”Erastil doesn’t care much for bandits, either, but they seemed to have been forced to attack us. So eh. Nadya, thanks for skinning that wolf. Might be that I’ll end up wearing it - I can’t smell worse!” Orik chuckles.
Orik also examines the potions and the two new items.
”Remember, we gotta come back here in a few weeks to cleanse this place.”
As she runs her fingers through the pelt, a flash of sensation hits Yrja. The same fur, or very similar, only she's burying her face in it, seeking a teat. Her little snout latches on one and she sucks greedily, her clawed front paws kneading the thick furred skin in front of her. Her litter mates jostle her and warm milk spills from her mouth to trickle down and splash on the cold, hard ground. The source of food and safety shifts, and the teat slips out of her mouth entirely. She whines at the loss of it, but it trails off as she senses the sudden tension.
The other see the young witch draw her hand back sharply from the pelt and blink rapidly several times.
As Dez comes back with his find, she seems glad for the distraction and concentrates on the objects.
The belt is revealed to be a Bladed Belt.
The ring is a Ring of Feather Falling.
"I think we can make it to Ellsprin tomorrow, in the morning, even, if we press on a bit more today," says Nadya. She smiles tenderly at Orm and Mjoli.
"Mama, I want to come back when Orik helps the ghost children," says Orm. Mjoli nods somberly. It's been a difficult week for the kids; they've been warned of the danger outside of towns in Irrisen, but to see it for themselves, even huddled in a dogsled, is something else entirely.
Nadya's answer is to embrace them both wordlessly.
Orik nods at Orm, "I won't promise that you'll be able to, but I'll try." He packs up his stuff, and pets Sasha behind the ears. Orik starts making a map of Irrisen using his knowledge of geography in general, to remember where this church is at least, relative to Ellsprin and their further destinations. "I'm ready to go, nothing else I need to do here for now."
Your evening passes, mercifully, without incident. Chiquq and Aitut spend some time bonding and learning animal tricks outside the circle of the campfire. Nadya finds a few arctic hares for a sumptuous supplement to your rations, and she amuses the children by trying the rimepelt on and snarling at them, although it's clear she doesn't want to wear it for long. She and the children are clearly excited to get to Ellsprin. For Orm and Mjoli, it means safety at Nadya's cousin's place; for Nadya it means she can continue the journey to Whitethrone without worrying about her two remaining children.
Yrja's travel-magic speeds your journey along, and just a few hours after a warm breakfast. Orm and Mjoli barely remember their cousin Lyubava; she's a hunter and trader herself, although in a different environs than Nadya. Lyubava and her husband are usually off on the ice of Glacier Lake, braving the many hostile denizens for the rich bounty of water life to be found beneath the unpredictable ice. This doesn't stop Orm and Mjoli from chattering excitedly, and Nadya nodding and smiling and answering their endless questions.
You soon come to the outskirts of the small village, which is surrounded by large, austere farms suited for winter wheat and snowberries, arctic peas, and still other crops that have to be covered all year round.
Nadya's face goes from a smile to a frown suddenly.
"There's something there. That's the Truskin house."
You follow her gaze to the nearest farmhouse. It sits partially surrounded by a small grove of trees and hardy shrubs, far from the other houses in the village. A thin column of smoke rises from the chimney, but there is no other sign of life from within, and the window shutters are pulled closed.
Fifteen feet in front of the homestead, a humanoid shape lies facedown—the snow around it is dyed red with blood. Nadya draws her bow and nocks an arrow as a reflex.
Dez -- who for the time being has added the bladed belt to his ensemble, and it does go well with his trademark long coat -- responds to Nadya's alarm and draws and nocks his own bow and arrow. He will accompany Nadya in the approach to the body, imagining (albeit intellectually, rather than emotionally) Nadya's sense of dread.
Orik squints at the humanoid, "that one of the Truskins, then? Or is it their style to leave corpses out for display?"
Orik watches their back, greatsword drawn, looking for enemies while his companions inspect the corpse.
"Oh no, do you think they were attacked? Quick, maybe some of them are still alive!" Yrja's hand flies to her mouth at the sight of the body. Even after all these weeks and months, with all the carnage she's seen, her heart is not inured to the presence of death.
"Pufos, dear, go see if there's anyone still moving in that house over there." she whispers to her bat as she pulls the creature from inside of her coat. The bat doesn't seem entirely happy to be flying in daylight, but flitters obediently towards the farmhouse.
Nadya stays back, her body language causing Dez to do the same.
Pufos swoops over the farmhouse and returns to Yrja in a matter of seconds.
Pufos' nervous excitement indicates he has seen something in the house...but also...something outside the house. Of course, you have no idea what either thing is, but it feels like a mix of hope and dread.
"There are definitely living and moving things, both inside and outside the house. I don't know if they are friendly or not, but I feel that we should go look as soon as possible." The bat's nervous excitement seems to have been transferred to the young witch, who fidgets in place and cranes her neck futilely to try and distinguish more about the environs. Pufos slinks back inside the protective cloak.
Dezső looks closely to try to figure out what's going on:
Dez can see tracks in the snow near the hut that abruptly stop. From this distance he can't tell what they are, but they aren't snowshoes or boots.
"See those tracks that abruptly stop? Something isn't right. I guess we need to investigate, but be ready for trouble."
He'll wait another moment to see if others have suggestions on how to proceed.
"Witchcraft?" Ogon asks, he isn't exactly subtle but takes his place at the front of the group without further comment.
Given how close they are, Dezső puts away his bow and starts to circle the hut to the left, drawing his rapier as he moves and carefully watching for signs of movement or activity. He's trying to get in a possible flanking position with any foe.
Orik nods at Dez, "Goin' in, cover me bud."
Orik quickly casts a spell, then draws his greatsword as he moves into the Truskin courtyard. At the end of his path, he is infused again with plant power, and appears to grow, quickly encompassing much of the courtyard with his bulk and reach. He sniffs where the tracks stop.
Yrja stays put, fidgeting nervously. The unusual tracks intrigue her, and she starts running through the possibilities to distract her self from the bloody corpse lying a few feet away.
Humanoids, but ones that don't wear boots or snowshoes?
Animals would not have come this close to a house on their own, and they would have fed on the corpse.
Some creation or servant of the winter witches? Why would they attack these people?
Ogon joins Orik, his flaming blade flickering in and out existence as he glowers at the ground.
As a mighty Orik balloons into shape in the snow, a woman calls out from the hut.
"There are two of them in the yard, hiding! Help us!"
Nadya curses. "That's Goodwife Truskin!"
She nocks an arrow, ready to shoot at anything that moves, present company excluded.
Ogon does indeed enter the yard, his flaming sword flaring into full life as his shield is lifted to cover his weaker side.
At the end of the tracks, a shimmer in the air appears, then, in a blink, a short, elfin looking man stands, wearing drab clothing and a foul grin. He has the blue tinges of the vetr-taka, and wears no shoes at all, standing on the toe tips of elongated, swift looking feet.
A crackling in the gorse signals his ally: a tiny humanoid made of sticks and vines. You cannot discern a face, but its posture is hunched and menacing.
Round 1--Hazards at the Hut!
Yrja
Chiquq
Ogon
Fey 1
Fey 2
Dez
Orik
That is a quickling. Nasty, fast thing.
That's a twigjack. Beware, they can teleport from bush to bush.
"What do I kill?" Ogon asks, looking from one fey figure to another.
"Careful! The one with the big feet is quickling, nasty and fast. The tiny one is a twigjack, it can teleport from bush to bush."
Quicklings are so fast that when they are moving, they are blurred and hard to hit, and evasive as well.
Twigjacks can spray brambles and splintery thorns...and are vulnerable to fire.
"Ogon, if you can reach it, go after the tiny one. It REALLY won't like you!"
: "The one with the big feet is going to be hard to hit while it's moving, but maybe we can surround it."
"What are you doing here?" asks Yrja in Sylvan as she prepares to attempt and incapacitate the quickling.
Orik grunts affirmatively, holding his greatsword out in preparation for being attacked.
Ogon barrels forwards through the snow, his flaming sword blazing in his hand as he is finally given a target.
Chiquq casts Faerie Fire at the quickling, limning it with lime green outlines. It snarls. "Disgusting humans and your ilk. You've laid your droppings all over this Second World. Grandmother Winter will cleanse your kind."
A tiny canyon of twigs and sticks opens in the twigjack's face as it laughs at Ogon. "Stupid goblin-kin, clumsy and slow."
The quickling darts like a blur at Orik, something gleaming and sharp in its hand. You can barely see it as it rushes through the snowy yard.
The line of gleaming blue steel barely scratches the half-orc, but Orik feels the bitter touch of cold as the winter-touched fey leaves its mark.
The twigjack seems to inhale and then releases a blinding spray of thorns and brambles, shooting out to pelt Ogon and Dez.
Yrja's hex seems to slide right off the contemptuous fey. "False witch," it twitters.
The twigjack snaps its 'fingers' with an audible crack and disappears.
Round 1--Hazards at the Hut!
Yrja
Chiquq
Ogon -9 or -4 hp
Quickling, Faerie Fire
Twigjack, whereabouts unknown
Dez -9 or -4 hp
Orik, -6 HP
Dez and Orik are up!
Orik grunts again at the blow, reeling for a bit. He shrinks to regular size and casts another spell, imbuing his friends with Erastil’s Favor
Negative Effects: Staggered
HP: 27/33
AC: 20 (Base 18, plus barkskin)
Spells Memorized
2nd—burst of radiance (DC 16), burst of radiance (DC 16)
. . 1st— divine favor, shield of faith
. . 0 (at will)—create water, detect magic, guidance, mending
Dez partially dodges the thorns and then moves into the yard and attacks the quickling.
Orik's aim is deadly, but not deadly enough. The thrust of his greatsword fails to connect with the wily quickling.
Dez also misses the fey, whose form blurs and re-forms constantly.
Round 2--Hazards at the Hut!
Yrja
Chiquq
Ogon -4 hp
Quickling, Faerie Fire
Twigjack, whereabouts unknown
Dez -4 hp
Orik, -6 HP
Chiquq moves forward quietly on her snowshoes, bow ready. She shoots at the quickling.
Her arrow fails to hit its mark! The shaft buries itself almost to the fletching just inches from Dezső's shoulder.
Yrja and Ogon are up!
"Show yourself!" Yrja calls out as she makes a gesture, and a cloud of golden sparkles takes form between herself, Dez, Orik and Ogon.
As Yrja covers the ground in glitter Ogon briefly ducks behind his shield to deflect the worst of the shards and then hurries forwards to strike at the fey Dezso is duelling.
With a noise like a puff of wind, the glitter drops down to the snow, failing to reveal any opponents in the area.
The quickling smirks as Ogon's strike misses. "Goblin-kin, goblin-kin, stinking like a gutter-bin," he chirps, practically clicking his heels together.
The quickling prepares to strike at Ogon, then pauses, twitching, one eyebrow raised.
From the snow-sodden brush, the twigjack reappears, crackling and muttering to itself. Its sharp thorn claws manage to get Dez in a vital spot, drawing blood!
The quickling then jabs at Ogon, misses, shrugs, and zips away, laughing. "You fools are far too slow! Idiot humanlings!"
Round 2--Hazards at the Hut!
Yrja
Chiquq
Ogon -4 hp
Quickling, Faerie Fire
Twigjack
Dez -15 hp
Orik, -6 HP
Dez and Orik are up!
Grunting again, unhappily, Orik approaches the quickling and attempts to pummel it, after embiggening himself, and stomping over.
Dez grabs at his side in alarm and surprise but quickly recovers and strikes at the twigjack with his rapier.
But the shock from his recent injury causes his aim to be way off.
He also takes out a tanglefoot bag, trying to do it discreetly and keep it hidden under his coat.
Pointing at the twigjack: "Ogon, can you help with this horrid creature?"