Satisfied that he can work magic once more*, though somewhat less than satisfied with the results, Anwel steps out of the pool. Modifying the spell slightly, he dries himself and his clothes, siphoning the water back into the pool. He does the same for Stellan, Imon, and Gorax when they climb out of the pool, and hands back Stellan's overcoat (). Anwel's hands are deeply stained, and he can only imagine what his face looks like, but what is important is that they work. He will not try and purge the stain. The spell had failed on the robes; he does not want to think about what it might do to skin if it fails. Maybe the Seed of Life can heal his hands. Finally, he throws the robes back on and replaces the sextant and slate on his sash. After a moment, his body stops shaking.
"Well," he says, tugging at the wool to make sure it falls comfortably, "I am sorry to have held us up." Growing a little more confident, he runs his fingers up and down his chest, shoulders, legs, and arms, seeding the strong scent of southern cedars into the wool (). Satisfied that he will not drive anyone away with his rancidness, he does the same for Gorax. It will not purge the underlying odor, just as his dying had not purged the stain, but as long as Anwel can cast he will be able to renew the enchantments every hour or so until a more permanent solution can be devised. That being the case, he feels ready to rejoin the rest of the group. "You could have left me behind and continued with the mission," he says, turning on his heel and putting up his hood. "I am not sure why you did not," he admits, his back to the others, "though I am grateful." When he had come out and asked for their help they had, all but Udo, treated him like a convict, to be either punished or shown clemency. What had he done to inspire them to help him now? "I was not under the impression that you valued my life or my company all that highly."
Anwel begins to walk back to the trail, pausing to pick a springy-looking birch wand off the ground. He notices Vinur's odd behavior, but does not bother trying to divine what it means. Stellan is infinitely more qualified to do that. Instead, he grasps the end of the wand with one hand and brings it down hard on the other, grunting and grinding his teeth in pain. He manages six smacks with the switch before getting back to the trail. On the seventh, the wand breaks, and Anwel tosses it aside.
"What?" he says, looking with interest at his hand to see how the ordinary redness of inflammation will interact with the stain left by the bubble residue. Looking at his hand also keeps him from making awkward eye contact with the others. "Lissala says to treasure knowledge. This is penance for helping destroy something instead of understanding it. It will also help me remember the skull's properties should the opportunity to understand such a thing ever arise again." Speaking of the skull, Anwel takes off one of his tabards, scoops up the pieces, and wraps them up for further study. "A dagger would have taught a more permanent lesson, but I did not want to take advantage of Stellan's and Imon's generosity by asking to borrow one."
Tentatively, Anwel approaches Lairochal, ready to retreat should his efforts at perfuming his robes not be sufficient to convince her to let him ride. "An interesting perspective," he says to Vrag. "What would you say to the argument that a society built on domination must always either seek futilely to dominate nature or to be dominated by it?"
1. Prestidigitation cannot clean objects affected by bubble residue;
2. Prestidigitation cannot de-odorize objects affected by bubble residue;
3. Prestidigitation can temporarily dye objects affected by bubble residue;
4. Prestidigitation can temporarily perfume objects affected by bubble residue.
Andrei smiles at the returning companions "Excellent, we better get moving we have lost enough time already." He urges his mount foward pulling Vrag's along behind.
Stellan cleans ups with Anwel's aid. At Anwel's suggestion that he would be abandoned Stellan protests, "Anwel, don't be so self-effacing, if any had decided to abandon you, I would have stayed behind, and I think all know that. All agreements will be kept, no one is left behind."
Stellan looks disturbed by Anwel's "cutting" behavior but says nothing leaving him to his choices.
Thinking it over Stellan comes to conclusions about the magic they just experienced. Activating a message spell, Stellan informs Warren and Andrei, "I'm fairly sure now that spell was fae magic and that we have offended some of the local fae. I'm not sure how but I think we should come up with a way to make amends to them, again we need allies, not more foes."
As Stellan is about to climb back up to Hjarta's sadddle, he looks for Vinur and sees him very attentive to the south again. Stellan goes over to him, saying, "Is there something there Vinur, a coney or something more?"
Perception: Anything there?
Survival: Any interesting tracks?
If he sees nothing interesting, Stellan will pick up Vinur and will bring him to the saddlebag, and prepares to ride.
If he does notice someting, Stellan will react appropriately.
Imon scoffed at Anwel's suggestion. "Don't be stupid. I've seen what you can do. Your abilities would be too hard to replace to throw you by the wayside so quickly.
As they began moving, Imon couldn't help but wonder what motivated Warren's question? Did he hope to find some common ground with the beast, or was there something else? It seemed to be a false premise, anyway. Nature was at its best, and most useful when it was properly managed. Why bother with gathering berries from bushes when you could farm the land for the food you wanted? Why bother hunting for meat when you could raise livestock for food?
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Gorax ignores Anwel's suggestion of abandonment, It is the madness of these magic users, they have no idea. He shrugs as he mounts and continues, The Lords of Brevoy put us together for a reason, we stay as one. his thoughts kept to himself, his face now grim with determination to catch these creatures that created the foul smelling skull. "Yes, I agree Andrei." he calls over.
Warren is glad to get things moving again. He is careful to note the position of the sky and release the goblin prisoners at just past midday and send them back. Speaking to the ogre, Warren resumes the conservation:
"I can see you understand the power of natural forces. I have spent my life understanding and working in harmony with them. That last lesson learned with the bubbles was the danger of upsetting higher powers. Gozreh, my patron, is at the top of these natural forces."
Vinur continues to sniff the air for a few seconds, but then it typical puppy fashion, looses interest and comes dashing up to Stellan.
When Stellan, Anwel, Imon, and Gorax rejoin the others it seems that both the mage and barbarian are in much better shape. Anwel's robes are once again the deep black and the two now smell of cedar. In fact, Gorax actually smells better than he has for quite some time. For those who have been traveling with him it almost feels a little disconcerting to have the barbarian both clean and scented.
Lairochal steps away from Anwel at first but then steadies and settles letting the elf ride without any trouble as Vrag points the party down the side trail. The path loops around a small hill and after some initial twists and turns leads generally west. Progress is slow as the trail is narrow and overgrown in several places.
When released, the two goblins quickly flee back down the trail in the direction the group just came from.
The bugbear nods at Warren, "These woods are full of fae and other much more deadly creatures. It is one reason, why most of the tribes stay further west in the hills."
"Перейти добре, і знайти без проблем. Принесіть ніяких проблем," says Anwel. He does not expect to meet them again. With any luck, he will not have to speak their tongue again for some time. It tastes like ash in his mouth, even moreso than everything else. He wonders whether that might be a special effect of the residue.
"Is that who you think put the skull on the trail, then, Warren?" asks Anwel, getting reacquainted with the rhythm of riding. "Gozreh?" He finds the idea difficult to dismiss logically. Given the reason they are in the Narlmarches in the first place, the idea of finding a divine relic by the wayside is not too outlandish. Still, something about the suggestion feels off to him. Creating a bubble field from a goblin's skull seems, to Anwel, to be beneath a god.
While he waits for Warren's answer, Anwel's thoughts turn to Stellan's and Imon's. Neither demands a response on his part, but neither, in turn, really answers his question: what had changed since yesterday? He had demonstrated no new ability for Imon to prize. Even the casualness with which had had gone into the bubble field was not new. The spider-riders had been more dangerous than the bubbles, and Anwel had faced them alongside Imon when it would have been smarter to flee. Still, just in case Imon's stated reason is his true one, Anwel feels he had better develop some new ability, and quickly. Maybe it is time to return to that idea for creating darkness...
As for Warren, Anwel suspects he was only half-listening. Not that he can blame the witch: Anwel had his back turned to him and was walking away when he spoke, and his reedy voice does not carry terribly well even with facing and eye contact. And no doubt he was more concerned with Vinur's strange behavior. Still, the very point of what Anwel was saying was that he did not know that Warren - or anyone besides possibly Udo, for whom there was precedent - would stay behind if the others left. Argue against their leaving maybe, but that was all he would have expected. Furthermore, Warren's comments suggest he thinks he owes Anwel something. What, Anwel cannot imagine. He will have to think more about this.
"What sort of fae are we talking about the happy, friendly, dancing together under a waterfall sort, or the snatch your baby in the night and replace it with a monster type? Imon asked, not really looking forward to the answer.
Warren reminds Anwel, "I tried to start a discussion of magic, both natural and arcane, days ago, but you were evasive and didn't want to talk about it. I am curious, what has changed since then? But no, I do not suspect Gozreh of creating the bubble-spouting skull. I did state I consider Gozreh is at the top of the natural pecking order."
As they continue, Warren speaks to the large creature with a compelling voice that seems to be treating the monster as an equal: "You will see some incredible feats of magic from this group. My magic comes from the natural world and the sole keeper of the world and its environs, Gozreh the ancient. He has defeated all who trespass on or threaten his interests, and Rovagug the destroyer has learned to his chagrin not to challenge Gozreh. I would advise you to consider that all of nature is on my side, not just the eagles you see at my command. The dogs I can pluck from the air to chase my enemies down, or the face of the bird of prey I can wear at will all come from Gozreh. If you are looking for a new patron, the raw power of nature is not a bad one to choose in these lands."
Warren looks at the large creature and pats his scimitar. "Of course, the value of a handy scimitar is not be underestimated. If you are looking to find religion out here, I can give it to you."
At Imon's question on the fae, Stellan replies, "Those are not mutually exclusive types, happily frolicking fae can be dark fae as well, but even goodly fae may be so offended that they could do this. After all, it was only a very unpleasant prank, not lethal as it could have been. Even nice fae can be mean or deadly if they feel provoked and fae do not think as humans do."
Stellan looks at Warren a bit wonderingly, "I see, I never took you for a missionary, Servant of Gozreh. I do see things a bit differently than you I suppose but I am bound to an aspect of nature, not to its whole."
"I think you know very well what has changed, Warren," says Anwel. How could he not? The whole group had spent lungfulls upon lungfulls of air discussing how, where, and for what purpose Anwel had been taught his magic since leaving the trading post. "I did not want to talk about magic then because, for me, the question of what magic is is inseparable from the question of how one learns and understands it, and I did not want to delve into that topic at that time. Now..." he shrugs, "matters are different. Some are not," he clarifies. "We have an audience now, as we did then, who should not know of such things. But some are. For better or worse, you and I, we understand each other better now."
That might or might not be true. As the bubble incident demonstrated, Anwel's understanding of his companions is woefully deficient, insufficient to allow him to predict their actions. And Warren sometimes seems to misunderstand Anwel's meaning by choice, though that might be Anwel's frustrations talking. "The question for now, however, is who did put the skull there. It might be Tartuk's agents, attempting to block passage into their realm. It might be fey, like Vrag was talking about, or like we, well, failed to see this morning. Or it might be some third party, whose means and motives are unknown." The one party interested in these lands that Anwel is sure did not place the skull is his mistress. As Stellan pointed out, the effect of destroying it, while debilitating, was not painful, and she would never miss a chance to inflict pain.
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Gorax sniffs the unfamiliar smell of the world around him, in particular his own body. As he does so he sneezes, then again. Unsure of the workings that gave him this ... aroma ... he hankers for his familiar smell of sweat and metal. Still the others noses don't twitch when they come close to him now, they don't find an excuse to move on. Strange the workings of this group, strange the ways of the lords with which he now travels. "I'd like to find whoever put the skull there and teach them a thing or two about being friendly." he scowls at Anwel, as he unsheathes his longsword. "I got a thing or two to teach them. And what are these fae anyway? Didn't know of them back home, I'm sure me mother would have told us of them if they were to be feared?" Gorax continues, his mind an open book of ignorance of the creatures of the world.
"Have a care, Gorax!" says Anwel, not loudly, but insistently. "Remember Stellan's words. We want to make amends, not threats. And remember this morning. There are fey who can move about invisible, who might be following us even now. Do you not recall this morning, when I counseled we should act as though we were being watched?" Suddenly he realizes why the others did not leave him behind. To do so might reflect badly upon them in front of their primordial judges!
"As for what they are..." says Anwel, pausing to better frame his explanation. He examines every bit of jargon in which he is accustomed to think about high theory, and discards most of them. "Some call them nature spirits, but that is not wholly accurate. They are elder creatures, our ancestors but not our begetters. They, and their First World home, were created before mortals and the mortal realm, and we and our world were created, in part, in their and their world's image." The Shadow Plane, the shadow of the mortal realm, is also descended from the First World, but bringing it up would serve only to complicate an already complex topic, so he leaves it be.
"Nonetheless, they are different. That might seem unhelpful, but it is most important to keep in mind. Each fey is different from his fellows, though they might look similar to mortals. What drives one to gracious laughter might drive another, even of the same kin and of long acquaintance, to mad fury. And fey as a whole are different from us. For instance," he says, pausing to let what he has said previously sink in before moving on to truly strange topics, "they have no souls to go before Pharasma when they die. Their bodies merge back into the earth. In their home, the First World, they are reborn eventually." He gives Vrag a sidelong glance, but keeps talking to Gorax. "The Bone Ravens believe in reincarnation; on the First World, for the fey, it has been seen happening. Perhaps that is the origin of such beliefs among mortals. Here, in our world, however, fey are not reborn. Threatening a fey with death on the mortal realm is even weightier than threatening a mortal, and may provoke pre-emptive retaliation. Killing a fey on the mortal realm is an irrevocable act not to be taken lightly." So put that thing away, he thinks, the subtext giving his words weight. "Nor is it to be considered, except at the urgent request of another, friendly fey, who understands the consequences in a way we cannot."
"So they are tremendously powerful, utterly capricious, and universally barking mad? Delightful, that sounds like just what we needed to add to the pile of what we currently face." With that, Imon drew his bow, and took an arrow from the quiver, he figured it would be necessary to keep it close at hand with this new development.
With the conversation turning to the fae overall, Stellan uses message on all the members, two at a time and repeats what he told Andrei and Warren. Speaking more on the current topic, "A more detailed answer than I gave, and somewhat different from what I've learned, I do see at least some fey as nature spirits and have made offerings in the past, though I have nothing now to give." Stellan shruggs and goes on,
"And Imon, that view you gave of the fae is common, just consider that many fae see you exactly that way as well. Not all fae are all that powerful, and they see human numbers and worse our very strange ability to go from weak puppies to terrifingly powerful warriors and wizards in a blink; say twenty or thirty years, nothing to most fae, as tremendously powerful; we seem capracious to them, and we are barking mad, doing things that make no sense to them at all. Trust me Imon, Gorax, and everyone, the fae that watched us with the protection of being unseen, didn't conceal itself just to mess with us, almost certainly it did it that way as much out of fear as anything else, so of course it had to prank us back for our mean prank on them." Stellan smiles a bit, but this time his usual warmth seems replaced by an uncanny chill.
Warren adds: "Well, most fae respect that which many call nature, or the primeval world and its order."
He adds: "Many fae also fear cold iron and fire. Gorax probably scared them with his huge bonfire."
Warren seems keen to make up the time lost earlier. With the goblins released, he continues to walk with the large guide and talks to him:
"So, what do you have planned after we part ways? Any family to return to?"
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The Shadow Plane, the shadow of the mortal realm, is also descended from the First World, but bringing it up would serve only to complicate an already complex topic, so he leaves it be.
Gorax hears all the others comments, they all seem so wise and intelligent to know such detail. That and they are nobles, so it might not all be true. Gorax is quiet and withdrawn, trying his best to take it all in, though in summary his thoughts turn to Warren's words, Gorax can frighten them with fire or use cold iron weapons, but the others want him to go easy on these creatures. I'll let be what is, time to hold back, unless they threaten. He nods to his fellows, "Right my friends, but if they threaten or damage us, I will defend our lives."
"If you must," sighs Anwel. If what Stellan and Warren say is true, then the bubble field had been retaliation for the warrior's burning the goblins, so Anwel considers his debt to the man paid in full. He has an idea for how they might atone for that, but it will have to wait til they make camp. "I think the point, however, is to avoid provoking them to threatening or damaging us." This is essentially the same stance he had taken against the Bone Ravens: that it is better to avoid making any more enemies if at all possible.
The party continues to make its way further into the Narlmarches. The trail follows a winding course through the forest, crossing small streams, cutting through the occasional meadow dotted with a few early spring flowers. The weather has taken a turn for the better and the day actually grows pleasantly warm by the afternoon.
Vrag listens intently to the conversation as the party rides. When Warren asks about his future plans he simply shrugs and says, "It will likely be south for me. I cannot return to the Bone Ravens. At least not without supplies, spoils or warriors. No, it will likely be on to other pastures for me."
The afternoon proceeds without further incident and you are able to travel a good distant. As evening approaches, Vrag points out a small, dry hollow surrounded by a stand of trees. He turns to Warren and points to the shallow clearing saying, "This would be a good place to camp for the night. A few miles further and we will start the slower climb out of the lowlands and into the hills. Your kind will want daylight to show the way."
Over the course of the afternoon, Anwel had renewed the enchantments on himself nine times. It had been easy enough to dye and perfume his own clothing while mounted, but Gorax, despite his height, presented something of a challenge. It had turned out that Anwel could not reach much lower than the man's solar plexus from atop Lairochal. In the interest of their schedule, they had not stopped for him to dismount and scent Gorax properly, so after the first couple hours the man had started smelling of burnt flesh again.
When they stop, Anwel is quick to pull out his sextant and take a reading before the sun slips below where it can be seen. He can just barely see it through the canopy. When that is fihished, Anwel borrows the shovel from Gorax and motions to Vrag. "Jink told me yesterday that your people sometimes buried each other's remains," he says, sinking the shovel into the ground next to the stand of trees, a little way away from the trail, and carving out a divot. "I know it is not ideal, that the practice is usually reserved for the dishonored, but I am sure an exception can be made for circumstances like this. After being burnt and used as a trap, the remains deserve a little respect." He carves out another divot.
"As such, I would appreciate you showing me how to do it properly, what words to say, and so forth." Another divot - the hole is almost wide enough to stand in, though not very deep. "I can try to give him a Sovyrian ceremony, but I suspect neither you nor he would appreciate it." The watching fey might appreciate it, but Anwel thinks they will appreciate showing real respect for the dead more than they would blatant pandering.
Andrei nods to Vrag "Looks like a fine site to me. What is the chance of a bone raven group coming by with the same idea?" looking across to Warren, Stellan and Gorax "In your opinion is this a good site?"
"Has anyone noticed any sign of our fey friend? It occurs to me that we might have a present for it that we could leave out."
Imon looked the site over, deciding that this would make a decent site for a town, if they found water nearby, of course. He imagined it in his head: houses here, a tavern there; logging would obviously be a big industry here. He knew the answer, and that he wouldn't like it, but he decided to ask anyway, "And what, pray tell, do the fae think of settlement?"
Warren looks at the campsite and nods.
"This site is fine, as long as the watch maintains control of the trees. We can settle the horses and camp in the hollow and put lookouts in the trees."
Warren looks around. "Gorax, I think you can set up the camp without using a fire for now. I will bring a patrol around the area and see if we have any neighbors nearby we need to be concerned about."
Stellan checks out the area to see if there are any problems, nearby they should be aware of.
"That sounds good, Warren, I'll check in more detail close by, with your feathered friends the outer patrol should be quick."
Perception: Anything there?
Survival: Is it a good site, any particularly interesting aspect, any interesting tracks?
"I don't see any problem yet, we should set up then, I'll help Gorax." Stellan help make camp with Gorax if he sees and finds nothing wrong.
Imon pops up with an odd comment, clearly following up on the earlier topic of the day. "Well, Imon, it depends, many wouldna' like it any more than you would like a bunch of termites who decided to settle in your house. On the other hand, they could find it amusing or beneficial in some way, just likely not the way you would think. A town full of stiff, humorless, prankable people ... the possiblities are as endless as they are terrifying. So I'd be very careful, but it's not impossible, we just need to keep it in mind."
"I don't see anything, either. Looks like a decent site to me."
Udoeak helps as he can setting up the campsite, offering to take up whatever watch is needed for the night.
Vrag turns to Anwel and growls a simple acknowledgment. "Do what you will with the remains. The goblins have their own rituals which have little significance to me. Afterall, what does it matter? They are little more than fodder in this world, they will be the same in the next. Doesn't make a difference which plane of the abyss they end up in."
The bugbear then looks to Andrei, his yellow eyes peer straight at the bard for a few seconds before his face breaks into a smile as he says, "I pointed the site out, so yes I think it is a good place to camp. As for other Bone Ravens coming through here it is possible...but not likely. I guess you'll just have to trust your gods to keep you safe for the night."
Warren, Stellan, Udoeak and Gorax set up the camp and search the surrounding area. The place appears comfortable enough. Stellan finds a small spring about a dozen paces further into the forest. The water is cool, fresh, and clean. An old fire ring of random stones sits on a patch of sandy soil in the northeast corner of the hollow. As far as anyone can tell, the ring hasn't been used for several months.
Stellan, searching about finds a pool of water and looks down, spying something in the water. "Yo, there is something shiney, I think metal, down in the water." Stellan tries to figure out what it is and how deep it is.
Perception: What is it?
Survival: Any tracks about, pool of water should attract animals?
Stellan says, "Gorax, please keep and eye out, and on me, I'm going to see what that is." If the pool is not deep, Stellan reaches for the item, if it's too deep for that he takes off his pack, jacket and boots, and gentley wades in for it, unless he sees or hears a reason not to.
"It makes a difference to them," mutters Anwel, carving out the last of the miniature grave and resting the shovel against a tree. "And every bit of knowledge denied makes a difference to me," he says, holding up the hand he had whipped. A blister is growing at the base of the thumb despite the relatively short time he had been digging. The white of the accumulating pus mixes sickeningly with the vomit-green bubble dye.
"Although," says Anwel, cupping the skull in his hands and laying it at the bottom of the hole, "I do think this can be made a little more personal than a generic Sovyrian ceremony. This skull, I think, was taken directly from Gorax's pyre." At this pronouncement, Anwel's tone grows more solemn, and his voice smoother and slower, though not much deeper.
"I know not your name," he intones, making up the words as he goes but imbuing them with force worthy of a long-hallowed creed, "or by whose hand you fell. It may have been mine. I do know you were the victim of mistrust and misunderstanding. I know also that you carried on your faithful fight against we who made themselves your people's enemies even beyond death. You are not the first victim of mistrust and misunderstanding. You will not be the last. I pray, however, that you are the last victim of our mistrust and misunderstanding, and if my prayer is answered, that you take solace in that." Anwel repeats this in the languages of the goblins, elves, and fey, in that order, then shoves the earth he had dug over the remains.
When he is finished, he turns back to the others, who have likely been doing useful tasks. He hears Stellan's shout, and wonders what he could have found, but does not believe from the witch's words that he can actually help. Instead, he takes a cake of hardtack out of his pack and begins running his fingers over it, impregnating it with the taste of date, pistachio, hazelnut and rosewater, a taste he remembers from his brief time in Cassomir.
With the water up to your waste you reach down into the water and grab what is actually a necklace. Made of gold, the piece is well made and of an intricate design common to Brevoy about a decade prior to the vanishing. The center stones of the necklace are a triad of purple amythyst surrounding a larger round, polished blue fluorite.
Stellan says, "Gorax, please keep and eye out, and on me, I'm going to see what that is." If the pool is not deep, Stellan reaches for the item, if it's too deep for that he takes off his pack, jacket and boots, and wade gentley wades in for it, unless he sees or hears a reason not to.
Stellan walks out of the cold spring water saying, "Got a necklace here, appears gold, expensive and maybe Brevic as well? Wonder if it has any other properties? Has anyone have some mystic sight to tell if it's magic, prepared?"
Stellan dries himself off as well as possible and dresses back up.
Stellan will hand the necklace to anyone who answers or asks. Its appearance is: Made of gold, the piece is well made and of an intricate design common to Brevoy about a decade prior to the vanishing. The center stones of the necklace are a triad of purple amythyst surrounding a larger round, polished blue fluorite.
DM I couldn't tell from your discription if Stellan is just used to cold or if that is how you're interpreting his protection from cold due to the continuous Endure Elements(cold only) spell-like ability he has from his Winter Archetype.
Andrei smiles at stellan "I always have." He looks carefully at the necklace before casting detect magic. "Designs like this were fashionable a while back. it was probably made 10 to 20 years ago."
Anwel looks up from his little culinary project and spies the glint of gold. "If it has no magical, historical, or personal value," he muses, "it might make a decent tribute to the fey." He sighs, and shakes his head a little. He will miss the opportunity to pay Oleg back for the sextant if they do gift the necklace to their invisible judges, but the greater priority is clear.
Warren returns and sees Anwel, Stellan and Andrei looking over a necklace. He motions to Imon, Gorax, Tams, and Vrag, "I found an overgrown cabin, come with me to check it out."
I think five of us can investigate a cabin.
You both also notice an inscription on the back of the center setting that reads in common, "To Nadia. What was stolen will be restored."
DM I couldn't tell from your discription if Stellan is just used to cold or if that is how you're interpreting his protection from cold due to the continuous Endure Elements(cold only) spell-like ability he has from his Winter Archetype.
When Warren demands that Vrag go along to investigate the cabin, the bugbear shakes his head. "Everyone knows that place is haunted by something. As long as we stay within the camp we are safe. But I will not have anything to do with that ruin."
Knowledge, nature: How would the fey react to such a gift? How would they credit it?
Stellan says, "Perhaps, some fey like such things, others have no use for it. If we knew a little more ... but I'm not sure who we are dealing with. But I have no use for it otherwise, except for its obvious value in coin."
"Ok, Warren, we'll stay and watch this camp. Give a yell if you need us."
"OK, we'll leave him behind. Imon, you can do that message magic?"
Yeah, we'll watch it. Hopefully, you won't need us.
Imon nodded, "I can," He added, as he gathered his bow. He considered offering to 'convince' Vrag to come along, but he couldn't bring himself to. In truth, he didn't want the beast along with them, watching, waiting, hoping for the chance to slit their throats and run back to his masters. Imon wanted no part of that.
"Let's go."
"If you really want to go alone," says Anwel, looking up from the necklace, "then feel free. We will answer if you call. Oh, and do not think, Vrag," he continues, his eyes flicking toward the bugbear, "that with Warren and Imon gone you will have some sort of opportunity. We who remain are not less vigilant.
"As for this find," he says, indicating the necklace with a wave of his hand but not taking his eyes of Vrag, "it's shiny, and with some fey that can count for a lot. Gold can serve as a powerful spell component for those fey that use magic. More mundanely, it would fetch more than two hundred and fifty crowns in a place like Restov. Less all the way out here, unless this inscription means anything to anyone." He points out the engraved message "To Nadia. What was stolen will be restored." "That sounds like the motto of a Brevic noble house to me, though I know not which one."
Andrei seems in shock as reads the inscription until Stellan and Anwel words of giving to the fey. "It is the motto of House Avotrus. What it doing here is mystry howeverand which Nadia it dedicated to. We aren't giving away just now." Andrei takes a look to check that Gorax isn't in listening before continuing "I was thinking it might likw some alcohol of particularly high quality."
"Ah, it has personal value then," says Anwel, digesting this new information. Andrei belongs to a dispossessed House, which had never accepted its dispossession. An excellent reason to seek out an accept the Swordlords' offer of living space in the Stolen Lands. Should more Brevic citizens move to the colony, it could make a very good springboard from which to lay claim to other, more ancestral lands within Brevoy. "In that case, there remains only one choice what to do with it," he says with a smile. "Do you plan on wearing it openly, or carrying it around?
"And perhaps it might," says Anwel, lowering his voice to match Andrei's, "though there will be hell to pay with the Stag Lord if he ever finds out we bought more than we gave him," he adds, reminding Andrei of their ruse. "I have been modifying one of my rations to have the flavor of a Taldane or Kelish sweetmeat," he says, breaking off a small corner for one of them to try. "I will have to stay awake all night to maintain the enchantment, but as long as everyone contributes we should be able to muster a fairly large spread of food to go with the drink."
"It is not mine and I have nothing to pay for it, I would request that Stellan hangs on to it until I can. It is a puzzle I'd like to solve, we do not tell many our motto."
"I think it would be better to trick the staglord with tastes and smells than the fey."
Approaching the cabin with caution from the west you can see that the furthest wall along with the one running north have collapsed completely. A portion of the nearest wall still stands to just above waist height, but it is mostly overgrown with a variety of vines and shrubs. The former chimney in the south is the only thing still remotely close to standing although it is leaning at a noticeable angle and a good foot or two has already fallen from the top. A bit of the former roof still covers the interior in the southwest corner near your approach. What looks like the doorway is just a few steps ahead through the vines and partial wall.
"I think these fae are small and wild, less interested in this large piece, hard to tell though."
"That's interesting, Andrei, I wonder how it came to be here, I suppose it could have come downstream from higher in the hills, there is the nearby cabin, but if standing its's too recent." Stellan seems about to go off on his deep and distant thinking then snaps back at Andrei's second statement.
"Well, I could hold it, Andrei but I have no more claim than anyone else. Since it's more personal for you, why don't you hold i? In time you may gain the funds to recompense any that care, and for that matter I don't care about its value, coin means little to me." Stellan ruffles Vinur's fur, hands Andrei the necklace.
After Andrei accepts or rejects the necklace, Stellan trails a bit to the outer edge of the camp to see the other group. "Anwel, could you come to this edge of the camp? I could go forward a bit, and between you, Imon, and I we could keep in touch. Just to be safe."
If Anwel comes, Stellan and Vinur trot forward partways, to within message range of Anwel and Imon while standing between them, if possible. Stellan, as always, keeps a wary eye out for trouble and tracks.
Perception:
Survival: