even be able to make some kind of wind break out of deadfall."
At Adrian's request, Grunyar digs into his sack and produces the bread and cheese, as well as a portion of meat for the tiger.
As the party prepares to leave the stable and head out of town, Grunyar praises Jaiyo for locating the riding crop in the stall Paxton showed them. Stooping to put a hand on the wolf's head, he looks Jaiyo in the eyes and whispers something quietly. At once, the wolf's ears perk and his eyes brighten and he follows his master into the cold.
"Well, there's no telling whether the halfling'd been holding this crop or not, but it'll likely be more helpful than that perfumed pocketwatch for tracking the scent."
Careful to hold the newly-found riding crop by the end opposite the handle, Grunyar will wait until the group has advanced at least a few hundred feet from the gates before attempting to have Jaiyo track the scent on the crop's handle.
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Adrian sets himself against the wind with a will, his height working to his disadvantage compared to the ratfolk and the Tos brothers. More of him to catch the wind. Lissa seemed at home in the White, her thick orange fur and natural warmth shielding her from the worst of it. As well it should; she and her kind belong, if not specifically here, in this general part of the world. Adrian's lovely cold weather gear, lined with the furs of several snow hares and foxes, is proving itself worth the trouble of assembling once again.
"I agree. If we get into the woods to camp I can see what we can find from the land. Nature provides, even in winter, if one looks but hard enough. I hope you all like rabbit. Don't worry about water, either. I might not be one of those fancy druidic types, and I don't have the power of a deity backing me, but my da taught me a couple handy tricks, conjuring water being one of them. Flares, discerning north even in a blizzard, being able to see magic, cleaning food and water, starting fires. That kind of thing. A couple prayers to the Spirits that do something or other, not that any of them are much help in this mess."
Checking Daisy's saddle bags before placing some of his gear on the mule's back, Grunyar raises an eyebrow at the items left behind. With the others already moving out, he decides to wait until the group is further on its way to mention the strange contents.
Ragnar slings himself up into Hrimfaxi's saddle, bundling his thick winter cloak tight around himself and raising the hood and mask to protect his face from the biting cold. "Where n' when we stop makes no difference teh me. Best teh be making tracks before all hope of findin' th' half-man's trail is buried in snow."
With those few words, he turns Hrimfaxi's nose towards the trail, the sturdy northern beast plodding along through the driving snow.
Ragnar:
Hrimfaxi:
The riding crop in Grunyar's hand looks to be a common sort, unadorned with any fanciful patterning in the leather that many southern styles had. It is a simple tool for 'encouraging' a horse to keep up the pace.
Once shown to Jaiyo, the wolf sniffs and pauses for a few moments before loping forward towards whomever currently holds the pocketwatch, nosing at it a few times before then moving to Daisy, sniffing at her as well. He returns to Grunyar with the look on his face he always had when completing a task. Those big, cerulean eyes practically saying: 'I followed the scent, owner, may I have a reward?'.
--
The first few hours of the trek are slow going and, for most of the party, fairly miserable. Noses are numbed if not covered and the bodies underneath the layers and layers of furs and leathers become slick with sweat.
There is a silence to the White when passing Lake Tarsus, the high winds that whipped and wailed while in the town of Lores are eerily quiet in these flatlands. Only the occasional outcropping of rock or abandoned cabin offer anything for the wind to screech against, and the frozen surface of the lake seems to span out infinitely like a giant pane of glass.
Another hour passes, or perhaps two? There is no sun in the sky to tell time, nor are there any shadows cast from it's light. Only the gray, frigid nothingness that surrounds the party.
--
It is mere minutes before full darkness before the party makes it to the very edge of the bitterwoods with the first trees forming to both the right and left of the group, as they were walking into some sort of gaping maw.
Suddenly and without warning, a gust of wind pounds at the snowbound adventurers with enough might to topple one of the great old oaks within the heart of the Bitterwoods. It is not unlike being tackled, a sheer wall of force that careens forth!
-Ragnar, you're able to keep yourself mounted for the first few moments of the windblast, but Hrimfaxi, taken by surprise from the sudden shock of force reers back and sends you hurdling into the snow! Take:
Your quiver of bolts comes free, 10 of your shots scattering off into the darkness, carried by the wind scores of feet in every direction.
-Adrien, something in your bones tells you that the wind is coming, and you quickly brace yourself against the onslaught. Beside you, Lissa doesn't seem to brace at all, calmly padding forward as if it were a gentle breeze.
-Grunyar, your stocky frame saves you from a tumble, but Jaiyo is suddenly whipped up by the wind and is sent reeling, taking:
-Pip, it is not a good day to be small and lightweight. You are hurdled off your paws and are sent a good twenty feet back, thumping hard into the snow. You take:
You rise and collect yourself...but notice yourself lighter. Your Alchemist Kit has been claimed by the White. You may not make any more extracts unless using someone else's kit.
-Gimpy, like your distant relative, you are easily swept up by the wind and sail through the air, nearly careening into Pip on your way down. Take:
You rise and find the vials of catalyst for making more bombs have flown out of your pack or have shattered from the fall. You may not make any more bombs until you find herbs to craft into more catalyst.
-Kal, unlike your brother, you took a shallow step when the wind came calling and have flown off your feet, falling on your side with a cruel thunk. Take:
Your trail rations are gone, scattered into the White.
-Daisy, as stubborn as she is, is not faltered by the wind.
--
You all stand at the mouth of the Bitterwoods, wind screeching and trees bursting from the snow and accumulating ice on their branches. It is colder than in the day and the snowfall has not relented.
Grunyar reaches down to help Kal to his feet and whistles for Jaiyo, scanning the whiteout for his companion and growing concerned as the wolf limps slightly on his return.
"Everybody in one piece, more or less?" he shouts over the wind. "We ought to get out of the open so we're not fighting the full force of the wind."
Treasonous halfling couldn't have killed the boy in springtime, now could he?
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Gimpy dashes after his catalyst for a few moments before cursing loudly.
By the Nine hells and everything between! Why do the gods hate alchemy?[b] gimpy grumbles and turns to the group. [b]By the gods wrinkly @#$, I need to resupply my alchemy kit.
Gimpy calms after a moment. I'm sorry, is anyone hurt badly? I can bandage wounds and help with bones?
Gimpy shuffles through his pack, or what remains of it, not caring about his own wounds.
"My wounds are minor, but we lost almost a months worth of food."
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I suggest we find a cave or some shelter, I need to bunker down and prepare more bombs, otherwise I'm almost useless in a fight
Gimpy goes to help pip up and he pulls out his mutagen.
Im using this to see if I can find what I need quickly
Gimpy downs the liquid and his arms grow thicker, his forehead broadens, and his tail grows fur
Gimpy searches using scent to salvage what he can
Damn this outrageous wind! Pip thought as he flew backwards, crashing painfully into a snow pile. Standing up, he felt much lighter. Being the heaviest item by far, other than the armor he wore, he already knew what was missing. Damn you storm Pip muttered taking a big sniff of the air trying to detect the scent of his Kit. Filled with the items needed for extracts, it should have a unique scent. If he was lucky, maybe it was stuck against a snow pile nearby and reclaimable.
"I'm alive! Pip shouts. "Let's head to the trees.
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Adrian notices the party start to tumble against the wind and nods to Lissa, raising his hand and creating a ball of flame in it with an incantation. Fueled by magic alone, the White can whip the flames about with impunity, but not extinguish them. The light will provide a central point for the party to converge. Walking over to Kal and helping him out of the snow with the hand that isn't holding a ball of eldritch fire.
"Lissa, see if you can find something that smells like him, please." She didn't quite understand language yet, but they'd practiced tracking quite a bit and Adrian could ask her to do that one almost any way; most of their commands were sent mainly over their link rather than spoken, anyway. She would take a sniff of the dwarf and then cast about, trying to smell something similar nearby.
Grunyar likewise sets Jaiyo to work trying to pick up the scent of Kal's lost rations
"If we don't find any of our gear quickly, I say we move along without it. Backtracking too far will only hurt us more."
The wind whipping and howling against the trees to the right and left of the party make it difficult to keep conversation, as if individual gusts of shivering air were snatching the words away as soon as they passed their owner's lips.
Scent is also hampered with such high wind, causing the invisible motes that both ratling and animal alike tracked with their noses to be fleeting and evasive, as unpredictable as the blizzard itself.
It was almost impossible to follow any scent reliably.
Jaiyo sniffs at Kal's pack and immediately begins to move to the edge of Adrians light before stopping cold in his tracks, the wolf seeming unlike a statue.
Lissa joins him towards the front of the circle of light, and while she takes a further step than the dog, she too treads no further than the circle of light.
They both begin to whimper, retreating slowly back towards their masters.
Both Daisy and Hrimfaxi seem uncomfortable, scuffing the snow with their hooves. Daisy lets out a squeal, like a steer being branded.
A howl erupts in the distance, or is it just the wind?
--
--
Gimpy, you wander a bit further from the cone of light, aided by your dark vision. And just as you catch the faint whiff of your catalyst bottles, you see something at the corner of your vision. A tree, perhaps? But you didn't pass a tree on the northroad until reaching the Bitterwoods.
Something tall and shrouded by both the snow and the high winds stands just at the edge of your vision.
You feel a distinct sense of dread in your gut, a primordial twisting of your innards that is hard coded into your kind. You have the instincts of a prey animal, and your instincts are telling you to flee.
It's staring at you.
Grunyar grumbles as he strains to see what Gimpy's shouting about, though his grumbles are likely drowned out by the wind.
This wind's going to make using my bow a bit more interesting, if it comes to that.
"A bolt. A lousy bolt" muttered Pip as he picked it up. He'd sniff the air again trying to pick up the scent of something other than this snowy wind. Blasted storm is screwing with my nose. Gimpy shouted something and Pip would head over as soon as he could.
--
--
--
The frigid winds do not relent after dark, it is horrendously cold. If the party does not find shelter or fire soon, not even their furs will keep hypothermia and frostbite at bay.
Kal'Tos will attempt to determine what direction is best to head for shelter.
Survival Check
Pip would head toward the trees, hopefully finding someone on his way as he shouted We should regroup at the trees., so he could take cover from the storm. Hi nose couldn't find any of his gear. He'd lost most of his supplies. As long as he had his tent form Daisy, things wouldn't be completely miserable. Muttering curses at the weather, Pip hurried along hoping his party would be nearby.
Seeing Gimpy change course and return toward the rest of the group, Grunyar follows and aids Kal in trying to determine which direction to head in search of shelter.
Ragnar pulls himself up from the snowbank he was tossed into by the horse while spouting a stream a curses colorful enough to make a disreputable sailor blush. He stomps through the snow back to Hrimfaxi before throwing himself back into the saddle, not even bothering to look for the lost gear, merely cinching straps and ties down to ensure things are better secured for the next time. He turns to the others as the wind and snow howl around them, shouting to be heard over the storm, "Damn fool idea the go out in Th' White in a storm like this'n. Like as not we'll trump off'n a cliff in th' blizzard 'n not be found til' spring."
He hauls on the reigns, spinning Hrimfaxi about in the wind as he hears calls of alarm from one of the smaller folk, squinting his eyes into the gloom and not managing to see anything. Not able to see anything in the blinding snow, he cast his eyes elsewhere, looking for any landmarks or signs he can use to find the group somewhere to shelter out of the storm.