When Brynjar charged, Ragnar was right behind him. His blood sang. The creature was a small dragon. The stories of his youth, his most treasured memories of a time before the Long Winters Night, welled up in his mind and made him roar like one of the heroes from his father's tales.
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Krystae was prepared when Brynjar and Ragnar both charged the creature and let her arrow loose with a sharp snap of the bow string! She watches the arrow as it streaks through the frigid air towards its target. She begins drawing another arrow as a satisfied smirk shows upon her face when she realizes her missile will likely strike true!
'If only father could see me now...'
Elen targets the creature with her Misfortune hex.
Curses, I should have collected a crossbow myself.
Havelock will have taken the time to get at an agnel toards the beast, so that he too can charage it when the attack comes.
Brynjar's enormous sword comes down solidly on the skull of the half buried wyrm with such force that it flips it out of the snow and onto its back like a massive draconic spoon flipped off a table.
With the wyrm now nicely exposed from his hiding place, Krystae's arrow strikes the belly of the beast just as Ragnar drives his spear straight through the worm, in one side and out the other. The spear is locked between two ribs and will take some serious effort to get back out.
Havelock runs up to the wyrm just as it starts convulsing and watches it die before it even got a chance to strike back.
"Oh...well, good then." Havelock says, a little crestfallen at failing to contribute, but also quite astounded at the speed and ferocity that the enemy was taken down.
"A lot of people would have paid good money for that skull as a trophy, but I think our hides are more valuable."
Havelock then pauses to look around, wondering if the battle might have alerted anyone else.
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Krystae approaches the dead creature to see if her arrow is still intact. She nods to Ragnar and Brynjar as she steps up to them. "Well done."
She kneels next to the deceased wyrm and slips the bloody shaft from its belly. A quick examination shows the arrow still intact and she uses the snow to clean off the gore. She stands and looks about as she fits it to the string of her bow once more. "I wonder how many more such surprises we will meet along the way."
"Too many..." Havelock mutters acidly to himself.
"We seem to be in the clear, and we did not lose a lot of time on this.
Well done everyone, and you, Helios, sharp eyes."
"Always happy to be of service, good professor." Helios says with a slight bow. He keeps an arrow knocked and watches the surroundings as the group investigates the corpse. "Tell me, are these creatures normal for this region?If so, I'll have to rethink my plans on frolicking later."
"There's always room for frolicking in the snow. But what led to this creature being here? Is it simply on its territory, or was it left as a guardian by those we follow?"
"The weather is not natural, that in itself tells us that the wyrm would not be found here at this time of year under normal circumstances.
Unless wyrms are by nature migrating creatures, then it would be unlikely to be a common resident of this area at any time of the year.
Being that they are related to the great wyrms, dragons, we can assume they are not, as dragons prefer to make a lair and remain there.
Furthermore...
Ah, ahem, yes...enough about this."
"So, you think the latter is more likely."
"Well...yes.
We are dealing with ice fey; thematically it makes perfect sense to assume they would be in contact with other creatures of a similar persuasion.
Especially when such creatures have a reputation for being...voracious and aggressive."
"So they've got giant lizards, witches and ice fey on their sides...these bloody bandits are either lucky or cursed" Bellowed Brynjar as he used some snow to clean his sword, the snow feeling cool even to his gloved hands. The battle with the creature ended, a lot faster than he thought it would, his strike felt well placed and his companions swiftly finished of the beast The giant will have a hard time taking that spear out Sheathing his sword, Brynjar walked way from the dead lizard, not even giving it another look.
Casting his eyes skyward Brynjar wondered what kind of weather they'd be facing ahead, it was certainly growing colder, and moving in a storm would be to their disadvantage I don't like pitching camp and giving these bandits enough time to recover, but exhausting our self isn't smart either... He turned his blue eyes to his companions wondering if they still had enough endurance to continue this journey today.
Ragnar knelt and immediately gutted the thing with a small but razor sharp knife that looked like it was made from an antler, with a thick iron blade set into one side and what looked like obsidian on the other. The whole things was criss-crossed with stained leather. It was a rudimentary, but masterfully made survivalist tool.
He dumped the steaming entrails on the ground, peeled it's hide, and took it's head and claws in a matter of minutes.
The hide he rubbed and rolled to be better cleaned and cured later. The body itself he packed with snow and wrapped in a leather bedroll from his pack, then tossed into the chest he was still carrying.
The whole process took a surprisingly short amount of time.
"Ikväll äter vi en drake."
"Tonight, we eat a dragon."
"I suppose it would have eaten us if we had fallen to it."
-Posted with Wayfinder
You continue following the obvious trail in the snow. Feathered bundles and strange fetishes hang from the lowest branches of the trees in this part of the forest, swaying and shifting in the wind. All are stuck through with small pins holding pieces of leather bound around them.
You see several diminutive-size winter-touched sprites hiding among the trees on both sides of the trail.
...meh, gave it a shot
"Don't know about you all, but this is giving me a case of the 'run-homes'."
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Krystae looks at the strange, swaying fetishes with a sense of unease as if something were watching her; however, after a thorough sweep of the area, the inquisitor is sure she does not observe anything. "Such odd objects to be left in the trees. I wonder about their significance?"
Krystae examines them closer as she tries to remember if she recalls such items from her knowledge of the esoteric. She also examines the feathers in hopes to glean any information from the oddities.
Ragnar makes a sign of warding and slows down quite a bit, clearly nervous and scanning their surroundings. The clusters of children's footprints that surround him cluster in close.
Elen readies her bow, watching carefully. She can't see anyone or anything, but her instincts tell her these fetishes are not good things.
"In certain parts of Garund these objects are known as "hex dolls", it is believed that they sometimes contain a small part of the creators spirit, so that he or she may look out through the eyes to observe...or spy on people in the vicinity..."
Havelock is far too focused on watching the objects to truly pay attention to his surroundings.
Helios' mind pulls back from the brimming fear turning in his stomach, something the professor had said caught his attention.
"No wonder I feel like I'm being watched. Bet these fiends left them behind to spy on their back trail." The bard eyes one of the dangling pouches nearest him. "Should we cut them down? Stop the link...?"
He pauses and looks over at Ragnar, seeing the big man on edge doesn't make Helios' middle feel any better. "આ બાબત શું છે? તમે શું જુઓ છો?" he asks him.
"I....would not do that, first of all, it is only a hypothesis.
As learned as I am, I could be wrong.
More to the point, these idols might be part of a trap or...be put here as bait or a...distraction."
Helios takes an involuntary step away from the nearest pouch. "Hmmm, I'm of a mind to give this area a wide berth. Pay it some respect, yeah?"
Krystae identifies the fetishes as the frozen corpses of dead crows, pierced with tiny sprite arrows.
1 pt of damage
1 pt of damage
A tiny arrow whizzes past Helios's ear just as one strikes Havelock in the neck and and another hits Elen in her cheek. Both of them feel intense cold around the site of their wound. Elen is staggered by the cold, but Helios is able to shrug it off.
You see a sprite with a bow in his hand hiding in one of the trees.
You see another sprite with a bow in her hand hiding in one of the trees.
You see yet another sprite with a bow in his hand hiding in one of the trees.
"Sprites," he calls to the rest.
Helios takes on a defensive posture, bow aimed towards the ground.
"Ihmiset metsän, lopeta hyökkäyksen. Myymme vain lopettaa ne, jotka asettaisi tahdon pahan kotonsi. Ettekö auttaa meitä?"
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Krystae half-heartedly heard the others suggest cutting down the fetishes as she takes one in hand to examine it more closely. She begins to turn and tell the others that would not be advisable when she finally identifies the talismans. Her eyes go wide and she jerks her hand back from the fetish with a curse!
"Illaluktande varelser!"
The Ulfen begins to turn to warn the others to leave this place when suddenly several tiny arrows shoot through the air.
Krystae spots three of the sprites in the trees with bows in their hands. She draws back to fire, but hesitates when Helios begins to speak to the creatures in a strange language. She takes aim at one of the sprite while Helios attempts to negotiate with the sprites. "These are sprites from the north, I do not think they parley... Prepare yourselves." She is prepared to release her arrow if the sprites act aggressively.
Catching notice of the the tiny ambushers, Brynjar unsheathes his recently cleaned weapon, ready to soak it in blood once more. With his teeth bared, he edged closer to the armed fey while keeping his sword in front of him "You attack us, and you'll be nothing but a few bloody marks on my sword" He growls, fixing the armed creatures with a glare that burned with hostility.
"Let's see if my fire cannot melt your ice..."
Elen fires at the nearest sprite that isn't in melee with one of her teammates.
Helios looks over as Elen looses an arrow.
"Wait!" he calls out.
Elen is angry from the minuscule arrow striking her and causing her damage from cold. "Wait for what, more arrows to hit us?"
-Posted with Wayfinder
It had been a very long time since Ragnar had seen one of the winter fae. He had been a child, led astray in the woods and nearly died in the cold. His mother had tracked him to where they had led him to where the snow was soft and let the fall bury him.
He'd learned to fear them at that age, and inside the large man was still that frightened child betrayed by a creature that had seemed so wondrous at the time.
He gritted his teeth and began stomping toward the awful little sprites.
When the three fey you saw realize they have been seen, they stop trying to hide, and begin to glow- and similar lights begin to glow throughout the forest, at least fifteen of them. Some of them fly from tree to tree, others remain still. Then Elen's arrow grazes one of them...
Voi tuskaa! Kylmä rauta polttaa meidät...
Oh the pain! The cold iron burns us...
Another calls out to Helios,
Viha Mustaeväkampela kuningatar Elvanna on teille! Pian hänen jäinen kosketus tuhoaa maailman ja kaikki tietävät voimiaan!
The wrath of the Witch Queen Elvanna is upon you! Soon her icy touch will engulf the world and all will know her power!
...Have I heard of a witch Queen Elvanna?
"Pyydän, etkö kohdella meiltä? Vähän tietoa ja turvallinen liikkuminen on kaikki pyydämme. Olisin iloinen puhua tarinoita antiikin jos se miellyttää korvia." the bard asks them, waving for the others to be ready. "Voisin kestit sinulle tarinan Ugork'lex Dryad joka outsmarted Fox-kuningas Agelmar."
"E-l-v-a-n-n-a, heard of her guys? Apparently she's got it in for the south lands."
... If they'll take a story in trade.
"Elvana... the winter queen... Mistress of the Jadwiga -- the White Witch herself!! I all but knew this winter was their doing. Kill them!"
Havelock cackles with glee, eager to test his latest batch of unstable chemical compounds for effect.
As soon as Elen confirms the suspicion that these fey are truly hostile, he hurls one of his bombs at one of the sprite in the trees.
"Burn..."
The fey seem somewhat interested in Helios's story. "Hyvin, että olisi mielenkiintoista ... Mutta olen niin väsynyt yhtäkkiä ... MITÄ noituuden TÄMÄ!?? Tappaa heidät kaikki!"
Havelock's bomb narrowly misses one of the sprites and lights the tree the sprite was on on fire. The fire quickly engulfs the tree and starts to fill the area with smoke.
"Argh! Nämä niistä heittää tuleen! Tule takaisin Izoze ja varoittaa hän toiset!"
"Argh! These ones throw fire! Get back to Izoze and warn the others!"
The three sprites you spotted initially begin to fly away. As they flee Krystae puts an arrow into one of them. It loses a bit of altitude, then drops a a diminutive size shortsword and bow to drop a bit of weight before recovering and flying out of range.
"What are you guys doing? They were willing to trade for information!" Helios calls out in frustration. He raises his bow, showing anger for the first time in mixed company. "Now they're going to someone named Izoze to warn others."
Out of necessity rather than desire, he loses an arrow at the nearest sprite.
"The only information we would have gotten out of them is what it feels like to have a blade buried in our hearts turning our blood to ice!" Elen insists angrily.
Helios's arrow falls short and the fey are gone. Then suddenly you realize that all the other glowing lights in the trees have disappeared.
You follow down the trail a bit further.
A narrow game trail winds its way through the trees and undergrowth here. Hoofprints mark the underlying snow, leading in both directions. You see a white stag about 300 feet away to the east. It appears to be looking in your direction.
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Krystae scoops up the fallen sword and bow and stashes them into her bandolier before turning towards Helios. "Sorry Helios, I will try to restrain myself next time." She then turns to Elen at her outburst. The witch's apparently hatred for the white witches raised Krystae's opinion of her greatly. 'Perhaps she is not as evil as I though... for a witch.'
When they suddenly come upon the white stag watching them, she cautiously examines the noble looking creature. She searches her memory to see if she recalls anything about such an animal.
Ragnar's knuckles popped on his spear. He moved carefully with the others. It was clear that he did not like these woods.
