"I...I...I don't know how many exactly. I've only seen a few...stinking and stupid."
When Votun asks about what and where are scattered throughout the world, the little fey's eyes go wide as it realizes its mistake. It bites down on its lips and shakes its head...tears streaming from its eyes.
"Spill it, or we see how hard I have to squeeze to make your head pop off."
Continuing in Common, "If you flew through the heart of winter, where is it? And how can it be closed or unspiked?"
"I don't know!"
"I don't have anything to do with that!"
"This is a strange land, I don't know it!!"
"Alright, you keep your head on. Now quiet or I pop it off, or give you to the dwarf to do it. Let's see where the raiders are camped. Look out for traps." Votun starts the group like herding cats toward the goal.
Falling in step behind Votun, "Votun, ask that squealing creature about the fate of Lady Argentea and of the Dansby's...if they have perished, and this creature is culpable in any way, it must pay with it's life....Justice dictates it".
While walking, Votun asks, "Do you know anything about prisoners of the human raiders?"
Colberg slows his pace a bit to fall in step with Kirridell, whispering (though not very quitely), "Well now the little bugger ain't gonna say a thing. Ya say yer gonna pop his head off after he tells ya what ya want ta hear. Five gold says he ain't got nothin ta do with it, 'I just watched it happen' HA!"
Silly priest, ain't know nothin about interrogatin'.
"They took some fancy human lady. I think Teb wanted her...but I don't know for what!"
The extremely tiny fey looks around wildly for a moment, "I don't know what a Dansby is! There's other things that came through the heart of winter than me!!"
"You're starting to be helpful. What's your name?" Votun says to the fey continuing to trudge forward.
"Varsi...I'm called Varsi...kind...human."
"Alright, Varsi. Please keep quiet unless I ask you a question and stay helpful. I promise to let you go in peace when this stuff is over."
"If this Heart of Winter is a gateway to Irrisen, the people here have no idea what they are about to experience. The cold is the least of their worries. Those who serve the witches see humans as prey or slaves, nothing more."
The diminutive fey nods emphatically at Sigrun, touching its nose a few times.
A narrow game trail winds its way through the trees and undergrowth here. Hoofprints mark the underlying snow, leading in both directions.
As you continue along the trail, you spot a stag up ahead. It is gracefully grazing on what sparse grass it can find, but as you progress it notices you and lifts its head up and stares straight at the person in front.
"What do you want here?" a voice issues from the stag.
Jorgo looks at Votun while the old man interrogates the tiny fey.
Heh. The old man looks funny when he tries to be scary. But I guess knowing the language works.
The half-orc cracks his neck «Good, so now it’s finally raiders. No corpses, no bugs, just guys to hit in the head. With an axe. I like that.» Jorgo keeps listening «Of course there’s a troll. It never goes smoothly. Well, here’s to hoping we have enough fire!» Jorgo puts Feyswatter and his axe in their backstraps and takes his place in the rearguard, waiting or the march to proceed.
Nonplussed Votun replies to the stag, "We're looking for some humans captured by raiders working this forest. Would you please direct us to them?"
The stag looks at the group for a moment and then responds, "What kind of people are you, looking for humans captured by raiders? What business is it of mine if some humans take some others?"
Sidling up to Colberg, Kirridell whispers to the Dwarf, "Have you encountered talking animals in your forest before today? Or is this something new?"
So is the Stag talking? Or is this another Fey trick?
Uneasy at the unfolding situation, Kirridell feels for the reassuring weight of his sword at his side....and looks into the trees to the side of the path...Are we alone here...or are we being watched....and taunted?
Jorgo tilts his head, trying to figure out the talking animal «No business of yours, that’s true. Men punish those of their kin who behave badly. That’s a thing for us.»
He gets closer to the stag «Now, we just had a very fun encounter with some pint-sized jokers – they were kind enough to tell us about the bad humans, after some persuasion of our side…»
Jorgo makes his menacing grin shine «I’m sure that, talking stag or hidden trickster or whatever you are, you’ll be just as wise and let us go undisturbed and well informed, wouldn’t you?»
Sigrun's eyes narrow, as her grip tightens on her weapon as the stag speaks.
Kirridell's suspicion reveals nothing that the priest can see.
The stag seems unperturbed by the half-orc's veiled threats. It glances sideways at him, the massive rack of antlers pointing at the group for a moment.
"I've seen humans, and I've seen not-humans. I've seen humans with other humans, I've seen humans alone." A cackle escapes the creature, "I've seen dead humans. I've seen live humans."
The majestic creature looks directly into Jorgo's eyes, "I've also seen a half-orc, though not so ugly as you."
Colberg replies gruffly to the taller elf without breaking his gaze at the stag. ”None as strange as this here fellow, though I met a few, but tis not a story fer now.”
Tryin ta throw me off yer trail, huh witch? I ain’t that dumb. No stag I know would stand idly candid with a big ole orc nearby. Colberg watches as the half-orc sidles towards the stage talking all mean like, Aye, yer gonna goof it ya big oaf, this ain’t no special animal, just a trick. Needs a more tact than that, can’t just be all intimidating like you can to smart folk.
Colberg moves to Jorgo, feet crunching through the snow, he puts his hand on the huge orcs elbow since he can’t quite reach his shoulder comfortably. Whispering under his breath, hopefully low enough for the “stag” not to hear, ”Sumthin’s fishy ‘bout this, let me see if I can handle this ‘fore you crack open an innocent deer’s head.”
Colberg steps in front of Jorgo before he can reply to the deer, hands away from his body, ”Ah got some funny jokes fer an animal, definitely the best one I’ve heard from yer kind. How ‘bout you just don’t mind the big ugly” Colberg tilts his head back indicating Jorgo, “and focus on the little ugly, me,” pointing at himself. ” We could use yer help right about now. What say you?” Colberg moves another step forward.
There are couple of things that Jorgo is sensitive about. Mainly the sharpness of his axe, the sharpness of his wit, and the belief that with enough saltpeter you can solve anything. Comments about his good looks though leave him indifferent.
He pats the long wooden handle of his axe “Sticks” he picks up a rock from the ground “and stones, my furry friend, sticks and stones.” he lets the rock fall and moves the hand away from the axe. “and fire, of course” he adds, since the creatures of this winter seem not to like it.
“At least I’m not eating what I stepped on a few seconds ago. Now would you please stop with the nonsense and tell us what you know about the raiders?”
The dwarf gets no reaction from the stag and nothing speaks to him after his attempts.
As Jorgo gets closer, and the veiled threats become thicker, the stag shakes its head. The back skin, between the shoulders, twitches as though something caused the stag to be itchy. Its nostrils widen and fear comes over the stag's face. His eyes start to become bloodshot and steam escapes through his nostrils as he begins to paw the ground and wildly look at each person as though trying to keep them all in its field of vision.
It doesn't look ready to attack...it looks like it is afraid suddenly. It is no longer peacefully staring back at you.
You notice a feint outline of a creature leaving the stag's back and flying further into the woods.
"It looks like you've frightened it Jorgo" Sigrun says, drawing the Cold Iron longsword.
“I frightened it allright… but I’m not so sure ‘t was him I was talkin’ to just a second ago.”
Jorgo rubs his nose... damn, if only I’d listened when old Marcos talked about arcane stuff…
“Gods dammit! I’m sure I got fooled somehow. This lump of meat ain’t the one who was talkin’ to us… I bet there was someone playing ventriloquist or puppeteer or whatever, hidden in the bushes somewhere. And now it looks like it left us with th’ puppet and no answers!"
"Lady Sigrun, Colberg, can you take a look for weird prints around here? Maybe we get lucky… would be about time today.” he scratches one of the many mosquito bites on his neck.
“So Old man, do we still have a lead, or did our very small friend cooperation stop here?”
Votun checks with the fey, but he thinks he still has good directions.
Sigun scans the area intently, seeking any sign of a hidden presence or disturbance in the environment.
You find a few piles of snow that look like they were knocked off the branches of a few trees...but no prints other than the stag's.
The tiny fey gives many reassurances that you are going the right way.
pressing on.
Colberg nods in agreement with the two big people, "Definitely weren't talkin' ta the stag. See its eyes gone all wide? That's how it should be... afraid of ya Jorgo. Prolly a witch's trick, no how it did it though, first time I seen anything like it. Old man you got any idea how it was doin that talking an stuff?"
As Colberg is listening to Votun's reply he moves about where the stag was and the immediate area surrounding it.
"Hmmm, well I don't see no signs of anything around here 'sides the stag. I guess our only choice is ta follow the munchkin's directions."
"Over there, the snow looks as if it was knocked off the trees. Whatever it was might be able to fly"
"Over there, the snow looks as if it was knocked off the trees. Whatever it was might be able to fly"
"Like tiny fey... Let's go."
A human-sized snowman stands in the middle of the trail before a frozen stream. A crude wooden sign leans against it and bears the words “Trespassers Turn Back.”
You detect faint illusion and evocation magic coming from the snowman.
You notice that the snowman has something odd about it...your senses tingle and something tells you that this is a trap of some sort.
Votun casts Detect Magic. He gets within 30-feet and shoots the snowman with a ray of frost.
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As Votun motions for the others to stop for a moment, he concentrates on the snowman. He chuckles a bit as he gleans whatever information he does and walks to be thirty feet from it. He raises his hand, looks back at the group, and makes some exaggerated swoops. A ray bursts forth from him and slams into the snowman, which knocks the top half off.
As the ray gets close to it, the snowman seems to say, "Can’t you read? The sign says turn back! Now get lost!"
When the ray topples the snowman, a frustrated scream erupts from it at a pitch just under the pain threshold. Surely, had you been standing any closer it would have seriously hurt a person.
Just beyond the now defunct snowman, a solid sheet of ice extends across the frozen stream, while snow-covered rocks line its banks.
There are weakened spots on the ice which is also very slippery. Caution must be used if walking across this frozen surface.
You see two darker shadows moving around under the ice.
Votun proffers, "There are weakened spots on the ice which is also very slippery. Caution must be used if walking across this frozen surface. "
“Good catch, Old man… seemed solid to me at a first glance!” comments Jorgo “We really don’t want to fall in there. With the chilling water locking up your muscles and breath, you’ll be easy lunch for the fish or whatever – I think I see something moving under the ice.
Jorgo looks around “It’s not that far… I guess we can fasten a rope to a tree on the other side, just to be sure. I don’t know, do you happen to have a small telekinetic spell ready, Votun? Or maybe the bird can lift the noose up on a sturdy branch?” Jorgo looks at his companions “If any of you is good with a bow, we can try that route too, I guess…
"I do not have any telekinetic abilities prepared today. Munin could carry and wedge a grappling hook in a tree across the ice, but certainly could not tie a knot."
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Survival
Perception