"Here, have an elixir, they are the least useful to save for combat after all."
"Hmmm, stopped bleeding, but still a bad bruise...must have been a weak batch..."
"That, or an especially nasty trap," Droviz growls. "If that bastard who littered them about hadn't had his throat ripped out by a weasel already, I'd be kicking his arse up and down this bloody forest!"
While he rubs his still somewhat sore leg, Droviz eyes the hut suspiciously.
"Something's odd here," he says. "My hackles are rising, not that you'd be able to see. Feels like I just walked into a cave with bones littered on the floor and no killer in sight..."
Droviz steps forward and activates Detect Magic. He feels the presence of a magical aura to the south.
You see a shivering young Ulfen girl who suddenly appears amid the ice boulders. She says, “I’m sorry! Don’t hurt me! I never meant to call you names!”
Droviz' hands fly to the hilts of his blades, but he holds off on drawing -- for now.
"Is it possible you've got us confused with someone else, luv?" he asks. "Look at you, all done in with cold! You need yerself a warm fire and a hot drink, if I'm any judge."
"We ARE a rather unusual grouping young lady, if you look close at us I think you will find that you more than likely have never seen us before."
Ragnar, seeing the Ulfen girl, immediately moves forward to try to help her.
The girl pauses for a moment thoughtfully, and says, "Maybe I am confused..." she gives a blank stare for a moment, and then disappears.
A moment later she reappears a few steps away. "Please don’t keep me here. It’s so cold. I miss my mother.” The girl appears to be extremely frightened still.
"... Ah," Droviz says. "Um. I uh, think this might be a uh, spiritual matter. Might be a good idea to check for magic an' all."
Elen casts detect magic as well and studies the aura.
The big man kneels near the spirit.
"How can we help you, little one?" Ragnar says in heavily accented voice. He is clearly struggling with this modern tongue, but putting more effort into speaking it than he has ever shown before.
"If we can keep the girl warm a little longer, I can make an elixir for her to chase the cold from her bones."
Looking up at the sky, The Tengu ponders for a moment.
"I will need about 15 minutes."
Elen stands next to Droviz, trying to figure out whether this is some sort of trap.
Rummaging through his purses and packs, the Tengu mutters to himself for a moment before holding out a small glass phial, a gentle wisp of mist coming from the top.
"There we are, when you do not have a proper laboratory, it is amazing how quickly one can make do with less.
Drink this young lady, you will be protected by the cold.
Ah, but here, The professor holds out a small handful of dried berries, best eat these after, to take away the taste."
The girl seems to ignore Ragnar's question, but looks to Krystae, hesitates, and then says, "I said something that wasn't very nice to Nazhena..."
As Havelock holds out the phial, the girl disappears, and reappears a few feet away. “I don’t want your stupid doll! I want to go home! Take me back!”
"I'm gonna go out on a limb, here," Droviz says, "but I think the girl might be... other than alive. That, or under some really bad curse. Maybe even both."
Havelock Is at first more surprised about his elixir being referred to as a "doll" than the disappearing act, but the cogs in his brain clicks into place a moment later.
"You know, I believe it is possible she is another fey creature."
"Or a ghost."
She blinks out of existence again, reappearing a few feet away. “I have to get away! And you should, too, before they see you. Run!”
Krystae senses an aura of necromancy coming from the marked area.
"Maybe we should do as she says, this could be a trap. There's dark magic there where she appears."
While the others seem more intent on the girl, Havelock decides to be more practical and draws his blade while looking around for whatever it may be that this strange "girl" is warning them about.
Suddenly the skin on the girl's face melts away, and the image of her skeletal face and look of terror is reflected over and over upon the ice blocks all around you.
You see these disturbing images but recognize them for what they are, figments of the past.
You are deeply disturbed by what you have seen. You have an 80% chance of fleeing, and a 20% chance of being paralyzed by the despair you feel and just cowering where you are. You feel hopeless, and cold.
"... Right, then," Droviz says. He glances at Elen. "Which type of sword works against that? Cold iron, silver or steel?"
"None, my dear, none at all. 'Tis a haunt, an echo of the tragic past. I fear we may not be able to do anything. Let's help our friends who have been affected. "
-Posted with Wayfinder
Ragnar backed away with wide eyes and an open mouth. It was not fear that drove him, though. These sights of horror were normal to him.
It was empathy. He felt the girls pain and suffering. The things which had driven her to this terrible circumstance.
It was too much for him. Too real. backed away until he tripped into a snow drift, shaking his head and crying.
Oh...oh dear...oh no...oh my...
Rooted to the spot, tears begins to well up into the Tengus eyes.
"So," Droviz says. "A tragic past. A death. A girl who was taken from her home, and her haunt is hanging around here." The Dark Elf's eyes turn to the eerie-looking hut. "My gut says we need to do something about that hut," he says. "Let's shake the others awake and go for it."
Putting deed to word, Droviz marches forward, grabs Havelock by the shoulders and gently shakes him.
"Wakey-wakey, Doc Crow. Time to go resolve the past."
"Agreed. Krystae... Ragnar... Havelock, back with us now?"
Elen will help Ragnar up if needed, and go to Havelock and give him a hug if he'll accept it.
The moment Droviz hands touches Havelocks shoulders, the Tengus eyes opens even wider, and the reaction is very much that of a startled animal.
Acting on defensive instinct, Havelocks head darts forward, and the sharp beak snaps together just shy of Droviz left eye.
The Professor then takes a step back and grabs his head in both clawed hands, shaking it, trying to clear his thoughts.
"Nnnngh...gnargh...grrrrr."
After a few moments you regain control of yourselves, though you remain visibly disturbed by the experience.
A small hut stands here on four legs, each one a single tree
trunk whose gnarled roots resemble the toes of a giant chicken.
The hut is constructed of heavy logs with a patchwork roof of
shaved bark shingles. Inside the hut’s open doorway, a small
figure sits on a carved wooden chair, staring across the clearing
at the trail on the other side.
Elen moves closer, peering at the hut, trying to remember what this might be. She has her bow out and an arrow on the string.
Ragnar was visibly shaken. He had experienced such things before. It was not something one should get used to. His stoic mask was back in place as soon as he stood, but he made no effort to wipe or hide the tears on his face. He gave Krystae a small nod of thanks. Around him tiny footprints in the snow whispered faintly audible words of encouragement in a long-dead tongue.
He walked back to where the little girl had been and knelt down. "Come with me." he said quietly.
The little ghost flickered into view for just a moment, looking stricken, then vanished again just as she started to speak.
Ragnar shook his head. "I don't know. It will be better though. At least you will not be alone."
One more pair of footprints joined the others.
"Right, then," Droviz says as he readies his chakram and strides forward. "Ghost-girlie said she didn't want to see someone's dolly, and that little thing looks the right size. One, two, go!"
As soon as he is within range, Droviz hurls his ranged weapon at the little figure, the metal disc howling as it cuts the air.
Elen gasps in surprise when Droviz impetuously throws his Chakram, but decides that quick action and decisiveness suits the situation. "Good throw!"
The doll's face is that of an old crone, though it still bears a strong resemblance to the girl's countenance when she was still alive—enough that you can recognize the similarities between the doll and the phantom girl you saw before. Far more unnerving, however, are the doll's mismatched eyes—one a blue gemstone, the other a small round mirror the size of a coin, reflecting the world around her.
The gem acts as the doll's soul focus, retaining all the memories the construct experiences, but the mirrored eye serves an entirely different purpose, allowing a witch to scry on the doll's location with the Irriseni mirror sight spell. The mirror appears to be active right now. first encounter Thora, Radosek is using that spell to look through the guardian doll's mirror.
Droviz's chakram flies through the error and embeds itself in the neck of the doll. The doll then begins to levitate and moves to a position twenty feet in the air just outside of the hut. It then speaks:
"Fools! Now you will feel the full wrath of the Witch Queen! Taldor belongs to the Lady Elvanna now!"
"I haven't got any other ranged weapons on me. Somebody bring it down and tell me what hurts it!" Droviz says, calmly but urgently.
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Krystae recoils as the doll suddenly begins to speak and levitate after Droviz's weapon strikes true; however, the doll's actions prove to Krystae they manner of its existence. "The doll is a construct, that mirror eye allows a witch to scry and see everything the doll can! We must take it down quickly!" Krystae takes aim at the doll and let's loose with an arrow! "Go back to the Northern lands, witch! You are not welcome here!"
"Metals, Stormcrow!" Droviz bellows. "I need to know what kind of metals! Blunt or edged? Tell me so I can break it!"
Krystae's arrow strikes true, and the doll shakes in the air from the blow.
Inspiration suddenly strikes Droviz and he unslings his rope, quickly looping it and tying a slipknot. The masked Elf whirls the lasso over his head a few times, and then hurls the loop at the doll, hoping to snare it...!
If the loop catches the floating doll, Droviz yanks the knot tight around it and bellows without looking around: ""
The rope catches the doll securely around the torso.