Warden took the skinning knife, taking an appreciative look at it before getting to work. Warden's wooden limbs were quite capable of applying preasure and staying steady, and quite flexible as well. All advantageous for the task at hand. Wordlessly, Warden worked next to Ragnar and their work progressed swiftly.
Its another four days of miserable, slow marching through the snow packed lands. Food becomes more and more scarce as the snow continues to pound the forest and turn everything white. The only sounds heard are from the wind slicing through the air.
Eventually the storm breaks and the wind and snow slow. The sounds of nature begin to return as squirrels can be seen scampering around, howling wolves can be heard in the distance, and even the occasional birds are spotted flying overhead.
Several large birds seem to be circling overhead.
Those birds are falcons. They don't generally circle often and they rarely fly in groups.
"Ahh, that's better!" Droviz says as he stretches himself to his full length and deeply inhales the chill air. "I was getting tired of not being able to see the end of my staff when I was holding it!"
The masked warrior briefly scratches himself behind his ear before he continues: "Mind you, I wouldn't mind a hot meal and a pint. Any chance we're close to anywhere with an inn yet?"
"Hrrrm, I wonder what has drawn the attention of those birds? I...cannot quite make out what they are.
Might it be scavengers circling a fresh kill, waiting for a predator to leave?"
"Or is it more Witch-eyes, spying on us?" Droviz adds to the list of possibilities.
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Krystae glances upward and spots the falcons circling overhead. She stops and watches them for several minutes with an obvious frown. "This is very strange. At first I thought those birds were buzzards or even crows, but they are falcons, I am sure of it. Falcons do not gather like this, they are fairly solitary birds and they definitely do not circle... We must be very cautious."
"Omens." Ragnar rumbled. "We are still prey."
"Are they close enough for arrows?"
"Falcons, are they? Not scavengers, then. These hunt their prey, kill it, prefer it warm."
Warden looks around at the group, and the others with them:"Likely, they are only observing, passing on information. Alone, they should not be a serious enough threat to us."
Shortly after noticing the circling falcons, they disperse and fly off all in the same direction, the direction that you march towards. Even Nadya notices and speaks up.
"Am I the only one feeling like we're walking into an ambush?"
"If they planned an ambush, that was too blunt. They should have flown off in some other directions, then circle around towards whereever they planned to attack us. Now we know to be on guard. But truth be told, I don't think changing our direction of travel will do much except postpone a confrontation. We should head for favorable terrain, if we deviate from our plotted course, at all", Warden answers, considering carefully if some altered course would give the caravan a defensive advantage, or at least minimize that of any would-be attackers, but can't quite remember the lay of the land.
The Tengu chuckles a little, despite the seriousness of the situation, and the emotionally draining last few weeks he finds the question somewhat comical.
"I ALWAYS expect and ambush, that is why I am still alive."
"Yeh, you and me both," Droviz says, shrugging at Havelock.
The masked warrior squints in thought.
"Hrm. Makes me wonder.... Ole chilly-knickers used ravens to spy on and attack us. Why switch to raptors?"
"The ravens failed and provided us with food. Raptors are stronger. If she can gather a swarm of those, nothing I can call to our aid would be able to stand up to them", Warden answers Droviz. Of course, there were plenty of possible reasons...chief among them the hope that the falcons had been sent by a different source.
But Warden preferred facts...and it was a good fact, no less...if their nemesis upped the ante by simple using more force, doing the same thing again, that would be better than trickery or subterfuge.
"Yeh. Maybe. But ain't ravens smart birds? All a raptors knows is: it moves = divebomb and eat it."
"Smarter beings may require more effort to control...and their instinctual drive to kill may be all that is required of them.", Warden shrugs, not really having an answer, either, but willing to take a guess.
Ragnar listened with a furrowed brow, trying to follow the conversation and keeping his pale eyes on the skies.
"They see us. They know where we go. Only thing to do is not get caught in valleys or on cliffs."
"I will not scout ahead and let my sons out of my sight. If one of you wish to scout ahead, feel free, but I do no think it a good idea. Already fey and wolves and gods know what else have tried to separate us. Let's not make their task any easier for them."
The group marches on and only minutes later come upon four human winter guards. Falcons perched on their shoulders and composite longbows in hand, they stand in formation, ready to fire.
"Surrender now. You are surrounded. Throw down you arms and the White Queen may yet spare your lives" one calls out.
You ties to the forest alert you to a presence to the north, but what or where remains outside of your senses.
"Hey Krystae," Droviz says as he 'casually' steps between the Winter Guards and Nadya and her kids. "You're the expert. What do y'call male witches, anyway? Manwiches? Sandwiches? Stupid? Bad at bluffing?"
Ragnar's laughter started low and built to the booming of thunder. "Sweet summer child." he rumbled as mist rose around him washing out the world in a swell of winter. "Your queen sends you to death."
"One day we will start close enough for me to blow them all up...bah."
Havelock groans and downs an elixir of protection, anticipating having a "bad time" soon.
Fang does, without other orders, it's best to protect Warden. Naturally, that is most efficiently done by eliminating any threat that attacks them.
But these man were just talking, and Warden seemed focused on something to the north, so Fang simply held position, waiting for what happened next.
Seeing everyone else spring into action, Droviz draws his black longsword and unslings his shield!
Krystae's arrow flies true, piercing the man's jugular. Blood gurgles from the neck wound as the man collapses to the ground, painting the snow red. Havelock's shield shimmers briefly in front of him as the contents of the vial are consumed. Droviz's blade and shield find their way free and yearn for blood and flesh. Fang wonders what Warden sees and so does Warden while Ragnar's bellowing laugh begins to each through the woods.
The remaining winter guards let loose their own arrows. One arrow punctures Krystae's thigh, blood welling up and soaking through the thick pant leg. The guards begin drawing more arrows as they order their birds to fly as well.
Havelock steps to the front, drawing a clay phial as he does so.
He was not about to allow any of the falcons to become a threat for long.
Ragnar moved forward as billowed out from his outstretched arms.
"Something else, to the north. Nadya, keep your kids to the south of us.",
Warden turns north, muttering something in a dialect of Sylvan, stretching it's hand out sideway, towards the archers, where what little vegetation grows, or sleeps below the snow, breaks free and impairs the archers actions, adding in common:"Prisoners may be useful."
Fang, understanding what Warden expects from him, moves with Nadya and the children, ready to attack anything hostile coming into his range.
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Krystae gasps as the arrow penetrates deep into her thigh. She grits her teeth against the pain and prepares to fire another arrow, but Ragnar's spell suddenly envelopes them all in the mists. She takes takes advantage of the minor respite and touches two of her fingers on her left hand to the holy symbol on her necklace, whispering a prayer of protection to Desna. Suddenly a shimmering field materializes around Krystae, wrapping protectively around her body. "What is our plan? Move forward and engage? Or use the cover of the mist and meet this other entity that Warden senses?"
"Well, if we're taking prisoners, I might as well use my best skillset," Droviz says. "And I can't exactly knock a man out with a chakram, so...."
The masked warrior charges towards the point where he last saw one of the two archers and, on reaching him, attacks!
"Yield or die, witch-licker!"
That draws an incredulous look from Havelock as he looks after Droviz.
"Really? YOU call someone else that? And I thought you were a giving lover..." He mutters under his breath.
"It all depends on your motivation," Droviz calls back.
Havelock's flask explodes leaving little more than smoldering feathers that float slowly to the snow-covered ground. Ragnar's bellowing laugh seems to almost force the surrounding snow to fly up and obscure vision. At Warden's warning, Nadya shuffles her children south, away from the northern tree line.
Roots and vines spring forth from the snow-covered ground and slip around the feet of the Witch Guards. Instinct and years of training spare them the worst of it, although two are not quite quick enough. The leafs brush against their boots, toxin seeping through the leather and almost instantly raising a fever.
Krystae summons her god's protection while Droviz marches onward through the snow. His trek paused only long enough to sever the wing of a falcon on the way. The bird drops onto the snow, squawking as it flutters about on the ground.
Another bird streaks through the fog and talons slash at the air near Nadya. The last tries to peck out the eyes of the larger bipedal bird. Bounding out of the northern woods, is a large winter wolf. It wastes no time and immediately goes for Nadya, snapping at her heels, clamping down on one, and dragging her to the ground. She shrieks and her children scream in panic as blood soaks the ground.
The remaining Witch Guards drop their longbows and march forward drawing their longswords as they move.
Ragnar heard the screams and stepped forward to find Nadya with his hand. Then he thrust his spear past her at the snarling creature.
As the large Winter Wolf rushes at Nadya, Fang, despite being significantly smaller than it's enemy, enters into melee range swiftly and snaps at the creatures throat.
On a command from Warden, Fangs collar begins to glow in an eerie green light, and he begins to grow larger. Seeing it's enemy sink it's teeth into Nadya, who he was supposed to protect, Fang falls into a frenzy, renewing his assault against the Winter Wolf.
Warden incants "Grow" in an arachaic dialect of Sylvan, watching as Fang more than doubles his size.
The faithful hound would take care of the wolf, which left the archers and their pets. Turning it's attention towards them, Warden moved forward in the fog, only to come next to one of the Falcons. The spear readied, Warden still was not fast enough to react before the bird.
Gods curse your luck woman!
Havelock quickly bats away the annoying avian and reverses his direction.
Instead he heads over to Nadya and forces a healing elixir down her throat.
"Get that wolf off us Ragnar, make a spitroast out of it!
"A moment is all you get, sweetheart," Droviz says, winking at Krystae. "I'm moving up to chop me up a manwitch in a moment. You better keep up."
The Drow makes good use of that moment to hack at the hawk nearest to him, however.
Ragnar's ancient spear easily pierces the large white wolf's hide as Fang's bite rips out fur and muscle. Havelock does his best to staunch the flow of blood pouring out of Nadya's leg. Krystae continues to fire into the ranks of the Witch Guards but between the snow, fog and forest, it's hard to see anything clearly. Droviz finishes off the falcon nearest him practically cleaving it in two.
The winter wolf lets go of Nadya and turns to face off against Fang. He lunges for the beast's throat but snaps up nothing but air. One falcon flies into a frenzy on Warden, a talon slashing a gash across her forearm. The other falcon scratches and tears at Ragnar but finds no perch. The remaining Witch Guards rush forward to surround Droviz.
Ragnar stabs again, but the mists cloud his aim.
"!" Droviz bellows. "Fire in the hold!"
The masked warrior sweeps his sword at the Witch Guard closest to him, and then takes a step back, drawing the enemy on.
"Tsk, running back and forth, it is like I was back grading papers in class!"
With ill grace and bad temper (as is his nature) Havelock lops around to the front, drawing another of his home-made volatile mixtures as he goes.
"Here, play with this!"
Warden stabs at the bird of prey in front of it with it's Shortspear, but the Fog clouds it's depth perception and the strike misses.
Fang circles around the Winter Wolf, moving into a Flank with the spear from the Mist, and attempts to ravage his opponent once more, the scent of blood feeding it's Frenzy.
Both Ragnar and Warden's attacks are spoiled by the fog but while Droviz's blade connects, the leather armor absorbs most of the damage. Havelock's flask flies through the air and smashes into a half-covered rock in the snow. While it manages to explode, most of the damage is neutralized by the surrounding white moisture. Krystae's arrow cares not for the snowflakes in the air and flies true to its target, lodging into her target's shoulder and protruding out the man's back.
As Fang begins to circle, the wolf is quick to pounce. He's obvious a carnivore as although his bite sinks deep, he quickly releases his hold on the vegetable-like Fang. Fang returns the favor and nearly kills the wolf as it's powerful jaws clamp down on the snow-covered canine. The Witch Guards pursue Droviz and one manages to drag his longsword across the Drow's chest. One falcon tries to tear out Ragnar's good eye but is unable to locate it. The other rips into Warden with talon and beak pulling out leaves and twigs, possibly to build a nest.
Droviz curses at the cut, and takes a gliding step southward to ensure the Witchguards can't mob him. As the masked warrior moves, his longsword suddenly develops a gleam, as though it were covered in water - or perhaps in oil. Regardless, Droviz slashes at the Witchguard closest to him, putting all the power into his attack that he can!
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Krystae looks at her comrades and lowers her bow as she reaches up with one hand to touch the holy symbol around her neck. Flames suddenly appear along her fingertips and roll up her arms toward her shoulders where they suddenly seem to seep into her throat. An orange glow can be seen beneath her skin... "Witch-pawns! Your bodies will litter the fields for the carrion birds!"