Rose hummed softly as they traveled after the most recent camping they had made. She swayed softly on her saddle as they rode, before she paused her humming.
"Lyra, I don't recall a reason for your distaste of spiders... How come, dear sister?" She did not absolutely adore them either, but had more of an appreciation of the eight-legged creatures. She also found the more intricate and finely-made webs to have a kind of beauty to them, with morning dew causing them to shimmer as if bejeweled.
Moira doesn't like leaving a threat like trolls behind but she has to agree that four of them would take some preparation. That and they are a long way from Oleg's. Later when they find a small valley of fangberries covered in spiderwebs, the suspicious part of her brain wonders if this was a trap or a test by the strange alchemist that came by. Or more likely he didn't want to deal with a lot of spiders either. Moira doesn't want to either but fire was her go to choice. She's more than a little horrified by the rapid staccato popping sound as tiny spiders burst one by one. She stomps on a few that get to close but doesn't go any further. She had to agree with Lyra about spiders.
The bridge, however, is an interesting development. This would be a good place to lead the trolls. Then they could collapse the bridge. The problem would be getting it in working order again just so they could drop it and it would be unlikely to kill them anyways. Oh well. Lots of fire and a choke point is better than open terrain on a hill.
Lyra stopped mid sentence in the conversation she had been having with Mehaila and frowned at river the group was starting to see through the trees ahead. She threw a hand up suddenly to stop the group and slipped from her horse quietly. Walking as quietly as she could she moved up to the tree line and peered out from behind the bole of a large evergreen.
As the druid crept up to the edge of the trees she spotted a large green lizard-like lying motionless on the largest of several islets. Two of the islets were connected by debris that had obviously swept down river and stacked up over the years, creating a mound of rotting vegetation and bodies ten feet tall and at least double that wide. The river had dug out a channel around this obstruction on the other side where the water flowed deep and fast.
The man sized lizard had smooth emerald green scales, a dragon's head filled with sharp teeth and two arms ending in grasping claws. Green vapor trailed from the end of the creatures snout as it breathed steadily in sleep.
The druid stood there silently for several seconds, her eyes scanning up and down the the lizard before looking over at the mound and dismissed it quickly. She turned and walked back to the party, her motions slightly careless as she only attempted to step over the brittlest of branches. "It's a tatzylwyrm. Type of small dragon-"
Suddenly a loud hiss tears through the quiet as the lizard jerks awake on the islet and scans the river bank where Lyra had been standing. It's yellow eyes narrowed as a forked tongue came out and tasted the air while a tail as long as the creature's body snaked out and stretched the tatzlwyrm to a full 15 feet. The creature picked up Lyra's scent and a shockingly deep growl bubbled up from it's narrow chest.
Sudden motion rocked the islet as another tatzlwyrm exploded from a hidden opening in the mound and rushed to stand next to its mate, bright yellow eyes locked on the tree line. The first creature snarled at the arrival of the smaller tatzlwyrm before looking back at the trees. For a second it seemed as if the party would remain protected by the trees before the first dragons bright yellow eyes locked on them and the creature let loose with a loud, very draconic roar.
Lyra spat out a curse and held out a hand to her hawk, Mylee. The bird, who had been perched on the special mount attached to the saddle, took fight straight at the woman and shimmered with light just as she would have slammed into the open palm. Instead what appeared there was a staff of blue wood that snapped with tiny bolts of electricity. "Tatzlwyrm are a distant cousin to true dragons with neither their intelligence nor immense might. What they share with dragons is the desire to hoard and their taste for ANY kind of meat. We have no choice, we must kill them. Now that they have our scent they will never stop tracking us."
Meha wasn't sure what made Lyra move forward suddenly, but nature girl was nature girl. It could have been a rare species of bug for all Meha knew, but before long, it was clear whatever it was was few things. It wasn't friendly, it wasn't happy, and based on Lyra's words, it was some type of dragon. However, Meha felts good knowing they had already fell a true dragon, and lesser cousins while dangerous, were a lesser challenge. She grabs out her bow and then asks "What if we were to bait them to the trolls? Would that be helpful? Can we outrun this beast?" Meha ask, notching an arrow as she tries to get a better sight picture of their foes
Lyra looked back at Mehaila with an incredulous stare. "Try to drag them over fifty miles? They do not breath any fire nor would they provide any real challenge to a full grown troll. Let's just deal with them here so we don't have to worry about them in the future."
Rose thought for a moment as they readied themselves for the combat. "Do they breath some kind of weapon? Like acid or sleep?" She drew her bow, wishing that she had a little more preparation for what they were about to deal with. "How do they fair against cold?" She drew an arrow and started immediately making a concoction using her bomb reagents to create one of her notorious bomb arrows as a surprise parcel to their reptilian foes.
Domitian peered through the trees, and almost immediately spotted the two tatzlwyrms that Lyra had pointed out. "Magnificent scales. A shame they are so aggressive." He frowns as he gazes deeper toward where the second one came from, and his eyes widen ever so slightly. "It isn't just the two of them, either. Two more smaller ones poked out ever so briefly from the same hole the second one came out of. So that would make at least four." Without taking his eyes from the lizards, Domitian brings his bow to bear and retrieves an arrow. "Best be done with it quickly, then." He closes his eyes briefly, uttering a quick prayer to Erastil under his breath, and then opens his eyes and lets fly his first arrow. Then, almost quicker than the eye could follow, he quickly draws and looses a second and then a third arrow.
The Knight of Eratil's first salvo flew out in a blur, the bowstring humming loudly and each arrow producing an audible crack. Two of the arrows hit with enough force that they vanished completely into the body of the larger Tatzlwyrm, transfixing the creature and sending it to the ground in convulsions as blood spurted from the wounds. The other dragon jumped sideways as blood hit it's face, shaking it's head once to clear it's vision before roaring in berserk fury and charging forward towards the edge of the islet.
Despite the river being over fourty feet wide the small dragon used its tail like a spring and almost flew across the gap before smashing into a bush and tumbling into the underbrush, roaring and snarling the entire way.
Moira didn't see the creatures until one exploded from the water and landed in a bush. Thankfully she didn't loose track of it but good gods was it ugly. Like someone cut the wings off a wyvern and smashed it's face against a tree. A tree that insulted it's mother and now it was made at everything. She didn't hesitate to draw her bow and take aim. Thankfully its river scales didn't blend perfectly with the bush it had landed in. Carefully focusing on both shots, she sends two arrows whistling into the bush.
Domitian glances down at his arm in alarm, unsure of what is happening. Before he had time to consider it, though, the smaller lizard was springing across the river toward them. Brushing off his concerns for now, he quickly sent more arrows singing after the second beast, his eyes not losing track of it despite the sudden movement.
Before the dragon could so much as spit in the general direction of the party four arrows threw it back against a tree and pinned it. The last actions of the creature were spastic thrashing as it gave a few last twitches before death claimed it. Once both adults were finished it fell to Lyra to shapeshift into a tiger and steal into the burrow where the two younger tatzlwyrms were hiding. A brief and savage confrontation followed before the wounded tiger limped out of the burrow alone. Lyra shifted back into her humanoid form and healed her injuries with a couple of spells before washing the blood off in the river. After searching around the area where the tatzlwyrms had laired the party find the remains of an explorer with magical chainmail, a longsword made from strange metal, a pewter drinking stein, a silver ring and a jade carving of nude female elven monk.
Over the next two weeks the party ranges up and down through the forests, finding the rotting remains of a boggard and his strange tusked giant frog companion who had run afoul of a larger predator in the area. The next day they found a strange, smelly pond where they discovered the remains of a unicorn with it's horn chopped off. Rosa's divination revealed the creature had been killed with a Finger of Death spell. Though there were signs the unicorn had been killed a while ago there wasn't a single hint of deterioration, as if the bugs and other scavengers were giving the body a wide berth. It was Lyra who figured out that those killed by powerful fey were sometimes marked by the killer in a way that even their bodies shed a strange aura of repulsion to natural life.
With Mehaila's divine magic they are able to speak to the spirit of the slain unicorn. The only straight answers they could get from the beast was "Purest corrupted beauty". Once the party had buried and blessed the unicorn they moved back north in search of the rumored lost temple of Erastil. The next day they were rewarded, in a way, with the discovery of a tall statue of the Horned God standing at the edge of a vast swamp that stretched to the west. It took Domitian and Moira a day to properly cut away the vines and plants that had grown over the statue and clean it. Once they did they felt a warm sense of wellbeing sweep over them and would find their weapons supernaturally sharp for the next week.
The next day the party came across a vast hotspring that housed a pair of giant frogs who protested mightily at the presence of the adventurers. That night the party had bellies full of exquisitely prepared barbequed and spiced frog meat, the meat surprisingly tender and delicious. The hotsprings stunk heavily of rotten eggs but the water itself was wonderfully warm and heated from stable geothermal processes.
Finally two days later the party entered an area and it was Domitian who took the lead, his head filled with the presence of his deity, something he had only felt while within the Horned God's temples. His paladin sense unerringly led the party to a clearing ringed with thick nettles, it's border partially defined by ruined stone pillars. To the west is a looming, upthrust ridge of rock nearly 300 across and rising to moss-tipped height of 100 feet at the center. Carved into the rock was an immense elk, its antlers drooping down from its weathered face to frame a 50 foot wide cave entrance with stairs leading up to it. Both the steps and the elk face feel quite old and are encrusted with moss. A 50-foot-long over pool sits in the middle of the clearing, its waters thick with algae.
While exploring she had chatted with Dom, clearly sharing with a fellow practicer of faith different theories and other niceties, though it was clear by her subtle flirting and occasional brushes against him it was because she favored him. This was stopped however when they found the Horned God statue, for it was overgrown much more than she would have thought was allowed.
This unease grew when she saw the ruined temple. Hidden or not, she felt something was off, for what little she knew of Erastil the pool of water would have been clean if proper. Erastil did not like stagnation, and what she knew was that only stilled waters grew green. Unable to sense anything that would be helpful due to being a worshipper of a different god, she tells the group, "Be careful. Unless I miss my guess, this is not right. Should the water not be clean?" Her voice was clear that she was not completely sure since this was an Erastilian temple
"It's not up to the gods to keep their temples clear. After all temples are a construct of mortals. If mortals want them to stay clean then mortals can keep them clean." Lyra said softly, her eyes shifting between Domitian and Moira. "What do you want to do?"
Feeling rather ambivalent herself about the location, the druid was going to leave the decision making up to the people who actually cared about Erastil and his teachings. Personally she thought the deity to be too far stuck up his own behind. And a misogynist pig.
Rose was a little intrigued at the hot springs as it smelled strongly of sulphur, which peaked her curiosity and she spent time searching around for any reagents she could save for later use within her alchemy creations.
When it they were at the overgrown temple of Erastil and saw the water was green, she took a small sampling. "It looks like algae, which would mean that some of the fauna that was keeping it in check might have dwindled some to allow it to flourish so strongly." She looked around for any other signs of life aside from just the flourishing plant life in the water and upon the stone.
Trauma was a fickle creature.
When Delan had been rescued by the group of odd adventurers that had stumbled into his life, he’d been given a second chance to avenge the brutal murders of his parents. They had been hunting bandits, among other things, to rid the land of dangerous threats and he had been all too eager to join them. Especially when their journey was leading them straight to the top of the band of miscreants responsible for not only killing the people in his life that he cherished most, but also for creating the abomination that was Kressle. So when the group had offered to let him tag along, he accepted immediately, even pledging themselves to their bigger cause.
And they’d done it. The bandits had been destroyed, though they were hardly bandits anymore by the time they’d gotten there. It hardly mattered to him, of course. They had made things right, removed an evil from the land and now his family — as well as countless others who had been affected by the bandits — could rest in peace.
But what Delan quickly found was that he could not.
Once the deed was done and they had returned back to Oleg’s fort, Delan found he no longer had anything that was truly driving him. Before he could focus on putting his parents spirits to rest, but now all he could think about was Kressle and everything that had happened while he’d been with the bandits. The trauma was quickly catching up with him and he realized that he was in no condition to help his newly made allies. So he had elected to stay at the fort for a while, explaining to the others that he needed time to himself to spend with Shelyn, to meditate for need of spiritual healing. He would not abandon them. Right now they were everything he had, and he owed them everything, but he could not be of use to them in his current state.
Over the next few weeks, things did not get easier. He did his best to stay productive and to keep himself busy, mostly by helping Oleg and Svetlana around at the fort in whatever capacity they needed. Mostly it was a lot of cooking and manual labor, but he was more than happy to contribute. However, every night he was plagued by nightmares. He’d wake in cold sweats with the image of his parents’ bloodied, eviscerated bodies staring at him in horror and agony. The sound of Kressle’s voice rang vivid in his ear as if she were still beside him, mocking him, abusing him, using him. His skin would crawl where he could still feel her unwanted hands on his body, the scars she’d given him in the throes of her sick, twisted fantasies burning red hot as the day he’d received them.
Every night he wept. Nothing Delan did could erase those memories, or even make them less pronounced in his heart. No matter how hard he prayed, begging Shelyn in sobbing prostration to grant his aching heart mercy, nothing brought him healing. He became secluded, numb… hopeless. Less and less did he engage the people of the fort around him, withdrawing into himself and his unrelenting anguish until he appeared as little more than a haunted shell of the man that he was carrying himself to be even a couple weeks ago.
It was at the heart of his despair that a blessing finally came to clear his head and his heart. Without warning, Delan found himself the unintended eavesdropper to a vicious verbal argument between Svetlana and Oleg. It had shocked him to hear their raised voices unleashed on one another with such fury, when the couple had never been anything but tender and understanding toward one another, yet there they were. He did his best not to listen. It wasn’t his business. However, nothing could keep him from clearly hearing the roar of Oleg’s voice as he quite firmly informed his wife that he did not intend to bring a child into this world, not when it was so dangerous. Not when the only degree of security they had was a group of adventurers that were gone for weeks at a time with no guarantee that they’d return alive.
The argument had ended with Svetlana racing away in tears into their home, while Oleg practically stormed back to work on the living quarters they were attaching to the guards' barracks for when the adventurers stayed with them. Neither had noticed him. But Delan had noticed something very important. The way Svetlana had ran away, the way her hand was resting on her stomach so tenderly… protectively… it dawned on him that she was already pregnant.
Against his original intentions, he decided to intervene. Miraculously, Svetlana had answered when he knocked. She was an absolute wreck in a way that resounded with him on a very personal level. She simply looked how his heart felt: broken, anxious, lost. Ultimately, he’d needed to use a bit of magic to calm her down enough that she could talk. Seeing her so distraught, and being made privy to the greater details of her plight… well, it had opened his eyes. In that moment, it was like nothing else mattered anymore. The nightmares, the demons that had been assailing him for longer than he wanted to remember suddenly just weren’t important anymore.
His parents were dead, and nothing was going to bring them back. Delan’s spirit would ache for them every day, but they would not want him to live trapped under the weight of the torments he’d suffered. The things Kressle had done to him were unspeakable acts that he would never be able to unlive, things that probably would hinder him for years to come, but she was dead. She no longer had power over him, and neither should her memory. Here he was wallowing in sorrow and trapped in his past, while this beautiful, generous woman and her devoted husband were arguing over their future. A future that his companions were currently risking their lives to ensure.
He’d been so selfish.
Delan assured her that he and the rest of the group would not let them down. He promised her that they would not be so easily dispatched, not after facing down a demon and living to talk about it, not with such forces as Shelyn, Erastil, and Calistria to protect and strengthen them. All at once, it was like his vigor for life had returned, like his existence had renewed. Somehow, he’d managed to wrangle the couple back into a room together to speak to one another again. He couldn’t bare to see them at odds with one another, so he made sure they had begun to patch things up.
Then, he’d packed his bags. As he walked in solitude, Delan prayed once more to Shelyn, asking for forgiveness for the fear that he’d allowed to seed in his heart. He knew he needed to rejoin the others, to return to the path that would allow him to spread the glory of her grace and her love, to protect good people like Svetlana and Oleg so they could live without worry of ever having to face the horrors that he had. He asked for guidance, for Shelyn to help him find the ones he should have been with all along, and the goddess was kind enough to not only hear his prayer but to grant it.
A fairy came to him, a beautiful little creature of the fey that expressed she had been sent by Shelyn to aid him in not only finding his friends, but reaching them safely. The fairy cast a spell on him, and the rich scent of roses filled his nostrils. So long as the scent was strong, the fey told him, he would know he was heading in the right direction. Thanking the fairy for her help, and of course thanking Shelyn for answering his pleas, Delan set out at once to track the others down. It took him several days, but he met nothing along the way that he couldn’t handle.
By the time he caught up with them, they were uncovering an overgrown temple that appeared to belong to Erastil. It was in a state of disrepair with vines and moss growing over nearly ever surface, and a number of pillars and walls toppled from time left unattended. Delan made sure to approach noisily, so they would hear and see him coming. The last thing he wanted was to accidentally surprise them and get a blade to the stomach for his efforts. Or worse.
“It’s me,” Delan told them, approaching slowly until he was sure they realized who it was. He probably looked a little different. A trimmed but thick beard had grown around his jaw since the time they’d last seen one another, and he’d also lost quite a bit of weight. His cheeks were gaunt, his flesh a bit pale from weeks spent in mental and emotional turmoil, and it would be easy to tell just by looking at him that he’d been crying an awful lot lately. Despite this, however, he seemed happier than they’d have ever seen him before, light a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Delan smiled at them a bit bashfully, knowing how bizarre it probably looked for him to have tracked them down to the literal middle of nowhere.
Scratching his head a bit awkward as he approached them, he asked, “I don’t suppose you guys are interested in having another body tagging along again..?” For all he knew they were enjoying the lack of his presence, though after all this time that honestly would have surprised him. They were friendly people, even if a few of them got into a lot of disagreements with one another fairly often. Still, he preferred not to assume anything.
Moira grunts in acknowledgment of Delan's arrival, her eyes focused on the pool and statue. He had been through a lot and deserved a bit of encouragement for even coming back out here. But the task at hand required all her attention. Days ago she'd used up quite a bit of social capital to convince the others to let her take on the bear supposedly guarding this temple. Maybe even strained the relationships to the point they wouldn't respect her as much. But this was about respecting herself. Proving that she still had what it took to follow the path she had chosen. The problem was she saw no signs of the creature. Did Jhod lie or was she falling prey to a hunters worst habit; not seeing the forest for the trees?
Domitian felt a shiver run deep through him when he saw the elk carving, starting at the pit of his stomach and quivering up his spine and all throughout him. This was an old place, and powerful, he could feel that much. How had it gotten lost to time? What happened here in ancient days past to leave it empty and practically forgotten? He puzzled over these things as he just stood there, staring into the ruins, feeling the power of his god in this place. He was so focused that he barely seemed to notice the talking of the others around him. He gave no response when Lyra asked them what they wanted to do. Even when Delan showed up, Dom didn't look away from his vigil.
Of everyone, the only one to gain his attention was Moira. He felt her next to him, staring just as intently as him into the temple. "Can you feel it? There is an energy here."
"I..." She thought about lying. About saying that yes, she felt it too, an energy in the air. But that was a lie. She wasn't sure what she felt. Maybe it was just the anticipation, the feeling of importance, instinct that knowing there was an apex predator nearby but she couldn't see it. "don't know. Maybe. Still new to this." She takes a few steps forward and looks back at the others while she unslings her bow. "You guys will uphold your promise right? No interference unless it turns deadly." She knocks two arrows as she speaks. Ones enchanted against beasts. The last two she had. She'd really need to make them count.
Looks grimly as Delan returns, unsure how or why, but for now, the more important question on her mind was Moira's query. She was against letting her friend fight alone, however, sometimes that is how things were best done, and she knew it, from experience and stories told to her.
"I will step in to save your life. Do you want that when you are death's door or a bit before that? Still standing maybe?" Her voice told that she was not a fan of this course, but she would save her friend.
Rose looked up from her messing with the pool of algae and saw Delan approach and her heart almost leaped. "Delan! Good to see you!" She jumped up and moved over to him, letting her voice drop as she came closer to him for an embrace. "Is everything alright? Are you sure about joining us?" When she pulled back there was a slight look of concern in her eyes before it was once again replaced with the mirth she showed at his return.
"I most certainly won't turn you away, but those two seem engrossed in the ruins of Erastil. I wouldn't get between them if I were you." She teased and gave him a nudge before breathing a deep sigh and looking around them once more. "A lot of plants, but where are all the animals, the critters... so much green." She said, thinking out loud as she looked once more at the bottle she gathered and the extremely thick green algae within.
Domitian's eyes turn their heavy focus to Moira, and it is clear he is concerned. "This is likely not an ordinary bear guarding this place." He gestures towards the various large animal markings he spotted before continuing. "It is clear the beast has been here, but there are no animal droppings. A normal bear would have made a mess of this place long ago. You want this to be a natural fight, a test of your hunter skills, but that may not be the case here."
He frowns slightly and adds "We survive because of our community. We are not like those who faun for personal glory and accomplishment, we do what is good for the whole. Are you sure you wish to proceed here alone? Erastil may be calling you to a personal quest, and I'll respect that if you believe it to be so, but make sure in your own heart that this is not simply an endeavor of pride."
Moira nearly slaps herself in face at missing the tracks. And what's more is he's right. She was expecting a lot more destruction and scat for a bear. Not seeing those signs through her off the rest. Proof that she really needed to do this. "It's not pride." Okay, it's a little pride. "Don't know if it's a quest either but...it's about confidence. In my own skill and training. A community still needs strong members or won't survive the winter."
He was glad he’d taken the time to approach quietly, since it didn’t take long for him to realize that the group was indeed rather heavily focused on some task. Or at least, most of them were. Moira and Domitian were unsurprisingly nose deep in investigating signs through the ruins of their god, with Mehaila standing by to assist them.
It was Rose that took the time to approach him, surprising him with not only appearing to be excited to see him but also giving him a hug, a gesture of friendship that he hadn’t received from anyone in a long time. There was only a brief moment of shock before he squashed it down and accepted the embrace, returning it even. “I am still healing,” he admitted quietly, keeping his voice down to as not to interrupt what the others were doing, “I probably will be for a long time. But while I was at the fort, Shelyn took the time to help me… put things in perspective. I can’t go into too many details, because some of it is not my information to share, but I was reminded that my place now is here with all of you, trying to make this land safer so that the things that happened to me don’t happen to someone else.”
Despite knowing that they wouldn’t turn him away, as his goddess had made it quite clear this was where he was meant to be, he was still relieved when Rose vocalized that he was welcome to rejoin them. He chuckled lightly when she elbowed his ribs a little and commented on giving the others space to do their thing. “This place is beautiful, even in its state of overgrowth. Why are you guys here? What are you looking for?” Delan was still keeping his voice low so it wouldn’t carry over to the other and interrupt their focus, but his green eyes were furrowed in confusion and curiosity. He noted the vial of algae water in Rosa’s hand, obviously a sample of something that the alchemist planned on studying later.
Lyra eyed the clearing and took her time to track all of the small details, spotting the same signs that Domitian had. Her mind scrolled through reams of information before she remembered the most pertinent information about bears. "Supernatural or not, bears never sleep out in the open. My guess is the temple itself." she pointed past Moira and Domitian to the opening framed by the giant Elks horns.
Her eyes shifted over to Moira and she frowned at the proud fighter. "Think of what The Horned Gods teachings are. He does not want glory-seekers but those who seek cooperation and stability. We are a team, we are your community." The druid placed her hand on the taller woman's shoulder. "Let us help you."
While Moira makes her choice, Mehaila would wait until she walked away, before slapping her on the back with a simple spell, but powerful. " May your strength remain for this fight. You are alone for as long as you need, but you can take help before hand."
"Easy for you to say," Moira says, shrugging of Lyra's arm. "You don't need help." She stares at the cave a moment longer, expecting the creature to come charging out and making all this moot but nothing happens. And going in to face it head on would be dumb and prove nothing. "Go back beyond the pillars. I need to prepare some things," she says waving her hands at the others. She leaves the area as well but heads deeper into the forest. First she needed meat, or something a bear would eat.
Along the way she practices a few of the less strenuous spells available, trying to find something that might be useful. Appears to do nothing except make the colors she see's duller. Like the sun was beginning to set and light was growing dim. Curious she continued walking with it active until something finally lit up bright green in her vision. She walked over to get a closer look. It was brightly colored plant with conical flowers. Foxglove. She only remembered it because her father had warned er not to eat it. It was poisonous. Was that what this weird spell did? Show her poisonous things? Searching around she came across another bright plant, a bush with red flowers. Oleander. Also poisonous. That gave her an idea.
As she hunted for something a bear would eat she also gathered anything that light up. Most she could identify. Others she didn't realize were poisonous. Probably a local variety. Either way this would help. She takes her haul back to the others and shows Rosa her finds with mild excitement, forgetting for a moment of the upcoming hunt. "Can you tell me what's the strongest poison among these?" she asks, handing over a bouquet of flowers, shrubs and weeds. "And which might be tasteless and scentless?" she adds.
She then goes about preparing a trap. She didn't have any actual bear traps but a snare could work to at least hamper it. She digs up a partially buried, heavy rock and secures it tightly with rope. She throws the other end over a sturdy branch and pulls.
And hangs there.
Stupid rock weighed more than she did. She sighs. "Dom? Can you grab this? You weigh more than me?" With his plate armor and larger size it should be no problem for him. Once the rock is high in the air she ties it off and sets up a simple snare. It wouldn't lift the bear off the ground but it'd hamper it's movements.
Once Rosa identified the best poison she takes it and the food to the cave. Keeping a weary eye on the entrance she covers some of the food in the poison and buries it under the rest just in case the bear is unusually sensitive. Preparations complete she goes to hide near her trap.
And now we wait.
Rose turned from her bottle of green algae she was taking notes upon to the collective number of plants that Moira brought to her. She pulled out a set of simple lenses from her bag and laid the plants on some cloth in order to better examine them. After careful scrutiny and comparing the plants against her own notes about various poisonous plants that Lyra and herself had personally cultivated when they were growing up together.
After several moments she bit her lip softly and looked over to Lyra. Seeing her shake her head and frowning, she turned back to Moira. "I can see that you gathered these because they look like poisonous plants, but these are all mundane. I doubt even if you combine these you could even sicken what you use them on. And are you absolutely sure you wish to use poisons on this task of yours?" She pushed the lenses back up the bridge of her nose.
Domitian nods and follows any and all instructions Moira gives him, giving her the lead in this plan. He hefts up the rock for her, and holds it while she sets up her trap. Not really knowing too much about poisons, he just assumes she knows what she is doing. When all is set, he'll retreat with her to whatever hidden spot she chooses, holding Akiivos ready just in case. The waiting would be the hard part - hopefully their quarry would not try their patience too much.
Moira waits in the bushes by a tree some thirty feet from the trap she had set up. At that range she could pinpoint weak spots. She decided to switch to regular arrows first to grab it's attention. Once it was caught in the trap, she hopefully thought, then she'd switch to the beast bane arrows.
Beyond the tap was the pool and the cave opening. She mostly watched it sense it was a natural den for a bear but she also slowly swiveled her head in case it didn't come from there. She couldn't see it from this distance but the food was also lying on the ground near the pool and the cave entrance. Bears had notoriously good constitutions since the ate practically anything but hopefully Rosa found something capable of at least hampering it. Maybe she should look into that more? Poison arrows might help. She didn't trust herself at the moment to apply any without infecting herself as well. That'd be a sad end. Poisoned herself while hunting a bear. Died and was eaten.
She smiled and focused back on the cave. Then she swiveled left and right. Over and over, never allowing her focus to stay too long in one place. It'd be just as sad to die because the bear sneaked up on her. Patience was the key now and patience she had. She'd prove her worth to the others. And to herself.
A few minutes after Moira and Domitian set up the trap there is a snapping noise as the snare yanks itself up from it's poorly set anchoring pin and the loop goes flying high and lodges itself in tree branches. Before anyone could move to reset it there is a guttural huffing noise from the temple and a large brown bear ambled out of the doorway in a side to side gait, sniffing loudly through it's nose. The bears dark eyes zeroed in immediately on the paladin standing behind some bushes and it roared a defiant challenge, breaking into a sprint and crossing the distance far faster than a beast of that size should be able to move.
Moira flinched at sound of her trap snapping but stayed quiet. And it was good she did because a few moments later the beast made itself known. Even at this distance she could tell it was huge for it's kind. And also apparently fast for one too. It charged out of the cave like a horse...but not at her. She looks over at it's target. Dom stands halfway out of a bush, plate armor gleaming in the sun. Seriously, who taught him to hide? She doesn't have time to think anymore. Only to act. She follows the bears progress as best she can and swaps out arrows. She needed to gets its attention, now.
Lyra watched as the huge bear came roaring and charging at the worshipers of Erastil, her heart fluttering as she stood still and watched the angry predator attack her friends. Her familiar Mylee had transformed into her staff form and the short woman clutched the blue wood tightly, the grains creaking under the pressure. An errant bolt of electricity snapped at the faes' hand in irritation but the woman ignored it.
Why? Why would you do this Old Man? Your rage is forcing your followers to kill each other. Purity? Honor? You sully the very concept! the thoughts boiled Lyra's head as she felt her anger growing with every second. Standing here and watching gave her plenty of time to study the bear closely and she saw there was something wrong with the creature's movement. Erastil's teachings, the state of the bear, the way the information was delivered to them...
"You son of a whore!" the druid snarled under her breath, not caring that she was directing her words at a god. She stepped forward with a spell on her lips and almost broke her nose when she slammed into an invisible wall between steps. She held her hand against the wall and slid sideways, finding that the barrier was smoother then silk and slicker then ice and absolutely flawless.
Muttering a quick enchantment Lyra blinked her eyes a few times as the spell took hold and found...nothing. No magic held her back, no physical force...she was being held back by the invisible and unbreakable will of a god.
"Fine!" she snapped as she stepped back and stood with her hips cocked at an angle. "Let your children spread blood in your name. Such greatness."
Lyra watched as the huge bear came roaring and charging at the worshipers of Erastil, her heart fluttering as she stood still and watched the angry predator attack her friends. Her familiar Mylee had transformed into her staff form and the short woman clutched the blue wood tightly, the grains creaking under the pressure. An errant bolt of electricity snapped at the faes' hand in irritation but the woman ignored it.
Why? Why would you do this Old Man? Your rage is forcing your followers to kill each other. Purity? Honor? You sully the very concept! the thoughts boiled Lyra's head as she felt her anger growing with every second. Standing here and watching gave her plenty of time to study the bear closely and she saw there was something wrong with the creature's movement. Erastil's teachings, the state of the bear, the way the information was delivered to them...
"You son of a whore!" the druid snarled under her breath, not caring that she was directing her words at a god. She stepped forward with a spell on her lips and almost broke her nose when she slammed into an invisible wall between steps. She held her hand against the wall and slid sideways, finding that the barrier was smoother then silk and slicker then ice and absolutely flawless.
Muttering a quick enchantment Lyra blinked her eyes a few times as the spell took hold and found...nothing. No magic held her back, no physical force...she was being held back by the invisible and unbreakable will of a god.
"Fine!" she snapped as she stepped back and stood with her hips cocked at an angle. "Let your children spread blood in your name. Such greatness."
Rose had watched Domitian and Moira with almost a sense of detachment as they waiting for their quarry to come and reveal itself. She almost giggled at the trap having freed itself, but the feeling was slowly replaced with dread as she saw the creature make its appearance. She frowned and turned to her sister, watching her ready a spell.
And then blinked as she walking into... nothing? What? How? It made no sense and even Lyra was perplexed and unhappy with how things were going. She moved closer to Lyra, asking "What is it? What happened?" She didn't understand what was going on but she knew Lyra had pieced something together and she began to worry what was to happen next. She reached to touch her own staff, more as a sense of comfort since Lyra's outburst was concerning in what it could mean.
She turned to the others about to be set upon by the large bear, watching their fight in awe, feeling even more detached than before.
Domitian's eyes widen in alarm as this massive beast begins to charge at him. Curse it all, I'm not used to hiding and sneaking. He looked around the clearing, wondering how he could stay out of this fight now and try to give Moira the trial she desired. More time, I need more time... He focuses his will, and light seems to bend in a 30ft radius around Dom.
As he does this, his wings sprout once more from his back - but they now look completely different than they did before. Gone is the fire that used to be present, though it still glowed with a gentle and protective light. The wings themselves almost appeared to be feathered, but not like normal feathers - almost like some cross between leaves and feathers. And they were the deepest, calmest green, with flecks of brown, like the upper limbs of some ancient protective tree.
His wings begin to beat in a stead rhythmic motion, producing a sound and a breeze that felt like a strong wind through a deep forest. They effortlessly lift him into the air, and bring him to a hovering stop about 50ft above the bear.
He then takes a long blink, calling on Erastil to grant him vision to see the nature of this beast. When his eyes open, they glow ever so slightly, and he gazes at the bear.
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S*+# it's fast, is the only thought that goes through her head as the bear turns blindingly fast in her direction. She can't get out of the way of the first hit but it pushes her away enough to avoid the second. Using that momentum, she lunges further back...and practically glides across the ground. The world slows down like everything is swimming through water. All except her and...Dom? She glances around and notices the others are also slowed. All except Dom and his strange tree wings. They are oddly comforting. In this slowed time frame she as able to make out there faces too.
Lyra is angry. Shouting at something in the sky. The gods perhaps? Rosasaria looks tense. Like she wants to jump in but can't. Mehaila looks sexy. Not the time damnit. Delan looks worried. He just came back and she just brushed him off. All because of pride. And Dom. Dom looks confident. Not in himself, but in her. He's confident she can handle this. He never really doubted her. None of them did.
She only doubted herself. When did that happen? Sure she was surrounded by amazing people constantly doing amazing things. Dom in combat raining arrows, mighty blows and holy light. Lyra with her magic and enormous dreams. Rosa with her alchemy and great explosions. Mehaila and her subtlety and silver tongue. But when did that ever matter? She wasn't ever going to be a great mage, or scholar, or diplomat, or even a fighter. She had pride in being a hunter but that was never the goal. She only ever wanted to be a great smith.
But right now her ego and stupidity might just ruin that. Fighting a bear alone even with all this extra power was dumb. They were apex predators for a reason. Fast on land. Powerful enough to squash you in a single swipe. Big enough to shrug off most attacks. You never face one up close if you don't have to. And here she was, doing just that. In fact, the world was beginning to speed up and the bear was charging. It reacted to her retreating with uncanny speed. She needed more room, fast.
Wings of fire erupt from her back for a brief moment and flap with tremendous strength. They launch her to the side and out of the way as it comes charging by. Three arrows are in her hand in the blink of an eye and fired in another blink. Just as the bear turns, two take it in the eyes, veering at the last minute as their enchantments pull them towards vital areas. The last lad no enchantment and flies by its head. Enraged, the bear charges at her even faster. There is no time to dodge. She draws and knocks without thinking and takes aim. Years of practice and hunting let's the arrow flow from quiver to string to cheek in one smooth motion. Unblinking, she watches the bear charge.Watches it's gait. Waiting for the moment.
There.
Just as all four legs leave the ground. Just as it's fully extended in the air, unable to dodge, and mouth open. She takes the shot. Throughout her life, there has been moments were Moira instinctively knew a shot was going to make it. Like some sixth sense was of the success before it ever made contact. These have always been few and far between when practicing. And even rarer in hunting. This shot sends that same shiver through her mind. She knows it's going to be a kill shot. It strikes the roof of the bear's mouth and knocks its head back. Then, like a puppet with it's strings cut, it falls...right on top of her.
To the others it may seem like the bear succeeded and pounced on their poor, dim hunter. Thankfully it's only crushing her legs. Those can heal. She gives it a few test pushes but she can't get any leverage. Crap. She's gonna need help to get this off. Good thing she has friends. Hopefully they weren't feeling too spiteful. "Little help here?"
The moment the bear died the force keeping everyone except the faithful of Erastil vanished. A wave of nothing swept through the clearing as a shimmer in the leaves and breath of air that swept up a puff of fallen leaves. The layers of fallen leaves began to to fade away like smoke in the wind, the vapor swirling into the sky and vanishing. The world sighed as the colors became bright, the sound of birds shattered the stillness that had sunken into the very stones of the temple and the scummy pool of water began to reflect sunlight as the algae and other rot vanished, leaving behind crystal clear fluid.
The same sigh passed through the bear corpse crushing Moira's legs and it began to shrink, brown fur absorbing back into the pale white skin and bones shifting and shrinking into the form of an ancient human man with an arrow riddled face. Before the parties eyes the human smiled a bloody smile of thanks and forgiveness before the pale skin went gray and sank down to the bones, age catching up in a flurry that reduced the old man into a pile of dust. Something metallic poked into Moira's legs, a flash of gold buried in the ash.
The stones tiles of courtyard began to appear one by one as hundreds of years of rot and debris was scoured into nothingness and the weathered Stag on the rock wall shimmered and gained definition, all signs of age vanishing. In a few moments the temple appeared as newly made, the tiles of the courtyard close fitted and smooth, the pool scoured until the white marble edge glowed in the sunlight as the water sparkled with clarity. Sconces appeared where only rusted spots had been, filling themselves with torches that flickered to life with a steady and warm glow.
Moira watches in stunned horror as the bear shrinks into a man. An ancient man that smiles a strangely thankful smile while with an arrow sticking out of his eyes and mouth. Then she watched the flesh turn grey and the body to ash in a few moments. She scrambles to her feet as a barely contained a scream of disgust and panic sends a shiver through whole body. She closes her eyes to take a deep breath and looks back down. Yep, the pile is still there. That really happened. The shivering stops as stared down in surprise. There is something in the ash. Something golden. She reaches down to pick it up.
Mehaila started to move forward once the barrier was gone, clearly not pleased to have been forced out of a fight, and for Dom to suddenly be flying high in the area when he had just been standing somewhat in the open. Things had played out a bit to fast for even her eyes to follow, but all she knew was that Moira was now under a bear that was moving.
Intent on saving their fighter who was clearly being mauled by a bear powered by magic, Meha missed the obvious result until once upon them, as the bear was shifting into an old human, and then shifting into dust. The screaming by Moira was of no help either, causing Meha to jump backwards and land on her ass, because she was not expecting any of what was happening in front of her. And quickly threw up as Moira started digging in the ashes, as if she was looking for something. She heaved for a bit, clearly bothered by whatever was happening right here.
Dom had barely had time to register that the bear was not evil before everything was already over. Things usually moved fast around this group, but seriously, that was incredible. From his vantage point, he had seen Moira's arrows find their target, and so he was not terribly concerned when the bear fell on her - he knew a fatal shot when he saw one. And what a shot it was, too - clean, quick, and professional. The bear might not be evil, but it was still attacking unprovoked, and you really couldn't mess around with raging bears. He smiles slightly in sympathy as Moira gets pinned, and immediately flies down to her. He lands quietly, and his wings fold in behind him, still giving off that comforting light.
Before he has a chance to respond to Moira's call for help, before he can say anything or finish moving toward her, the bear begins to change. Dom's eyes alight in horror as the once-bear becomes an old man, and just as quickly begins to turn to ash. What is this? What have we done? Akiivos, still in his hand, echos back calmly in his mind Look around. Cursed this place was. Now it's not.
So wrapped up in the horror of the old man, Domitian hadn't even noticed the other changes going on around him. As horrific as the transformation of the old man was, the transformation of the temple around them was a thing of beauty. He looked up at the Stag, now fresh and clean and clear, and he was comforted. Death is not always a bad thing.
"You...you can't stop me..." the entity grimaces as it struggled to pull the blessed arrow out. White fire erupted when his fingers touched the wood and he pulled back with a hiss, his finger tips blackened. "This isn't.......over." he manages with a last gasp before collapsing on the table. Domitian sees the angry red aura flicker once before shriveling up into a cloud of ash that blows away with the next gust of wind. For several seconds the clear, pain filled eyes of the leader lock on the paladin. "Thank you."
Domitian shakes the memory away, then goes to Moira in concern as she trembles. "Are you OK?"
Rose watched in apt fascination as the bear attacked Moira, and then she must have blinked too long, because she didn't even immediately follow where Moira went before the bear started taking arrows. Just as quickly the bear managed to turn and start barreling towards her once more before it was executed with a shot mid-leap and landed on her.
It felt like Rose had stopped breathing for some time, as the strange sigh washed over the immediate area, she also breathed deeply, and started to follow Domitian and Mehaila in their decision to approach.
She stumbled in her steps as she thought the bear was moving, but it was the shifting and changing from bear to old man to dust that caught her off-guard. She grimaced as she watched him rapidly decay so quickly that the flesh and tissue was immediately desiccated. She found herself in awe how quickly it had happened, and then concerned at the sound of Mehaila heaving and retching nearby.
"You didn't breathe in the remains did you? Hold on, I may have something to remedy the sickness and taste..." She started to rummage through her supplies, pulling out the bottle which she took the algae sample with earlier, pausing for a moment as she did so.
Moira opens her mouth to respond to Domitian but closes it quickly. Her first impulse was to say something terse or sarcastic. After a moment she decides that no, she is not okay and that a bear turning into a man, while par for course for them, was not something you just brush off. Especially since he seemed to advance 1000 years, going from husk to dust, in the blink of an eye. And smiling creepily.
"I'll get back to you." There. Much closer to the truth. She turns back to the holy symbol she found. It was gold plated like the real fancy ones she'd seen some clerics use. But it didn't seem to age or tarnish like the rest of it's previous owner. Weird. Was it his? Was he the cleric who was supposed to be tending to this place? Was it a reward for defeating him? Was anyone going to answer those questions? Probably not. Moira said a quick prayer and tucked it away hoping to put it out of her mind.
Her prayer was answered almost immediately as she turned around. All thoughts of the previous ordeal left her mind as she watched the temple return to it's previous luster. It was like a curse had been lifted. Where the bear-man aged quickly, the temple went in reverse loosing ages in seconds. The stone floor reappeared from the thick carpet of loam while crystal clear waters pushed away algae, plants, and bugs from the pool. The stag re-emerged from the hanging vines, uncovering it's eyes which seemed to stare down at her, judging.
She leans over and whispers, "Feel free to hit me if I ever do something that dumb again."
The party would spend the next couple of days recuperating after the short but brutal fight with the powerful grizzly, the paladin and fighter spending that time exploring the sparce furnishings of the temple. Any furniture would rotted long ago but they would see that the temple also doubled as a hunter's cabin of sorts, several wall niches inside the building holding the remains of many different types of supply. While the two may have wanted to stay longer the rest of the party expressed impatience with wanting to return to Oleg's and finally strike out on their own to gain a permanent foothold into the area.
When they arrived back at the fort several days later they would be rewarded with 1800 gold and the eccentric hermit Boken would take the fangberries from Lyra and promise to return in a few weeks with potions. Jhod, the erstwhile cleric of Erastil, was overjoyed to hear of the temple's cleansing and he had sunk to his knees to kiss the hands of Moira and Domitian with tears streaming down his face. Once the emotion had passed he had sworn to see to the temple for rest of his life and promised to provide any spellcasting the party would need, free of charge. The very next day armed with only a staff and longbow the cleric had vanished into the forest with a large bundle of supplies on his back.
Now that the most imminent threat bad been abolished the party was allowed to take an extended break, time to sew worn clothing and see to any other repairs that were needed. When the message had arrived two weeks later from an official messenger Lyra had been the one to read what the Lords of Brevoy sent. Her eyes had widened at what she read and gathered the party to alert them that a very large caravan of materials would arrive in two weeks. It was clear to everyone that that many supplies would overwhelm Oleg's tiny fort, no matter how quickly they could expand it. Where did they want to finally throw down stakes and raise the flag of their fledgling nation?
For three days the party bickered back and forth about the merits of the various areas they had come across and tamed. Everyone quickly agreed that a certain young hungry plant would be left alone and the conversation finally arrive on one of two spots. While they agreed that the hill the Stag Lord's fort had been built on was a good spot due to it's location the enormous tree that the mites had built their home under also popped up. The size of the colossal plant could hold thousands of people, maybe even more with careful construction. With the height advantage any attacking force would have to climb to reach the defenders. As for water, the casters in the party agreed that while it would take time it was more then feasible to create a strong and steady supply of clean water for the settlement.
The unorthodox idea was finally accepted and the party shared a drink in celebration. The next day they took everything they had gathered over the past few weeks, wagons, bones, horses, Moira's tools, everything they would need for their new home and set out. They left a detailed map created by Lyra for Captain Garess to share with any others who might arrive and shared goodbyes with Svetlana and Oleg, promising any aid if the pair required it.
It would take over a week for the slow moving party and the herd of horses to travel to the great tree and set up tents. Mehaila would be kept busy every day with using almost all of her daily magic to summon water for the party and the herd of horses that Lyra insisted on keeping. After three days of this her complaints could be heard from miles away and she extracted a promise from the druid to look for a solution to this dilemma. Water and other problems quickly cropped up when the first wagons of the caravan arrived a week later, dozens of tents springing up overnight to contain the over fifty settlers who had decided to uproot their lives in Brevoy and strike out for the unknown.
Seeing how food and water were in dangerously short supply Lyra decided to tap into the secret gems source they had discovered and spent several days using summoned earth elementals to bring her any jewels they could find in the walls. Once she had a bag full of rough gems the druid and her sister set out to Restov to look for a caster who could send them to the largest city in the world, Absolom. The reason for this was because the group decided that was the only location that would have the market capable of handling some of the larger gems they had pulled from the mine.
Three days later the sisters looked up at the staggered skyline as the towers of the biggest city in the world loomed hundreds of feet overhead. It took them two days to find a reputable gem broker who could afford the prices required for the largest of the items Lyra had to offer. Once they made it past the ogre bodyguards and fussy elven clerk they spent several hours haggling with an astute gnome gem merchant. Lyra's smooth and logical arguments impressed the rich merchant and he offered her a deal on any future gems so long as he was their sole gem broker. After signing the contract establishing the lucrative trade deal the sisters spent the next several days searching Absolom's immense markets for all manner of magic items and raw trade goods to carry back with them, safely tucked away in the numerous portable holes they had purchased.
After shopping for shopping for a day the sisters had spent quite a lot and several of their portable holes were full. Deciding they had been gone for long enough they triggered the magic ring Lyra had deemed necessary and vanished from right in the middle of the street. Seconds later they were standing several hundred feet away from tent city that had sprung up at the base of the giant tree. Already settlers were hacking away at the roots of the immense plant, carting away entire sections of thick root wood.
Lyra almost attacked the loggers when she saw this, her fury so thick that Rosa had to physically restrain her twin. The logging was halted soon after and the first law of the fledgling nation established; No axe or saw would ever touch Hometree. Instead the settlers would have to settle for the several tons of finished lumber that the druid revealed from within a portable hole. Once after another, the magic storage devices were emptied to reveal all manner of building materials and the necessary tools.
The problem of water was solved with two Decanters of Endless Water that had been purchased in Absolom and were quickly put to use. Hunters soon began to range in ever increasing areas around the great tree, bringing in all manner of wild game. Using magic and blade the hills directly around the tree were attacked and slowly shaved away, the dirt moved closer to the tree and cleaned of any large rocks. The rocks were set aside to be used in building materials while the fresh dirt was prepared for the first farms.
Within a week of the twins return the ringing sound of hammered metal could be heard from dawn to dusk, a smithing city growing out from the always lit forge of the fighter, Moira. Using her new adamantine tools the flamed-haired woman worked tirelessly to produce armor and weapons for her party, many times her sweaty arms surrounded by lines of glowing dwarven text. Inspired by the tireless human other smiths set up shop and began turning out everything the new settlement needed.
Within a month it was clear to all settlers who the real leaders of the fledgling nation were. Domitian would find himself settling disputes and answering all manners of questions, people looking to the paladin for guidance. Mehaila would often secrete herself away in her tent, flashes of light illuminating the cloth walls from within as she worked with the fine threads of magic that sank into the items she was also making for the party. Delan found himself using his bardic and clerical magic on a daily basis to encourage and strengthen the workers as the first houses began to rise up in a ring around the Tree. Scrolls began to churn out from Lyra at a rapid pace, her fingers constantly stained silver by the magical ink she used. She would take one day a week to pull out her drawings and compare them with Domitian and Delan, making sure that the general plan for a ringed city around the tree were being followed with certain spaces being left open for construction of the PC's houses.
Days turned into weeks and then turned into months, the sun sinking lower and lower over the horizon as the days grew colder and colder and winter fully settled on the River Kingdoms. The first winter the fledgling settlement had ever experienced hit the settlers hard and without mercy, the party being forced to used any and all means to save people from freezing temperatures and starvation. Luckily no one died over the cold, dark months and work continued on, albeit at a much slower pace. When spring finally arrived the community would be very changed with housing built for all the people involved. The Great tree was also altered as Lyra began to use her druidic magic to gently shape the outer surface and mold a set of stairs stairs that began to slowly spiral around and up the massive plant. Once the way up was completed a detachment of settlers were assigned the task of watching the immense seed pods the tree would produce and securing each with a net that would prevent the heavy masses from crashing onto the buildings below.
During this time the first tentative relationship with Shezen's kobold tribe was established with the young chief visiting on multiple occasions to show the settlers that these particular creatures were friends. Once everyone had become comfortable with each other trade began to slowly start flowing between the two locations and the first steps of becoming one greater community were taken. Secret talks with the kobolds resulted in an agreement for the Kobolds to work on extracting the mithril and gems from the underwater mine, once winter released it's icy grips and the pond unfroze. In return one day the party would help the kobolds by venturing into the flooded sections and clearing them out.
Throughout the winter every few weeks there would be strange weather that ran the gamut from very heavy snow that collapsed a house to burning clouds that literally set birds on fire yet the temperature remained below freezing. Though the party members and their settlers often struggled through the strange and often dangerous weather they endured and came out on the other end a tighter knit community.
Late in spring when the snows finally began to melt the first signs of trouble began to surface. Hunters came across the remains of one of their own, torn limb from limb and surrounded by the tracks of large humanoids. Two more deaths occurred before the hunters began to travel in groups and track any signs of whatever was doing this. When one of the parties simply vanished a call was made and all of the hunters returned home and the town was set on high alert. To the members of the party it was clear that playtime was over and their people needed action.
What started as a normal day quickly descended into chaos as clouds formed over part of the city and the people began to panic, the streets devolving as people began to run in every direction. When any PC manages to stop one of the running people they will hear news about something is freezing people to death down in the Cauldron, where most of the craftsmen of the city ply their trade.
When they look, that happens to be exactly where the low hanging clouds have formed, blanketing that part of the city in fog.
When they arrive they will see a thick circle of people blocking all roads leading to the heart of the Cauldron, where Moira's forge happens to be. When the PCs manage to push their way through they will find Moira standing at the very edge of no-mans land, her feet inches away from a field of every growing ice. 80 feet away her shop is slowly being encased in ice as clouds of sub-zero something pump out of the shattered windows.
The others find Moira, sword in hand, prowling around the edge of the frozen zone and shouting at anyone nearby. Small clumps of ice hang from her red hair and patches cover her armor. "Civilians clear the are!. Militia, clear them out and establish a perimeter! 200ft minimum! Send word to any casters to gather on me! Any with spells to resist the elements!"
As the others arrive she fills them in with what little she knows. "Something is freezing my damn forge. Can't get close without turning into an icicle. I've got some protection but it's not enough." She turns back to the forge and looks down at the lump on the ground only 20 ft from the forge. "S$&!. Hans was still in there."
Lyra moved to the side as more militia arrived and began to herd people away, forming a growing circle with their bodies. She stepped next to Moira and gently pushed her hand forward, frowning as she felt the bite of the cold slam up against the magic of her blood-red robe and fail. "My robe protects me from the cold. Let me see whats happening inside the shop."
Without waiting for a response she pushed past the taller fighter and strode into the circle. Her robe seemed to become even more red, the depth of color sinking until it appeared as if she was coated with blood as the magic protected her from the hungry cold. She spared the lump under the ice a single glance before walking right up to the outer edge of the billowing vapor. She stepped from side to side trying to see into the window before losing her temper and throwing her hand out with a harsh word.
Bright flame spilled from her palm and slammed into the clawing vapor with a thunderous detonation that threw the short woman back a step. For a second the temperature in the immediate area rose several degrees before more freezing vapor boiled out of the window and began to take control once again.
Lyra stepped quickly back and walked back to the gathered party. "It's coming from one of the barrels. I could see the vapor explode out of it like a fountain when my fire disrupted it. What's in the barrel to the left rear of where your sharpening wheel is?" she asked Moira.