Droviz starts whipping the troops into shape right away.
"You're farmers, so I'm counting on you being familiar with quarterstaves at the very least. I'm going to build on that by making you spears. The good part of a spear is that all the action happens a ways away. Bring me your staves and meet me at the forge."
Taking stock of what he has to work with, Havelock scratches his beak and considers.
"Hrrm, enough here to make some things, but I do not know how much time we have.
A few days most likely, but what to focus on?
I...should ask the others."
Looking out from the building, the Tengu observes the others in action and sighs, he did not want to infect the others with his current defeatist mood, but something still seemed wrong with the whole situation.
About three dozen of the townsfolk show up at the forge with their staves, spears, rakes, hoes, and whatever else they could find to makeshift into pole arms. A few have brought their kids with them, but the children quickly gather around the forge for warmth. The forge and shop itself are modest, but is stocked with enough supplies to get the job done.
The more he looks over the shop, the more he begins to realize that to make anything useful in enough quantities would take so long as to be inefficient.
Hrrm, I will need to discus how long we stay here with the others, so I will be able to plan what I can make.
A few bottles of poison? Alchemist fire? Some acid perhaps?
Or perhaps focus more on utility items, like tanglefoot bags?
After two weeks: "Everybody seems ready. We did not come here to take root in the village, did we? More storms are brewing, circumstances are growing worse every day we wait...and Fang and I are growing restless. Let us proceed, soon!"
It's been two weeks of hard labor and long hours. Whether hammering at the forge, instructing others in warfare, or mixing volatile ingredients; it all takes it's toll. Some of the people have been busy packing up everything they own while others have even deconstructed buildings for supplies. Wagons and carts are packed up for the journey back to the ice castle.
Finally Nadya approaches everyone, her young boys in tow. "We must leave, today. We have dallied too long as it is, I fear. The ice queen will surely know by now what we are up to." Uncertainty and fear are evident in her voice while her face blushes with anger.
Within a few hours, the retinue is underway. Pack animals pull wagons while farm animals march along side. The young and infirm ride while everyone else marches. It is cold and windy and flurries of snow pick up every now and again. Shortly after leaving the village, ravens begin flying overhead. It starts as a hand few, but the flock grows hour after hour.
The birds' behavior is not natural and they definitely appear to be following the entourage, almost like carrion birds except they don't appear to get any closer.
"Don't need fancy wilderness learning to know what's with that; it happened before. Cold queen's spying on us, getting marching orders to her own troops. If we can move through forest and other cover, we should. NOW."
"Yes. They are not acting natural. It is good they are spy's, though. Because the alternative would be that they are waiting to feast on your carcasses, knowing something we don't.", Warden calmly states, then takes a look around:"However, if the cold queen manages to have troops converge on us, the outcome would be much the same. I concur with your suggested course of action. I will try and scatter her spies before we enter cover.", it adds confidently.
Nadya nods her head in agreement. "The forest thickens a mile or so ahead. It should buy us some cover from their prying eyes. We've still got more than a week's march ahead of us. If they're intent on reporting on our position, we may be in for a fight."
The caravan continues it's march and less than an hour later the forest closes in as expected. The wind seems to slow and it grows eerily quiet. The flock of ravens continue to be seen overheard.
"My feathered brethren, oft considered a symbol of bad luck."
The Tengu professor shrugs a little, not having felt very talkative since the failure to save the child.
Ragnar brought up the rear the group, trudging along with long legs and plodding steps through the snow. "Tulo is up there. We were joined, before. Now, we are not. The witch tore him away."
"More weregild. She will pay."
As the group marches onward through the snow-covered forest, one member slips out of sight and blends in with the trees. Moments later, the ravens split into two large separate groups. The birds begin to swoop down, dozens at a time, pecking and scratching at everyone they can. Some of the birds attack from the front of the pack while the rest come in from the rear. It almost seems like a coordinated attack but that would be unheard of for birds.
More and more blackbirds fly out of the forest and another swarm of birds begins to form towards the rear of the entourage. Suddenly the recent arrivals turn on the larger groups and the birds actually begin fighting each other. Tufts of feathers float through the air as painful caws echo through the trees.
Some of the townsfolk take up defensive positions with their spears while the rest cower around whatever cover they can find. Almost as quickly as it begun, the whirlwind of beaks and black feathers ends. The birds disperse but leave scores of carcasses in their wake. Dozens of dead birds litter the forest ground as only the cries of some of the children are heard. In the end, no real harm is done and only cuts and scratches are left behind.
The people are confused and somewhat dejected, but Nadya quickly gets them up and underway again. It's several more hours of marching before the sky begins to grow dark and the group is forced to stop for the night. Tents and lean-to's are erected and people cuddle together for warmth. Cold, dried foods are passed around and small fires are lit to thaw the water frozen in canteens and waterskins. It's a miserable and exhausting journey so far for almost all of the men and women when Nadya seeks you out to confide in you.
"I don't know if they'll all make it. Food will be very scarce the longer we move as we simply cannot carry two weeks of food for a hundred mouths."
Before the group moves on from the site of the raven's battle, Droviz passes over the field of battle and collects as many carcasses as he can string along the length of his new quarterstaff, and encourages others to do the same -- especially his trainee soldiers.
"Solid lesson for you right here, lads and lasses; never pass up a free meal! You find an abandoned acre or vegetable garden? Stuff your pockets! A donkey drops dead? Skin it and cut it up! Ain't no meal too mean for a soldier on the march, so fill your pack, fill your pockets, in a pinch stuff your boots and helmet!"
At the campsite that evening, he hands the birds out to be plucked, gutted and roasted.
"Eat up," he encourages the villagers. "Might not taste good, but it's meat. Warm food'll give you strength and fill your bellies better than those rations. Eat up, and let's raise a drumstick to the cold queen who was kind enough to send us a snack!"
The Drow warrior laughs out loud, mocking the unseen enemy.
After the ravens have been consumed and Nadya comes to voice her concerns, Droviz nods.
"That's always a problem when you go on a campaign; necessary supplies vs. speed. We're going to have to scour the land as we go, hunt where we can, scrape what food is left to be had. And there is food to be had. There's lichens that survive the snow, plants buried beneath the frost we can dig up. In a pinch, we can boil the roots of young trees or dig up hibernating mice.
Ragnar, ole buddy, you want to help me gather some dinner from the land?"
Catching up with the group again, Warden takes note that there seems to be a shortage of rations. Helping with collecting some of the birds, it agrees with Droviz:"No use letting them rot."
Later, Warden will also forage for the convoy...not needing to sleep was a boon in that way, and Fang accompanied Warden.
Offering up what they managed to forage, plus the daily allotment of Goodberries, Warden adds:"I will make sure to provide as much assistance as I can."
The Tengu makes a point on NOT sharing any of the meat, and affecting a somewhat disgusted expression.
Elen does the best she can to find food in the frozen wilds, taking advantage of her ability to ignore the cold to run barefoot through the snow and dig for anything she can find.
Droviz pauses a moment to consider Krystae's question, and then answers: "I figure old chilly-knickers could've - and more likely would've - butchered these folks in their homes. Me, I'd've sent them for the border, but I don't know what it's like there."
The Drow looks out on the winter landscape, his eyes staring into the far distance as he devotes more thought to the situation, and finally... he shrugs. "Leastwise this way, we're on hand to help 'em where we can. Couldn't have done that if we'd left 'em to their own devices. I'm training up those who want to learn fightin', so they can at least die on their feet if it comes to it. Better that way. Not as good as goin' out with a smile, but better than being dragged on a scaffold to crap yourself while you dangle from a rope. Also better'n being gutted like a spring lamb and eaten by a Troll or summat.
This en't ideal... But I think it's the best we could've done, given our options."
Having little skill in gathering supplies or keeping spirits up, the Tengu had been trudging along in sullen silence for some time, quietly brooding.
But by now he was sick of feeling useless, so instead he wrapped his cloak around himself and briskly set out to scout ahead, figuring that his keen eye and silent step might serve in finding potential danger before it could become a problem.
After camp was made, Ragnar said "Follow." to Krystae. "It is bad night to hunt alone."
Then he moved into the darkness away from the camp and started looking for tracks and trail sign.
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Krystae looks at Droviz, shaking her head with a wry smile. "You have an interesting way with words, Droviz. Anyone ever tell you that?" She sighs, her breath fogging in a frigid air. "I suppose your right, though. Perhaps we should have sent them to the border, but who knows who far that is or whether they would've even made it. Perhaps its my Ulfen blood, but I'd much rather die on my feet making a stand than hiding beneath a fur blanket to be dragged off to a torturous end."
Most of the people follow Droviz's lead and pack as many dead birds as they can. With so many people looking for food, the masses eat well enough tonight although one in particular seems to have lost his appetite.
The night grows cold as the wind picks up. The troop stops for the night to set up camp and people bunker down for the night. Nadya sets up guards and watches every few dozen feet but most of them can't see well in the night. Luckily the moon casts it's pale light down upon the white snow creating an abnormal luminescence reminiscent of a prolonged dusk.
Small fires are prepared for cooking but are doused shortly after meals are finished. Nadya is fearful of drawing any more unwanted attention to the caravan, especially during their rest.
Krystae looks at Droviz, shaking her head with a wry smile. "You have an interesting way with words, Droviz. Anyone ever tell you that?"
Droviz pauses to cast his mind back and then shakes his head.
"Not that I recall. Mostly, folks back home told me I was stupid and that I could either shut up or I'd get whipped. Or skinned. I like what you said better."
When the fires go out, the Drow starts chivying people.
"Families shack up in the same tent. Folks without families bundle together. Don't bother getting embarrassed; it's beastly cold and we need to preserve heat. Mind your manners and nothing's wrong. Go on, now."
Knowing that Elen and Ragnar can take care of minor wounds, like the ones from mild frostbite, Havelock plans on mixing together only a batch of elixir for the resisting of cold.
That way, should someone in the caravan seem to be about to succumb to the heavy weather, he can help.
Especially the little ones...
Having little else to do except stand watch, Warden seeks out Havelock as he is working on elixirs again: "It is weird. I know there are torches that shed light, but no heat. Is it so hard to do it the other way round? To let it provide warmth, but no light?", Warden genuinely wonders, upon learning that heat preservation would be an issue.
"It is all a matter of energy, it is a common law in magic that matter is more difficult to create than energy, and while you can remove the energy of heat from fire, because it is more consuming.
To create a fire that gives no light but heat would mean removing the weaker component and keeping the stronger, thus requiring much more energy.
Indeed, it is more efficient to create a normal fire.
However...it might still prove an interesting field of study..."
At Droviz's insistence, the masses huddle together to stay warm. Numerous families crowd close around each other as the wind blows and the snow falls lightly. Blankets are erected as make-shift tents while the children hide under the few wagons. Several men form up in pairs and stand watch while leaning on their spears.
The night creeps along slowly and those awake are on edge for most of the night. The howling wind, snow falling and creaking trees make it hard to see and hear well but it also serves to hide the caravan from potential threats.
In the morning as people awaken and set about preparing for travel, a panic spreads through the caravan. Most of the food has rotted overnight. Whispers and murmurs quickly travel through the camp and Nadya confirms the news.
"Something...it doesn't make any sense. Most of the food stores are rotted. It should have taken weeks given the cold, but it happened overnight. And there are footprints, tiny footprints. I...have no answers."
Multiple sets of tiny footprints are scattered near and around the wagons. While the tracks are somewhat covered by recent snow fall, there is no indication of where the tracks lead or came from. It's as if something appeared out of nowhere.
Tiny footprints, rotting food, vanishing tracks, no violence. Sounds like fey.
"Hunh," Droviz grunts while examining the tracks. "They popped in outta nowhere and popped back into it. Tiny buggers, too. Looks like magic ta me. Witches must've arranged this - the queen's witches, I mean."
The Drow drums his fingers on his staff. "... Then again. Someone who lives here might have objections to both us and the witch queen. Someone had to have sent that second flick of birds 'n all."
Warden looks up from the tracks, looking towards where they vanish:"The second flock of birds, I called. It seemed sensible to get rid of her spies and provide food. But these tracks, I am not sure of their origin. The way it happened. I should know it, I know that I should be able to tell you more about it, but the answer eludes me, remaining just beyond my minds grasp. With the heart of the forest frozen, all I know is...hazy, like searching for something in a lucid dream."
Warden takes a look at the food stores, then nods silently:"The food is rotten, but I can try. Maybe some of it can be saved. It is not natural for things to go to waste like that. Nature uses all. In due time."
"We may be focusing on the wrong part of the problem here, WHO did it and WHY is less interesting than what they did.
And indeed, even THAT is less interesting than the fact that it WAS done, and deliberately as well.
Clearly someone wants to slow us down, perhaps hurt us.
Do they want to stop us? Possible, but they did not go for the kill..."
"They're pretty tiny, see? Maybe they didn't feel brave enough to try on armed warriors or folks huddled too close together to single one out."
"So, what are the odds then that they seek to starve us until we are too weak to resist?"
"Better than they'd be smart and poison the grub, looks like. It's a solid strategy, all in all. A starving giant is just a bigger target, rather than an unstoppable juggernaut."
Krystae spends some time searching the immediate area but before she can find anything, Nadya inquires about pressing on. Anxious to be away from this accursed forest, she has the townsfolk up and ready to march on when she approaches. "I would like to press on. It would be better for morale for them to not sit around and let their minds wander."
Warden cocks it's head, then helpfully adds: "It is also better for their lives. No doubt our nemesis took note of our last known position, and, knowing where we departed, and possible destination, probably pinpointed our current location. I expect her troops are moving against us even now. It would be desirable to not be here when they arrive. In an open battle, most of the townsfolk would die."
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Krystae understands Nadya's wishes. "Understandable. Let us continue, as Warden believes she can purify our food while mobile. We need to make sure to set more sentries around our food and other perishables. I will volunteer to stay awake most of the night this evening; I can detect magical auras at will and perhaps that will prevent another incursion of enemy forces. I can then catch a few hours of sleep during the day on one of the wagons."
"This all seems so very elaborate...so pointlessly intricate to waste on us.
There must be more to this than what we can see..."
DC 10 Get along in the wild. Move up to half your overland speed while hunting and foraging (no food or water supplies needed). You can provide food and water for one other person for every 2 points by which your check result exceeds 10.
Thinking some more on what happened, together with some points Krystae pointed out, Warden manages to piece things together into a more cohesive picture: "It may be little more than a destructive prank. Some fey care little if others live or die, as long as they get a good laugh out of it. Such an elaborate prank would not seem wasted to those. And it would be preferable to assume they are not in an alliance with the Ice Witch or corrupted to her will- there needs to be little more to it. Without magic capable of reversing the process, most of the people here would starve. Which some unseelie beings would find vastly amusing."
"Preferable, sure. But we should take the possibility into account that they do work for Ms. Chilly-Knickers."
The caravan pulls out and is back underway within a few hours. It is slow going through the snow but progress is steady. Roughly halfway through the day and the Ice Tower is visible ahead. Another two hours and the head of the caravan begins to enter the tower. It takes the rest of the day to get everyone safely into the tower. Quarters are cramped and there is no land to farm on, but their provisions should last them a few weeks. The portcullis is still broken and bodies litter the structure but they are quickly cleared out by the able-bodied.
Nadya quickly begins barking orders and several of the men scour the building for resources and take up guard positions. About two hours later everyone is summoned to the banquet hall. Some of the elder women have prepared a meal of dried meats and hard breads.
Nadya speaks up. "We'll stay here for the night and continue on first thing in the morning. Get some rest. We'll keep watch tonight. Thank you for everything. We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you."
"If you find or brought any mirrors, it may be prudent to keep them covered. Or destroy them. Just to be safe.", Warden suggests to Nadya.
Why does she thank us for being here? We delayed or hastened their deaths. Everybody dies. Everything dies. It's the natural order. Did they so easily find a new purpose that they are thankful for showing them a different path to their fate?, Warden spends the night pondering the nature of humans, and their lack of mental rooting they call flexibility.
Hnnh, a small step on a long path, but it takes a small weight of my mind.