Seeing the movement of the trees, Igmar instinctively begins calling a warning, which turns into a now-familiar battle hymn.
The trees move to grab Yagello's arms in an attempt to restrain him.
Yagello feints in one direction, and the trees clumsily grasp in the direction he appeared to be moving. The fir in front of him roars in an incomprehensible language in frustration.
I am the arrow, I am the arrow, I am the arrow...
Finally with his feet planted, bow in hand, and a prayer on his lips Cervin starts whipping out arrows at the small treants.
One of Cervin's arrows seems to get lodged in the tree's thick bark, but the second penetrates deeply, and the tree howls in pain this time.
Igmar moves forward, continuing to sing. Hesitating, he reaches to his belt and grabs one of the flasks hanging there.
Gripping the haft of his axe, Daegan shifts his weight lower and turns his body as he swings, giving some weight to his blow. He grunts with approval as it seems to strike true.
Still holding the scroll in one hand, Arkady flicks his fingers, sending a blob of acid flying.
,
Yagello spins out of the trees' grasp and turns to face his enemies once again. With a heavy heart at attacking forest beings, he swings his blade mightily at whatever tree is still standing.
The roaring tree falls silent as Daegan's axe cleaves the near tree nearly in two. The sticky sap leaves the half-orc's axe with a deep amber hue.
Arkady's orb of acid hits the boughs of the second tree. As the tree whirls toward the wizard to determine the source, Yagello slices into the bark while the creature is distracted.
Screaming with an unnatural sounding scream, the fir whirls and retaliates upon Yagello.
The last thing Yagello remembers before blacking out is the sting of the needles just before the full force of the branch hits.
Cervin groans as Yagello falls under the force of the mighty branch. However, he keeps his feet and concentration as he whips out arrows at the remaining treant.
Arkady watches as Yagello goes down. He moves over to Daegan and touches him on the shoulder. "That hit looked solid, it can't have much left in it! Desna, guide this man's hand!"
Diviner's Fortune +1 (Sp) Creature touched gains +1 insight bonus to attack rolls, skill checks, ability checks, and saving throws for 1r.
Cervin's shafts bite deeply into the bark of the remaining tree, and it collapses to the ground before Daegan has a chance to strike again.
Unseen until now, the same crow calls down from a well-positioned vantage point, and takes off again into the sky, headed away from the party. After a few flaps, the clearing grows silent once more. The majority of the party are unharmed, but Yagello is unconscious on the ground.
Cervin heads over to Yagello's side and then looks hopefully over to Daegan.
"Anything left? What a miserable place this forest is."
Daegan nods to Cervin as he hurries over, fishing out his holy symbol and holds it with both hands over Yagello's chest. Eyes closed and brow furrowed, Daegan begins his familiar healing practices.
Gorum, heal him. We have fallen many a time, and for that I am sorry. But he is a formidable warrior; one worthy of the chance to fight again.
Once he's finished, Daegan looks over his shoulder at Cervin. "I'm glad that we're stopping here. My last spell is dedicated in service of Gorum, and I cannot use it for any more healing. Another fight would be unfortunate."
Cervin reaches down a gloved hand to help Yagello up, grinning. "You shoulda seen the other guy."
Yagello opens his eyes painfully, hearing the end of Daegan's prayer to Gorum. He feels a soreness mainly in his chest, and he still shivers once he starts feeling the cold in his face again, but his head seems remarkably clear from aches and pains.
Yagello slowly rises, gratefully taking Cervin's outstretched arm. "Thank you friends, I seem to be spending more time face down on this mission than anything else!"
Getting his bearings now, he looks over the ruined bodies of the frost firs. He whispers almost to himself, "We did what had to be done..."
Yagello's expression then lightens and he says with a half-grin, "Let's try this again! Everyone ready to set down for the night!"
There is an abundance of dead wood about, making it easy to start a fire. And despite the sudden attack, Yagello's initial impression of the campsite rings true. The trees provide shelter from the wind, and the pine needle floor means that there is a temporary break from the snow at the party's feet.
Arkady lets Rom look around while he helps gather firewood and make camp. "Any chance we can get things warmed up enough to help Yagello stop shivering?"
As the party looks around for additional firewood, Arkady cannot help but notice the dead frost firs. Their sticky sap coating would make them difficult to handle, but they would certainly feed the fire for a long time.
"Yagello, I can't help but notice these firs that attacked us ... the sap might make them hard to handle, but I bet they'd keep a good fire going for a while. Possibly even enough to break that chill you've had all day."
Cervin makes a face. "A little gruesome. Hopefully their kin don't come for revenge on us. But honestly, we have bigger issues to deal with and some warmth will help tremendously."
With that he starts moving the frostfir corpses near the fire to get turned into firewood.
Daegan grimaces at the thought of burning the things. Even if they were the attackers, it seems cruel to use a corpse in such a way. He looks towards Yagello, and helps to move them if the man gives his consent. He'll also loan his axe for any chopping, but will not do the deed himself, and any attempt to convince him to will be met with a stern glare.
Before the group beds down for the night, Daegan spends the last of his divine power to heal Yagello some more.
Hopefully this will last us until the morning...
Yagello's face also contorts into a grimace, and he considers the situation for a moment. He finally relents, "Good hunters consume all of their prey, leaving nothing for waste. If these beings can provide us with some warmth tonight, maybe some good can still come out of their wretched existences."
Respecting Daegan's beliefs, he takes the axe out of the man's hands and does most of the grisly work himself. When finished, he cleans the weapon very carefully before returning it to the cleric.
Cervin picks a spot that seems relatively dry of the sweet-smelling sap, and begins to move the trees near the fire. The sap seems to ooze all over the tree, though, and Cervin tries to drag the tree quickly to the fire.
After Cervin successfully drags the corpses near the fire, Yagello makes quick work of their remains with Daegan's axe, however he needs to be exceedingly careful not to get too much of the sap on him.
Through the process of transferring the firewood to the fire, Yagello gets more of the sticky sap on his hands than he would have liked. The sap also seems to stick stubbornly to Daegan's axe, despite Yagello's attempt to clean the substance off.
Once in the fire, the frost firs remains burn brightly and quickly, making it easy to get a large fire roaring.
The party warms near the fire for the night, and while they are not attacked by animals or fey, the crow appears again once in the early light of the morning, flying off as soon as it is noticed. Yagello still has the sticky sap on his hands, and a persistent cough. Arkady's cough, meanwhile, has gotten much worse. The Varisian wizard has also developed some sort of fever, sweating profusely in the early morning light.
Cervin does his best to tend to Arkady and Yagello after he starts noticing symptoms. Scowling at the sap that seems to cover everyting in the campsite.
"Even a good campsite like this is a stern test. I fear it will only get worse. Stay strong. Is there anything we have that can treat this sap? We can't burn it off without throwing Yagello in the fire and scraping it off is useless."
During the night, Arkady begins to sweat as his fever rises. He tosses and turns as if from bad dreams, and suddenly wakes up shouting, "Rom!"
As he sits up, he looks around frantically for his familiar, not seeing the hare. It takes Cervin several minutes to calm him down enough to attempt to help him, but even once he has his bearings, he is still concerned for his missing companion.
"This is *not* a good omen. I can feel his presence, but he's gone off somewhere."
As the group does their morning preparations, Arkady studies his spellbook despite the distraction of his missing familiar. He immediately casts the spell to ward off the unnatural cold, but it does nothing to stop the symptoms he already has.
"I'm afraid my training does not include such things as this sap." The wizard looks over it for any signs of magical original, not expecting to find anything.
"Ahh! This infernal sap is getting on everything! At this rate, I'm going to need all new gear and clothes when we get back to town!"
"I've seen sap like this before in nature, though. Some oil or strong spirits should help get it off my hands and skin at least. Does anyone have any supplies like that?"
Despite his complaining about the sap and his persistent cough, Yagello looks more confident this morning. The fire did him well, and he has stopped shivering from the magical cold.
"Do you have any of that applejack you found on the hunter before? I have no idea if there was enough to be useful there, if you watered it a bit."
Cervin perks up. "Right! I think we only took a couple of drinks. Let's give that a shot."
The remainder of the applejack in the dead hunter's flask is just enough to dissolve the majority of the sap. Although enough remains to serve as a minor irritant to Yagello, he can now move and handle his gear without having to struggle.
"Well, I'm glad for that. I would hate to have impeded you, Yagello. Movement is already difficult enough with all this snow."
Daegan peers down the edge of his axe, and grunts with satisfaction. "Thankfully, it does not seem like it will blunt the blade. Though I would like to get it removed as soon as possible... perhaps we'll happen across some more alcohol, hm?"
The half-orc casts his eyes about, looking for any signs of rabbit tracks.
"Should we set out looking for Rom, Arkady? Or will he find his way back to us?"
The Varisian gives a wry smile. "Have you ever tried to find a small white rabbit in the snow? No, we'll just have to wait for him to find us. Let's just ..." He starts to shake uncontrollably. Once it passes, he finishes, "... get moving."
As Arkady gathers his belongings, he stumbles several times. Finally, he asks, "Is there any chance one of you would like to wear this heavy coat, or else could roll it up and put it in your pack? With my spell, I don't feel the cold, and these shakes are making it hard for me to move carrying it."
After packing up, the party continues along the train in the snow down the ridge and into the valley below. The snow continues to fall to the ground, but the well-worn trail is still easy to follow.
Just before reaching the valley floor, Yagello halts the group silently. Bloody animal tracks mark the snow where the trail descends from the ridge above. There are no creatures of any kind in sight.
The party does not notice anything amiss, but Arkady silently calls for everyone to halt, remembering something.
Arkady goes through his pack and find's Dryden Kepp's journal. After a particularly intense shaking period ends, he flips through the hunter's journal until he finds the passage he is looking for. The hunter had laid some bear traps to catch the giant weasel, and he had drawn a crude map of his plans to catch the weasel. Arkady looks ahead, and realizes the scribbles along the side of the journal are in fact the distinctive boulders to one side of the trail, and the steep ridge on the other side. On the map are clearly mapped X's, indicating the position of the traps.
Yagello gives Arkady a healthy slap on the shoulder. "You have good eyes, my friend! Excellent work on finding those bear traps. With everything else going on, I would hardly want to lose a leg here as well!"
He also turns to the rest of the group, his expression now more serious. "Everyone be on guard. Judging from these bloody tracks, Kepp's giant weasel is not far from here. Though I wonder if perhaps we should track the animal down just to put it out of its misery. If it's gravely injured, I would hate to see it suffering needlessly."
Igmar woke up that morning with a smile on his face and cheery tune on his lips. He felt stronger for some reason, and ready to take on whatever the day threw their way.
I know that we're in a dire situation, but things seem to be looking up. We are working for good, and we're succeeding!
Igmar hummed as they packed up camp, smiling at his companions and trying to bolster their spirits with a rousing dwarven song or two—particularly Arkady, who was noticeably shaken by the loss of his beloved pet.
Igmar's spirits stayed high as the party set out for the day, and even the sight of the bloody tracks did not dampen his mood. At Arkady's warning, he pulled his shield off his back, ready for whatever would come their way.
Cervin takes Arkady's winter gear and after a moment has it packed up.
"These are dark times - I'll be happy to share your burden. Let's go. Hopefully Rom is near."
Cervin trails at the back of the party, trying to notice the missing rabbit but with little luck. He finally stops at Arkady's behest and he moves up to check over the map.
"I'm never one to say not to a hunt, but let's see how close it may be."
Checking over the map to ensure he doesn't get his foot clamped off, Cervin moves over to the tracks to inspect them.
A sudden sense of warning comes over Arkady, and he calls the party to halt. Digging out Kepp's journal, he finds the page with the description of the giant weasel. As he points out the landmarks to the others, he once again gets the feeling of being watched. Letting Cervin check the visible tracks, he backs off, looking around.
Near the base of a tree, barely visible against the snow, a small white creature sits quietly, intently watching the Varisian. A spark of memory, or of a past vision, comes to him, and he kneels down in the snow, his illness momentarily forgotten. The creature, with a long body and short legs, moves through the snow toward him. As he reaches out toward it, his eyes glaze over ...
* - & - *
The snow on the ground is no longer the intense snow of the unseasonable winter in Taldor, but a more natural snow like that found in northern Varisia. Sounds of people laughing and singing come from a short distance away. Looking up, he realizes he is with his clan, as camp is being picked up to prepare for the morning's travel.
"Well, child. You have certainly found your way into destiny, haven't you?"
He turns toward the voice. "...Bunica? Grandmother, is that you?"
"Look again, child."
He blinks, and realizes that it is not his grandmother, but her own mother, passed over to Desna over a decade ago.
This is a dream. But is it the fever of the bandits' illness taking me, or a genuine vision? Has Great-mother Tsura actually come to me?
"We have little time, my child. Listen to me. When you chose this path of magic, your bunica helped you learn our ways of telling the future, and so bound you to Brother Hare. You have done well, but now you must remember other lessons. Before you found the way of magic, you learned at my knee. Our people have talents and skills given us by Desna herself, and the dispensation to use them as they are needed for the greater good of the People, and the world. You are now on a path where those skills are needed, and you must recall them well.
"To help you with this, Brother Hare has agreed to release you from his service, and allow you to enter the service of Sister Stoat. Accept her, and learn from her."
With that, the vision fades into darkness.
* - & - *
Arkady blinks, and realizes that only a few heartbeats have actually passed. The ermine sits in front of him. He holds out his hand, and it climbs up his arm, settling in around his shoulders.
"Welcome, Sister Stoat. I accept your offer. I shall call your servant Tsuritsa, in honor of my Great-mother. May we achieve greatness together. Now, what can you tell us of your fabled giant kin?"
Even through the fog of the illness, Arkady feels stronger and more prepared for what is to come. Though weak, he still smiles for the first time that day, and goes to see what Cervin may have found.
Cervin takes a close look at the tracks. There is freshly fallen snow obscuring many of them, so he estimates that they were from four or five days ago, actually older than the ones near Dryden's body. It's fairly obvious to Yagello that these are the same giant weasel tracks as before, as they lead back up the ridge.
The two figure the weasel muse have gotten trapped at this point, and then hunted Dryden up the ridge, taking it behind the party somewhere. Both silently hope that the weasel does not decide to return to the valley, where the trail leads.
The party is startled from their planning when the crow caws once more, watching the from a safe distance.
"It might be wise to track the beast—I certainly wouldn't want it sneaking up on us. We've had bad luck with things surprising us before. I can offer some assistance tracking, anyway."
"Oh no you -don't-!"
Cervin eyes the crow and snaps off a shot from his bow, which just buries itself into a tree.
"I hate that thing. I've already learned my lesson about going off course to chase fantastic animals, but I must say I'm tempted. Also, this thing sounds extremely dangerous and I'd rather it not get the jump on us."
Even though Cervin's arrow misses by a wide margin, the crow takes off into the air at the sign of aggression, and disappears past the trees after a few moments.