Bastagar's bludgeon catches the mantis in a fragile joint, shattering it's leg and bringing it's head low where it's life is easily ended.
Standing for a moment in stunned silence, Bastagar lets out a triumphant shout, skipping across the creature's carapace to land beside Caerb in the snow. He leans over his gnarled walking stick with a smirk before offering a hand. "Up it gets. Long way to go yet. Long way to go."
Snjorrin nods his head.
"You should keep moving."
He then puts his axe over his shoulder, and keeps trudging towards the distant lights.
You continue towards the lights and the storm deepens, snow falling thicker and wind biting. There may not be time enough to reach it before the blizzard heightens to fury. Ahead through the sleet you do spy the silhouettes of dog drawn sleds and what looks to be a stout shelter half constructed...
The Halfhand brushes the hair out of his face, squinting into the distance.
"At this rate we'll be buried alive!" He points towards the shapes in the distance, shouting back over the wind. "There are others there, with shelter. I say we chance it - Take it by force if we need to!"
With thought that the distant lights may be too far, you instead approach the silhouettes and bring them into closer focus. Five human shapes, and five dog pulled sleds are counted among their number - along with a large and sturdy looking fur wrapped structure. The sleds are laden with crated goods.
As soon as you begin towards them you note that you are being watched. One of the sled drivers walks towards you slightly in front of the others who continue to erect the shelter. They are all bedecked in furs and have weapons at their waists... but it is clear to your eyes that they are more hunters than soldiers.
The seeming leader has it's face wrapped and makes a hole betwixt cloth so speech might be easier. Holding up a hand a female voice sounds forth "Hail... I saw you fell the bönsyrsa... are you friend or foe?" and she passes her eyes over the lot of you in turn, taking most of you at face value - though Snjorinn's mask gives her momentary pause...
Hilde steps up, her pale hair snapping in the wind.
"Well met, fair stranger,
no good man's foe be we.
To yonder town we're headed,
though too late by now,
we'll likely be.
I see ye've shelter,
might thee maybe share?
In climes this cold,
blood quickly freezes,
killing us 'tween here and there."
"We have little want for a fight. I suspect you don't either." the wizard says, lowering his crossbow. His eye drifts to the crates. "A perilous task, to be delivering supply with such creatures about."
She mulls your words for a few moments before nodding curtly "Fair enough, I am Nadya. Give me a name and make peacebond against drawing steel then you can share my furs..." pausing again for a few moments "Help put up the rest of the shelter... then maybe you can even share my food."
Hilde moves forward, not having had a weapon drawn. Sticking out her hand, she says,
"I am Hilde Alfborne,
and these are my kin,
with three strangers met,
on the road recently.
Let our labors begin."
He stares at her for a moment before nodding, and hanging his crossbow.
"My name is..." The wizard pauses for a moment, his face contorted as if trying to recall something from long ago. "They call me the Halfhand. There is no prizes for guessing why."
He lifts his gloved, three-fingered hand in front of his face. "I'll get to work, then."
As Hilde speaks, Bastagar gleefully leaps to his feet, scurrying into the camp and diving under the furs, stubbornly refusing to come out again. Invitations hold great weight to the fairie-kind, and cannot be withdrawn once given.
Nadya intercedes between Bastagar and the warmth of the half-erected shelter, preventing him from reaching it. Hand half going to weapon she wards "I asked for names, and yours has not been given..."
Kelgar squints at their host, studying her for signs of evil or witchcraft.
With a longing look at her shelter, he sticks out a stubby mailed hand and agrees.
"Ah be Kelgar. Frostbeard, even. Ah'n yer kindness be much appreciated."
The dwarf gives the sky a worried look and gets to work, bearing as much of the burden as possible in the swift establishment of the fur-covered fort.
Kelgar finds no sense or taint of evil upon Nadya or the sledders.
"Bastagar be he,
kin to Cearb and me.
As the Puck he is known,
But not in these lands,
His nature is just what you see."
Nadya grunts "Well the little bastard can't have any of our food if he's not willing to share the labor." but does not make overmuch of a scene. The fur and wooden structure is easily put up with your strong arms and backs put to task. After but fifteen minutes it stands with walls weighted by the stores that Nadya had been transporting and just enough space within for you all to crowd inside. A fire is set, and you get the strange feeling of burgeoning sweat as the well cured furs keep the wind from coming in and much of the heat from escaping.
The men who drive the sleds keep mostly to themselves, huddled with their dogs and muttering neutrally in Skald between theselves.
Finally once a pot of stew and a second kettle of tea is beginning to bubble does Nadya stop and turn to sit before you crosslegged. Her face is weary, but her eyes betray a brightness to her mind. She asks directly "So... outlanders, why are you in the Witch-land? The borders of Irrisen are far from Waldsby... and you... you do not belong here." her voice is far from accusatory, and instead has tinges of genuine interest.
Hilde looks thoughtful for a moment, then allows her face to show that she has made a decision and plows straight ahead.
"An imbalance has risen,
in the Courts of the Fey,
some, to the witches have turned,
for now, cold hands do hold sway.
A witch-gate was found,
which we entered this morn,
to fields of snow did it lead,
and to dangers un-warned."
Kelgar takes up his usual position fireside and does his best to find some comfort atop his thick blanket.
As Hilde relays part of their tale, strategically, he nods and grumbles something from his beard before chiming in, hoping to learn more about their hosts before they reveal their goals too thoroughly.
"Ah, th' lass be right. How about ye folk? Dinnae expect to find a welcome host out in th' cold."
Nadya measures your words carefully, connecting the mention of a portal and that of a fey conflict before venturing "So you have come from beyond to here... You would do well to know that the village to which we both are headed is clothed in white... both of snow and of the white witch's gaze. Do you seek to be seen, or hidden from that attention?" words partially halting as though she is fearful and hopeful both.
To Kelgar Nadya smiles "You were lucky, it is not often that the trail is forged - but perhaps the fates have smiled today."
"Does one ever seek to gain the attentions of a white witch?" the Halfhand muses, stretching out his arms. "No... It would be best if we pass through unseen. Though I doubt it would remain that way for long. The White Witches have many eyes. Still, it would be a boon to get our bearings, and this village would be as good a starting point as any."
"What mine companions have said,
mirror the thoughts of my own.
We carry no shields for the hags,
and our business is only our own."
Sensing the tenseness that you hold speaking to a stranger, and yet emboldened by some fo the words spoken; Nadya speaks plainly "I have no love for the Witches in White... but if you plan to walk into Waldsby you need know that Nazhena Vasilliovna holds the Pale Tower and looks down upon the villagers as her vassals. You will not survive even a passing glance dressed as you are... when the storm passes - you should come with me to my home... I can give you shelter and clothes to better hide in plain sight."
Snjórinn nods.
"This one agrees that it would be best if you were to avoid notice as much as is possible. Attracting too much attention in this land is never a good idea."
"Your advice, we will take,
and your lead, we will follow,
where then shall we journey,
when we set out tomorrow?"
"Wait a moment..." The Halfhand says, Nadya's words stirring a memory. "You mentioned the Pale Tower. It is nearby, then?"
The wizard shares a glance at the others, as if exchanging some unspoken message.
Nadya nods both grimly and surely at Hilde's acceptance "To my home, in Waldsby." but as she opens her mouth to respond to Halfhand, one of her sledders furrows brow and looks outside through tent flap and into the raging blizzard. He hisses "Something approaches out of the storm! A man or the like, untroubled by the wind."
Kelgar stirs at the mention of the Pale Tower, but quickly bites his lip under his beard, lest he reveal his interest to a still mostly unknown stranger.
He tries, awkwardly, to appear both interested and disinterested in the conversion.
"Ach, th' Pale Tower. Ah feel like there must be some stories or such that a local could share? And what o' this Nazhena?"
The Halfhand stands, hobbling to get a better view of the newcomer as he lays a hand on his crossbow.
Even as Halfhand stands to move over to the tent flap, a voice sounds from the howling wind outside... high pitched but mellow and intoxicating "Hail the tent, a traveller asks for shelter"
Nadya casts a worried glance at you all before responding "Hail the traveller, there is room at the fire... you may enter with my blessing"
Stepping through the door is a striking figure with a hairless blue tinged body and the horns and legs of a goat. She looks around the tent as she removes a hood from her head and looks about the tent "An ill wind blows outside..."
Bastagar sits sullenly eyeing the stew-pot from beneath the furs. Sullenly, he reaches into his pack, nearly breaking his teeth on a raw turnip. Tears in his eyes, he tuns to their new visitor, shrinking back into hiding, his crooked nose all that is visible from beneath the covers as he sniffs the air, trying to determine what the strange creature that entered may be.
The Halfhand frowns, somewhat displeased by the presence of more non-humans.
Both Bastagar and Halfhand identify the newcomer as a Forlarren, though this one is touched by winter much in the same way as the sprites encountered on the other side of the portal.
A bastard child of fiend and fey. This could only mean trouble.
"Forlarren, fiendblood, claws that rend.
But is this one winter's friend?"
Bastagar emerges from his hidey-hole, standing hesitantly by Hilde's side. He bows, so stiffly you can almost hear the creaking of his bones, eyes not leaving the horned woman. "This one is Bastagar."
As the forlarren's half words are met only by the greeting of a wizened gnome, she half-smiles with unreadable emotion before responding "This one is Mierul... and it seems that not one band but two dwell within this tent. Of those with sleds I know... but what brings outlanders this way?"
Nadya half rises, seeming to start to respond to Mierul's question...
Kelgar eyes the newcomer from behind a tangled mess of white hair, any expression on his face hidden by the volume of his beard.
He turns to Hilde, trying to ascertain what the paladin makes of the blue-skinned newcomer.
You don't trust it, and you do not think it would be good for it to know any of the truth of your purpose.
Bastagar rocks on his heels, unable to cope with the heavy silence cast over the tent. He leans in close to Kelgar, wrapping a gnarled hand around his shoulder and leaning on tip-toes to hiss into his ear. "What does bearded one think? It does not answer Bastagar's question. A spy, does it think?"
Hilde stands, one hand on Bastagar's shoulder, the other stretched behind her, shielding Cearb.
"Well met, I hope,
child of ice and fire.
Shall we speak a moment,
or is it blood that brings you,
and that which you desire?
Night grows longer,
and Winter girds for war.
Your season, certainly, has come,
yet my path is fraught with steel,
where once we'd only spar."
It is obvious that Hilde considers the newcomer to be associated with the Winter Court. It would not occur to Hilde that a forlarren/tiefling/aasimar/half-fey could have its own agenda or be unaligned. While the world of Golarion certainly works that way, her world doesn't.
She is basically saying hello and letting the other know both that she is interested in talking and what about. She has not performed a Detect Evil, knowing that it can be recognized as such and may begin the conversation on a bad note.
The Halfhand stands by idly, his fingers drumming on the side of his crossbow.
Ormr seems quite interested in the newcomer, unsure of what to make of the creature as he pokes his head out from the hunter's furs.
Kelgar frowns at Bastagar, his expression invisible at a distance and obscured by the sheer volume of his beard.
He listens with rapt attention as Hilde greets the forlarren, wondering how the paladin's response will be met and not wanting to interrupt Nadya as she rises.
The forlarren is drawn into deeper intrigue by Hilde's words, and it's reaction is either calming or dangerous... depending upon how you view it. A cheshire grin splits it's face as hands go wide in a universal sign that it has no hostile intent "Words only, and only words... though if your grace permits I might give a song to pass the time as wind howls without and fire warms within."
It's next words carry a hint of guiding and prodding inquiry "In fair Irrisen the winter is always deep... shadows neither lengthen nor shorten - instead enduring. To speak that days grow short implies that you have come from a place beyond it's borders. If you speak of where, I will tell you why I wander the barren snows."
"A tale, a song, or fel enchantment?" Bastagar says, suspiciously. "Forlarren swears not to bewitch poor Bastagar, and we tells it why we come from Grungir's boughs." the gnome slips, starting and covering his mouth in fright. He makes an apologetic glance at his companions, his pale watery eyes wide with fright.
Kelgar glares at Bastagar and huffles at the forlarren's rhyming inquiry.
He glances towards Nadya, not wanting to step on the words of their host, but clearly concerned that Bastagar may share too much.
"Our business is ours, lass. Ye know Irrisen as well as I, ifn't more. Best not t' dig when th' cold makes th' ground so unwilling."
Kelgar leans forward, doing his best to play the part of a gruff dwarf, hoping his companions - the Halfhand at least - gets the hint, and jumps in to redirect the conversation away from their intentions, or back onto forlarren's intentions.
Snjórinn remains quiet in a corner of the dwelling, curled up in his cloak, doing his best to remain unnoticed.
The ice witches have many eyes, the cold fey chief amongst them. This one hopes that the Outlanders know what they are doing...
Hilde's hand remains calm on Bastagar's shoulder as he reveals their homeland, certain that her appearance leaves little doubt as to her origin.
"From fair Grungir
we've made our way,
to this land of law forgotten,
where the new blade holds no sway.
Abomination
yet grips this land,
ever seeking its wings to spread,
the betrayal of liars always at hand."
Spitting out her words with a venom seldom shown, the reminder of Irrisen's never-ending winter has cost Hilde her temper. The sole saving grace in this instance is that while clearly angry, the fey paladin does not seem angry at anyone currently present.
She refers to the law of the seasons as that which is forgotten, noting that Spring never brings new grass to replace the endless snow. She states that this is the source of her anger and blames the Winter Court.
Hilde has spun the whole expedition as a Fey problem, leaving the witches out of it. She indicates that she is angry at the Winter Court and leaves it there.
The forlarren smirks unfathomably at Bastagar, before replying to Hilde "So hot your heart runs at the land of snow... yet you do not rail against the desert, where ice holds no sway... but we are all fickle no?"
Nadya and the sledders and attempting as much as they can manage to avoid the conversation all together... though you get a sense that while eyes are turned, their ears are listening.
Kelgar's gruffness does not dissuade the forlarren, instead provoking a more direct question "Though there is one that rode this way, sheathed in black... did you see of him when you crossed through from lands afar?"