"Cannibal or no, I think we should see if we can stay there. If there is a cannibal, I'd rather meet him now than in the middle of the night"
"I'm more concerned that it is some kind of witch. They seem to be a real issue in this world, wot? But that doesn't stop them from being other things." Still, the need to be warm would see them in the cabin one way or another, so...
"Witches eat kids, right? SO it could definitely be both."
"Some witches, yes," Tallak answers dryly, "But if it isn't a witch, there is... not a law of hospitality, as such, but people this far north are often inclined to be polite to travelers. The cold is an enemy to us all." The Ulfen shrugs. "If it's warmth you need and you fear the occupants of the cabin, we could bypass it by a wide margin, find a sturdy tree to break the wind, warm ourselves with a dry fire. Little smoke, but a lot of heat." He hefts his pack meaningfully. "The allure of beds might be strong for southerners like yourselves, but comfort is possible even in the wood, if you're clever enough to make some yourself. But I won't force you to... what is the Taldan phrase, ah, yes, 'rough it'.
"We need information as well as shelter. I think we should definitely approach the cabin. If we're afraid of a single cabin in the middle of the woods, how can we possibly succeed in our task?"
"Then let's."
Running a hand through his hair, William approaches the cabin and raps on the door.
The door swings open and William finds a strikingly beautiful woman with pale skin and fiery red hair staring at him. She smiles and says, "Ah, I had expected someone else. I am Sylgja, please come our of the cold..."
Beyond the woman, you see a one room cabin only twenty foot square. There is a hearth with a warm fire, natural stone stacked to form the hearth and the chimney. There is a small bed, tied ropes beneath a feather mattress. There are two chairs near the fire and a variety of herbs and something like rabbit carcasses hanging from the rafters.
Walter bowed politely and with a mild flourish. He may have no idea what the woman was saying, but it seemed polite regardless.
As more and more of you come out of the cold, Sylgja's eyes widen in increasing surprise. "I do not know what strange spirits bring you here at this time, but I can only hope that you will help a poor wife in need. A moss troll has taken my husband. I saw it from a distance, and after it ran into a cave I moved close enough to find this hand axe that he must have dropped in a struggle."
"Nothing at all suspicious about her greeting us so warmly when she just found her husband missing"
"Uh, sorry, but what is a Moss troll?"
She just has to be another trap. I'm not falling for it this time.
"And, pardon my rudeness, but who were you expecting?"
Walter's eyebrow raised. "A troll? As in the nordic fairy tales?"
"I thought you might be Finngarth, my husband, or maybe the troll, though I guess trolls don't rap politely on doors. But what do I know about what trolls do? A moss troll is smaller than most trolls. Only must man sized, they have great noses, and skin like tree-bark. And called moss trolls because their skin has growths that look like moss. That's why they are called moss trolls."
"Your friend, he does not speak Skald?"
Sorry, I forget. Can we still CHOOSE to speak in English or are our words automatically translated regardless of what we wish?
Ew! A ginger!
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Walter looked to the side for one of his allies to tell him what the hell was going on and why the woman was looking at him.
In Common
"Sorry but no, my friend doesn't speak Skald. I'll translate for him"
In English
"She was just wondering if you spoke Skald. Apparently its pretty unusual to not speak it up here.
She wants our help to rescue her husband from a moss troll, whatever that is. Although at first she aroused my suspicions I now think that she is on the level.
We need allies so I suggest that we help her"
"Oh, Naajy! How could you not know about moss trolls?" Digger trolls.
"Perhaps I should take lessons," Walter said wryly. "I'm happy to help her husband, though. We could do with all the goodwill we can muster."
Tallak lets out a short sigh after everyone chats for a while, stepping forward. In Skald, he says, "My apologies, Sylgja. I am Tallak. These are... Digger, Walter, Naajy, and William," he introduces everyone, indicating them each in turn. "Could I see your husband's axe? Not right for a man to be without his in these lands, I'll give it a good sharpening so it's ready for him when we bring him home."
She approaches Tallack with hands held out. She takes his shoulders and kisses him three times on each cheek, first the left, then the right. Tallak recognizes this greeting as a traditional greeting given to family or very close friends.
"The axe is there, on the hearth..."
William is surprised that he forgot to introduce himself. What is this place doing to my manners? Even in the war, I used to be more polite!
"Let's go find this troll, then, before we rest. The way I recall, we already butted toes with one, just after arriving in this realm. But I'll stay in the rear lines, I've bled enough for one day."
Tallak looks confused for a moment before recovering himself. "You honor me too much, I think, Sylgja. I'm just a ranger." He walls to the hearth and picks up the axe, looking it over before pulling out a whetstone. You can tell a lot about a man by the state of his gear. "You said you tracked the troll back to a cave, yes?" He asks as he makes sure the axe is completely fit for use. "Could you tell me where it is?"
"More than tell, I will show you. I cannot fight a moss troll, but I am no southern flower afraid of cold."
She throws a heavy fur over he green wool cloak and straps snow shoes onto her feet. She hesitates for a moment, as if steeling herself, before throwing the door open and heading into the snow.
Snow begins to fall heavily as you follow her toward a set of low hills only about a mile away. Even from a distance, you can see the dragging footprints leading to and from a small cave mouth with a small stream flowing from it.
Earlier:
"I apologize for my rudeness. I am Naajy and this is my friend Haamid. We're from a long, long way away and have let the strangeness of this place make us uncivil."
Present
"Are you planning on joining us in the cave? Where I come from women are, indeed, southern flowers afraid of the cold. But that is certainly not true here and I'm sure that if you DO join us you'll be a mighty help. But we should tell you, we use strange weapons. [Holds up gun]. Expect loud noises and do not get between this and its target. Its like a bow, but noisier"
Tallak rolls his eyes as he examines the cave, smiling. "Even our flowers are hardier than yours, southlander. But I do not think that a good idea: Haamid, Walter, and I all need to close to melee already." He pulls out his everburning torch and sighs as he realizes something. "Damn, should never have replaced my real torches with a coldflame. We'll need to kill this troll the hard way."
He holds the torch in his shield hand, covering that entire arm with his heavy cloak, and looks to the others. "I will examine the cave mouth first. I've never heard of a troll using traps, but I'd rather the first time I see it not be when I step in a snare."
William snorts at the mention of flower-like women. "You should have met my mother and sisters, Mister Singh. Dire straits and necessity can make even women into tough men."
William cocks the rifle, checking that the ammunition is correctly placed in the clip. "We have that substance from the tower, the alchemical concoction." He rummages through his pockets and the bottomless bag until he grabs the three vials of alchemist's fire. "Am I correct in understanding that these trolls are wounded by steel like we are, but must be finished off through fire?"
Tallak makes his way along the low hill, avoiding sight lines from the opening. A rough stockade of crudely cut logs forms a sort of door, but it gapes open. There is a low burning fire near a pile of furs, and a humanoid of some sort in the pile, snoring loudly. From here it is difficult to make out details in the dim light, and you don't see anyone else.
There are plank bridges and two other stockade door/walls further in.
There are no indications of snares, deadfalls, or any other sort of traps.
Walter scanned the room, searching for signs of the hunter that was probably missing. Hopefully he was behind one of the doors.
Hopefully the door was not to the larder.
There is no indication of anyone here other than the figure under the furs.
Walter conveyed, via gestures, that he and anyone who wished to face the figure beneath the blankets should move in close now. Whether they simply wished to attack and hope for the best...still, he glanced at the woman, on the theory that she would have heard her husband snore often enough.
Tallak sneaks forward, axe at the ready, and carefully draws back the fur to look at the creature beneath.
William stands with the revolver at the ready and the alchemist's fire in the other hand, nodding at Walter and Tallak.
Naajy also draws his gun and readies to unleash the Pussy Cat of Doom
Tallak pulls the fur carefully, exposing the sleeping figure.
"Wait, I'm not sure that this IS a moss troll. Whatever that is. It is NOT what we fought before and I THINK that it is human.
Maybe we should talk to him before just attacking him?"
Sylgja moves into the cave, coming closer to the sleeping figure. She gasps as she realizes the truth. "Fingarth! Foreigners, this is my husband!? But what has happened to him?"
She is clearly confused.
Sir Walter looked to the lady, then to the monster, then to the others in hope of an explanation. Was it time to whallop, or...?
"Could it be some sort of infection?" wonders aloud William, moving to the bed of the man. "I'm not sure what diseases are carried by moss trolls, but maybe there is a remedy."
The doctor starts checking on the conditions of the man.
Fingarth is almost certainly the largest human Dr. Johnson has ever encountered. He is broad shouldered, but not as big as the creature you fought back at the winter portal.
His shoulders and back are covered in a thick grey-green mold unlike anything the doctor has seen before...
Walter had seen some odd things in his time, and picked up a surprising amount of medicine - or at least triage - and gave the giant a once over when he realised this was the man they were looking for.
...it did beg the question - where was the troll?
"I've never seen anything like this. But if it's moss, or mold, sunlight should sterilize it, at least in part. Ultraviolet light is lethal for lesser lifeforms."
"I may not know trolls, but I do know plant life," Tallak rumbles, kneeling down to examine Finagarth's infection, drawing a small knife and scraping up a loose piece of the mold, something not firmly attached to the man himself, in order to examine it.
"Lets see if I can figure something out, shall we?"
With that, Naajy goes up and touches the person and (if allowed) the moss on its back. Trying psychometry on both
And, just in case, he'll try sensitive intuition to see if that gets him a feel for what happened and, more importantly, what can be done about it.
When Naajy brushes his hand across the mold, he feels a sudden burning sensation.
[/dice]
The warmth diminishes in intensity but spreads throughout his body in a pleasant way.
[/ooc]
"This is a strange mold, nothing native to the area that I know of," the ranger says, frowning. "It shouldn't be warm enough for something like this to grow... but maybe that's why it's on a person." He looks up at Naajy as he flicks the sample off his blade and stows the survival knife away again. "Well, city boy, I suppose we will get to see if it's poisonous now, for certain," he quips as he sees the Indian man touch the mold directly. "Didn't anyone tell you not to go around touching strange plants? Nature often bites back in nasty ways, you know."
"Ah, I'm definitely getting an impression from the mold. Its some form of magical symbiote, it acts to strengthen and protect the host in exchange for the host helping to protect it as well. Its quite benign, both parties gain greatly in the process."
With that, he calls Haamid over and places a bit of mold onto the tigers back.
"Its obviously up to you, but I recommend that you all take a bit of the mold. It makes you stronger, resistant to pain, and it can even cure fairly significant wounds and cleanse poisons. I'm not sure exactly how effective it is. Dr Johnson, can I apply some to you? With your medical knowledge you should be better able to gauge how useful it actually is"