Suffering from a minor wound, Droguk accepts the healing offer.
Noticing the body, "Be wary. There is a dead one over there under the tree. It could be a trap."
Droguk moves closer to the dead man, looking for signs of a trap as he nears to examine it.
As you approach the corpse you can see that it's a human male dressed in much the same kind of clothing you saw the villagers and farmers of Heldron wearing. A bow is slung across his back an you can see a handaxe hung from his belt. The snow covering him makes it difficult to see much more without searching him.
In addition to the trail you've been following you can see, what you would assume to be the mans, tracks leading off the trail and to the body as well as some odd serpentine tracks that head to the body and then return to the river.
"There are tracks leading to the dead man, as well as snake-like tracks that head toward him and then back to the river. Odd. I still do not trust it." He looks around, wondering if the snake-like creature may be near.
Cyrus approaches the tracks with Droguk, examining them closely to see if he can determine exactly what sort of creature may have made them.
Looking more closely at the tracks you realize that they match the trails left by the icy creatures you just fought as they moved to attack your party.
"It seems that this poor fellow encountered those ice-beings before we did...only he was less capable of dealing with them." he tells the rest of the group, searching the body.
Droguk keeps a wary eye out as the ranger examines the dead man.
Stepping up to the body you're saddened, though perhaps not surprised, that you recognize the man. "Old Man Dansby" as he was know in town was a soldier turned farmer. Gruff but reliable he was well respected in town and known to any who spent time there.
The gear he carries is well cared for and functional as you might expect of a man who first survived by his weapons and then on his tools. He carries a Composite Longbow with a dozen arrows, a dagger, a handaxe of excellent make and a pouch of coins .
Finished poking at the ice Kogar approaches and then stops short. Recognition dawns on his face and he runs over to the body clearly distressed. "Dansbury!" he calls out as he drops down next to the mans corpse. His muscular bulk shoves you to the side as he crowds in and cradles the mans head and shoulders in his arms.
"It appears the ice creatures got to him. I knew of this man but did not know him well. He was a true warrior of the town by accounts. Gather his things. We will be sure to return them to any family he might have had when we return. Pay your respects, then, we must move." Droguk stares ahead into the snowy land, wondering what other surprises await them.
When the group is ready to move out, Droguk leads on.
Cyrus looks back to Droguk, then to the equipment Dansbury was carrying. after seeing Kogar's reaction to the man's body, a whisper of guilt crosses his features at having considered anything but returning the man's possessions to his family.
"I'm not certain that Kogar is ready to move ahead just yet." he remarks, taking a few steps backward from the ice-giant to give him a bit of privacy.
After a few moments Kogar slowly stands. He gently places the farmers body down and arranges it respectfully before stepping away and, with a last look, moving to follow Droguk.
Droguk looks to the ranger before turning his attention back to Kogar. As the half-giant readies to leave, Droguk continues on their trek.
Kobad appreciates the healing with a nod but discovers that it did nothing to fight off his fatigue or the cold penetrating his bones.
He looks to find something flammable and casting spark to ignite it to make another makeshift portable heater. he silently trudges on muttering about wishing he was back home by a real hearth or the heat of a forge again.
With your adversaries defeated and your wounds healed by the blessings of Desna you push on into the snow. Your recent victories lift your spirits but their effect is tainted by the fallen townsfolk you found. His loss reenforces the feeling that this is no simple adventure for gold and glory. You carry the weight of Heldrens and perhaps the entire regions safety on your shoulders. Gathering your resolve you continue step by step through the deep and fridged snow.
Droguk :
Nelosse :
Kobad :
Kogar:
Cyrus:
Featherfoot :
Non-lethal Damage :
Kobad : Now exhausted and staggered
Cyrus : Now fatigued
The march forward is a monotonous repetition of draining step after step. As you make your way another hour or so you find that the trail begins to climb a ridge line south beneath snow laden trees. As ever the trail of boots and horse tracks guides you through the woodland. Taking a moment to catch your breath you find that Kobad has fallen a good many steps behind, huddled about a weakly burning flame that is fighting valiently against the wind. His fingers and nose are white and his gaze seems far off and unfocused. Half stumbling forward it seems that it is by will alone that he continues to plod along. Cyrus also seems to finally be succumbing to the chill conditions. As with Kobad his exposed skin is a frightful shade of white and his usual confident stride has become labored and slowed.
Droguk :
Nelosse :
Kobad :
Kogar:
Cyrus:
?:
Once your beleaguered companions catch up Nelosse and Kobads attention is captured by something ahead on the trail. Though at first difficult to make out the wind carries voices to you. Focusing in that direction you can make out three men hunched over something on the ground. You can't make out their conversation but they seem to be discussing something with a fair amount of spirit. The distraction seems to have so far kept them from noticing your presence.
Noticing the sorcerer falling farther and farther behind, Droguk moves to aid him. Pulling off his furs, "The cold knows no ally. Put these on. They will help but hypothermia is setting in. Time is also no ally of ours." Droguk does not wait for him to respond as he voluntarily puts the furs on him. "We need to find shelter. The fire-born is going to die. It may not be long before the rest of us do as well." He looks over the others, noticing the ranger is now showing signs of falling victim to the cold.
As they move along, they catch sight of the three men. "Prepare your weapons. Let's make this quick. I tire of these interruptions." He resheathes his axe and grabs the newly acquired sword. Barring one of the other party members halting him for some reason, Droguk moves toward the unknown group.
The cold wind finally begins to cut through the layers of protection that Cyrus is wearing; despite his time spent in the wilderness, this unseasonal cold would eventually take it's toll on anyone.
"Though I hate admitting it, Droguk is right. This chill is something I've never had to face in any significant way. We have to find someplace to rest and recover our strength."
At sighting the three men, Cyrus releases a sigh, his breath condensing in the air in front of him. "I'm with you. I tire of these interruptions. Still, let us not be the aggressors. Keep weapons down as we move forward. It may be that we can help each other." he answers. Keeping his falchion in hand, but lowered to his side so as to appear as non-threatening as possible, Cyrus advances with Droguk.
the only response Kobad can manage is a nod.
he wraps the furs tightly around himself. trying to keep as warm as possible.
he knows that to stop moving is to die. Kobad slowly just trudges around the group as they discuss their options.
If they have ways to deal with the blasted cold lets get moving and see what we can do to share in it. his voice very weak stuttering in the cold. his movements very slow.
it is apparent that if his spells are needed he would not be able to assist.
Nelossë will call upon Shelyn's power to try and remove the bite of the cold from her allies, but the magic doesn't seem to be as effective as the previous occasion. Muttering various imprecations in Skald, Nelossë draws her glaive and mimes using it as a walking stick as they approach the camp.
Droguk nods as he makes his way toward the strangers, the grip on his sword tightening just a bit. As he nears the three, "Hail. We do not wish to battle you but if we must then we will kill you," he states as a matter of fact. Droguk then attempts to get a look at what has them so occupied. "What is it that has your attention?"
When Droguk calls out all three of the men nearly jump out of their skins. You note that all of their hands go to the short swords sheathed at their hips though they stop short of drawing them once they see you and the weapons in your hands. Between them you note a small fire that they were huddled over.
Their glances jump between your group and each other. Finally one speaks, "Just a fire there, nothing of concern. More than a bit of chill in the air, ya catch my meaning. You all...err..what are you all doing so far out`n the woods?"
"We are on a hunt. But we have some that are suffering from the cold. I would ask to share of your fire. We shall trouble you for nothing more."
Their initial surprise fading the men regain a bit of composure. The one who started speaking takes his hand off his sword and waves to his fellows to do the same.
"Oh..um..ya...ya that would be fine. Come on over and warm yourselves. We `unters need ta be watching out for each other after all right?" The three move to give you room to approach and one of them throws a bit more wood on the fire.
"Had any luck? This damned cold has sure made a mess of things."
Cyrus gives a snort as he approaches the fire, being careful to let Kobad closest to the warmth of the flames. "If you consider it lucky to be attacked by things that have no business being in Taldor, we've got luck enough to spare. This weather is ridiculous. We appreciate you sharing your fire with us."
"Thank you very much for sharing your fire with us. Our day has been rather eventful. Blessings be upon you." She murmurs a small prayer for the men before fully entering their campsite. As Nelossë moves to join them at the fire, she'll take in as much as she can about their encampment, and about the men themselves. "What has you out here during this unseasonable weather?"
"No right being in Taldor? Oh aye you must mean them blue fey. Eh, he turns his head and spits "they're a foul lot ar'ight. So what are you all huntin'. Seem a bit of an odd lot ya don't mind me sayin'" When Nelosse offers her blessing and follows with her question the man seems a bit taken off guard, "Huh? Oh us..ya...we were...hunters too. Aye...hunters."
The man seems a bit unsure of his words which makes you a bit suspicious. Also as he starts fumbling you think you catch a look of disappointment pass between the other two.
Kobad eventually makes his way to the fire. wrapped in furs and nearly frostbitten. frozen snot hanging from his nose.
he takes in the warmth of the flame as small as it is. he then makes a quick motion with his hand and the fire flares up a bit
Thank you is all he can get out in his exhausted state.
Cyrus eyes the men surreptitiously, curious as to why they seem so taken aback by the simple question.
The men all jump as Kobad causes the flames to leap up for a few moments.
"Sodding wizard." one of them mutters. Before the other shushes him.
[b]"Sorry my friend is a bit jumpy around magic." the talkative one says quickly with an uncomfortable chuckle.
"No right being in Taldor? Oh aye you must mean them blue fey. Eh, he turns his head and spits "they're a foul lot ar'ight. So what are you all huntin'. Seem a bit of an odd lot ya don't mind me sayin'" When Nelosse offers her blessing and follows with her question the man seems a bit taken off guard, "Huh? Oh us..ya...we were...hunters too. Aye...hunters."
"Odd? We all have our reasons as to why we hunt the Irrisen demons. As the woman priestess asked: What is your purpose out here? Do you hunt the demons as well?" He eyes them curiously, his inborn lack of trust highly active. Unable to pick up on anything, he remains wary of the strangers.
"Demons! Oiy no sir not us. The local wildlife is more than enough for simple folk like us. We stay well clear of them fey and their nasty tricks you can believe that!" he says holding up his hands for emphasis.
"Eh speakin' o'which, Marik why don't ya go be SEEIN' about our traps. Any luck we GOT SOMETHIN' worth TELLIN' about. `Ear me?"
The man identified as Marik stands seemingly baffled by his companions request despite the many head nods and thrusts the speakers is giving him.
As the dumbfounded man continues to stand there the speaker gives an exasperated huff and says, [b]"I says GO and check on them traps. I'm sure it'll be a good story TELLIN' `BOUT WHAT you done FOUND!". The statement is accompanied by by energetic hand waves and arm motions none of which seem to help the poor fellow past his confusion.
Finally in a fit of anger the man shout, "Oh sod this! Run and tell the boss we got company ya block headed oaf!" and draws his sword. When his attention returns to the party he seems a bit surprised to find that you're all ready for combat.
Droguk :
Nelosse :
Kobad :
Kogar:
Cyrus:
Featherfoot :
Marik :
Speaker :
Other :
Despite his severely exhausted state Kobad does manage to attempt something useful.
with a quick motion the fire flares up once more but this time it has a much more profound effect as the light of the flame seems to concentrate on the apparent leader (the speaker)
Nelossë steps backward, giving herself room to maneuver and to bring her glaive to bear, ready to strike if any of them move to attack.
If possible, Cyrus will move to cut off their escape route in the direction the leader was indicating with his head-tilts. If not, he moves in as straight a line as possible to cut off the guy being given those instructions.
The fire flares again at Kobads command but after the last display the groups leader seems ready for it. Using the room she has Nelosse strikes as the nearest of the bandits while Cyrus circles around the back.
Behind you Kogar summons up a chunk of ice.
His lack of trust being justified, Droguk brings his sword up in an attempt to cut the traitor in half.
As the fire flares up, Nelossë swings her glaive at one of the attacking bandits, pushing him toward Cyrus.
The men manage to twist out of the way of Droguk and Nelosses attacks. Now weapons in hand they face the party.
Kogar takes aim and heaves a chunk of ice at the bandits apparent leader.
The throw goes wide in the swirl of battle.
Kobad shuffles back a step to try and give himself some room as he concentrates on his opponents weapon specfically the one guy right next to him (initally).
and within an instant his weapon glows a searing red like it was just pulled from the forge. searing into the weilder's hand.
Cyrus shouts a battle cry, turning his falchion against Marik, bringing the razor sharp-blade down in a diagonal slash from his shoulder to his hip.
The most talkative of the groups sword glows bright red and a searing can be heard as the flesh of his hand is burned by the suddenly blistering steel. Screaming he drops the blade to the ground.
Meanwhile before Marik can even compose himself Cyrus cuts him from shoulder to hip killing the man instantly. His body falls to the ground and turns the snow red with his blood..
Putting herself within striking range of the remaining armed, standing bandit, Nelossë slashes down with her glaive, aiming to open the man from nipple to groin.
Then, turning to the remaining bandit(s?), she'll shout, "Yield, and you may live. Fight, and your odds of survival seem unlikely."
The clerics deft movements eviscerate a second man sending him to join his fellow in the afterlife. The third, still clutching his burned hand, looks about frantically. His eyes dart between his two dead companions and the group that so easily dispatched them without so much as a return strike. Choosing pragmatism over valor he falls to his knees and says, "Please...look I didn't...just don't kill me ok? I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Worried about those fey right? I hate em too!"
Droguk moves near the man, "Why did you attack?! Do you work for the Irrisen demons?! ANSWER!!! I shall swiftly remove your head if I do not like what you have to say!" Droguk vows as his grip tightens upon his sword.
The man cowers a bit at Droguks aggression. "I don't know anything about demons. We're part of Rohkars gang. He left us here to make sure nobody followed his trail up to the lodge."