Avora takes a moment to catch her breath before trying to rise.
Sven's final blow ends the outsider's twisted existence; he separates the body and head, and it falls heavily onto the snowy ground. The putrid steam rising from the creature's wounds forms bits of frost in night sky as the body cools. The battle, it seems, is won.
In the following minutes, several cries of anguish come from various parts of the camp, signs of the andrazaku's package through the camp. One this is clear, though: it is the party that the creatures hunted. The demon tracks are soon located; they suddenly appear on the edge of the camp and lead directly towards the heroes. Demonic assassins, Kostchtchie hounds, bound to their purpose.
-----------------------------------------------------
Some time later, Chief Korak Kaag approaches the group, respectful yet clearly much better armed then when first encountered around the campfire; axe and spear are now slung across his back.
"It seems you have brought the war with you, even if it was not your intent. I would ask that you leave in the morning, as soon as you have finished resupplying; I would not have my people harmed any further in this battle" He snorts dramatically. "But I am not without honor. My daughter will still lead you to the canyon where you will find the monuments of the Three Watchers; from there, however, your fate is your own." His face seems hard, and indicates that these words are more instruction then request.
Ankih hesitates just long enough for the Warriors to drop the demons, then heals Avora some. He will then proceed to heal the othrs as needed, remarking on the need for a full nights rest and study and prayer time.
Out of spells he uses his remaining scrolls to help Avora.
And then pulls out his wand to aid Shanya.
Korak nods in appreciation of Sven's direct response. "Those giants who sell themselves to the Deathless Frost" he responds, using a colorfully descriptive name for Kostchtchie, "take their blood sacrifice themselves - and alive, from what I have seen. I've never seen or heard of their priests sending demons against the my kind." He seems genuinely troubled the the implications.
He stomps on the ground. "But ask a priest. I have my hands full enough with plagues, fey and giants. I have no time for outer realms or the mad inhabitants from them. Yes, if they come we'll send them right back to the abyss!"
The chief roars the last claim, and several of the burlier females and males of the tribe roar in agreement.
The rest of the night passes uneventfully, and Erdija is ready early in the morning with bedding furs and foodstuffs in her saddlebags and her great longbow slung across her back.
Shanya doesn't say a word as the centaur chieftain commands them to leave once they're resupplied. She can't exactly blame him for his reaction.
The group gets moving again in the late morning again after concluding their bartering, led by Korak Kaag's daughter Erdija. She proves to be a skilled strider, although Avora has ample opportunity to counsel the centaur on some of the subtler points of plant lore. Unlike the bare and foreboding woods of Irrisen, the Hoofwood is a vibrant and vital land with plentiful signs of birds, elk, fae, stoat, badger, hare and bear. The plagues that afflict the humanoid races of this land seem to have little impact on lower orders of life.
After two days of travel, the woods thin and the rolling low hills of the eastern steppes can be be seen in the distance. However, the group turns north and begins to descend into what seems like an endless scar in the earth: the Deeprun Crevasse. The flora turns to thorny scrub, while goats and birds nervously eye the party from a distance. The ground seems to be frozen through here, and kindling becomes scarce.
A day of travel into this foreboding landscape, the group comes across a lone rider in the distance, who turns to approach the group at great speed. It is easily seen that the creature rides upon some manner of great elk rather then a horse. However, it is Avora's keen eyes that makes out that the very rider is well removed from human. He is a figure clad in a dark blue plate mail with antlers rising from his head, and he holds some sort of menacing polearm in his hands..
Perception
(+2 in cold, mountains, underground from Kalt)
Ankih Tohep
Avora Teremocles (+3 in cold, +2 in natural settings)
Greta
Kalt Ìsson (+4 cold, underground; +2 mountains)
Lana Shahakh
Shanya (+4 v. traps)
Sven Bjornson
Initiative
(+2 in cold, mountains, underground from Kalt)
Ankih Tohep
Avora Teremocles (+3 in cold)
Greta
Kalt Ìsson (+4 cold, underground; +2 mountains)
Lana Shahakh
Shanya
Sven Bjornson
Rider
Erdija
"A cold rider," Avora whispers. "They are vulnerable to fire and spells that cause things to break. They are said to be partially made of ice."
Shanya narrows her eyes and readies her rapier for battle!
Her hand is visibly trembling.
The creature brings up it's mount short briefly and reaches out its hand. Although still some distance away , the more keen eyed can see that the gauntlets encasing its hands seem to end in icy talons - out of the clear sky, a storm of ice rains down upon your head!
physical plus cold
Great bounds off attempting to get off the ice and close to the creature, while Erdija lets a pair arrows fly - both fall well short of the target.
A cold rider you say?"
With a complex gesture, a small red bead of light streaks out to the rider, exploding in a sphere of fire.
" Feel Sarenrae's touch!"
Kalt curses as the icy blocks pummel him, then moves quickly along with Sven. He draws his blade as they hustle across the ice-tumbled ground, commenting, "Folks in this part of the world have a hell of a way of saying hello."
Lana begins to do what she can to offset the others' injuries.
Avora scowls and joins the others in moving forward.
Most of party attempts to close the distance, while Ankih launches retaliatory magic of his own. Even though both elk and rider dodge the brunt of the blast, it seems that both handle the fire poorly. The elk slightly staggers under the heat - it seems it too is a creature of ice and does not suffer the heat well.
Shanya grits her teeth, powers through the ice storm and keeps going.
The creature hisses in delight at the sport the group offers. It begins to close the distance, icy glaive in hand - it is clear that he holds it with a warriors skill.
It begins a sing-song chant of a battle song in a sylvan that is dripping with icy malice - although at first the words can hardly be heart due to the great distance. As the elk charges it snorts great clouds of frost that float into the sky.
Seeing the opportunity to strike, Greta races ahead of the group; however, she attacks the elk, rather then the rider, instinctively trying to pull the creature down. Her bite latches onto the creatures legs. She gives and great tugs, and the elk collapses, despite it's tremendous bulk! The pair begin to tumble, but with the unearthly grace of the fey the cold rider merely lands on it's feet. Closer now, one can faintly hear it hurling hateful threats in sylvan at the wolf.
Erdija shoots again, twice. With the shrinking range and the creatures reckless charge, one arrow hits, but it doesn't seem to slow the fey much. In fact, its previous wounds seem to be slowly healing, growing like frost in the cold air over the rends in its armor.
plus cold
Lana hurries forward as well, extending her spirit to Kalt as she moves.
Kalt continues to move swiftly across the cold ground, pausing briefly to enchant his blade to strike harder.
Avora presses forward towards the cold rider.
"Virak!" with a short word and a flick of his wrist Ankih sends three bolts of force into the fel rider.
Avora almost closes the distance to the beast with her determined and nimble movements. Meanwhile, chunks of ice splinter off the creature as salvo of force missiles hit its frigid body.
Sven and fleet-footed Lana continue to plod towards the battle, while Kalt advances to withing charging distance.
Shanya keeps going, allowing herself a smirk as the rider is thrown from his mount.
Shanya's smirk dies upon her lips - the creature whispers the forgotten words for to a forgotten fey magic and a misty stream issues from the creatures pale-blue lips. It coalesces and forms into an ethereal steed. It quickly mounts upon the beast, gallops back and whirls its mount about; it is clearly readying to charge down upon the approaching druidess. The skin of the creature knits up a small amount, again.
The elk attempts to find its feet and drive it's antlers into the she wolf as it does so. Greta snaps at it as it rises - but the bite breaks the creatures thick hide, while the antlers. A white energy wreathes the creatures antlers horns as it strikes - were she not a creature of cold herself, the would would be even more grievous. She lets out a small, involuntary whimper of pain.
Erdija unleashes another pair of arrows at the rider, which fall short.
The riders words can be heard clearly floating through the taiga now, although the words are in the native tongue of the fey.
(Sylvan)"I am the end of you, mortals. I will mix the bare snow with your blood; I will hang your bones among the branches; and it will be a thing of beauty"
plus cold
+
"I am the end of you, mortals. I will mix the bare snow with your blood; I will--"
Shanya rolls her eyes and pointedly cuts the rider's threat off. "Blah blah blah blah blah I'm going to try to kill you and get carved to pieces because I was dumb enough to attack seven people at once. Shut the f#$*ing hell up and fight."
She glares at the rider and gets ready to strike. Gap in its armour at the calf. Aim for that spot.
Kalt moves quickly up to Avora's side, saying "We hold the line here." He raises his blade, focuses on the cold rider a moment, and awaits the charge.
Hearing Greta's whimper, Ankih notices finally, that he and his allies are all injured.
With difficulty, he tries to get to the others.
Shanya and Kalt prepare for the looming charge of the rider, while Ankih and Sven race closer.
Avora does as Kalt instructed and holds the line.
Lana continues forward, extending her spirit to Greta next.
The cold rider seethes with rage at Shanya's taunts; choosing her as the next target, he charges.
"The warmth of breathe I will tear from your lips, mortal!" He screams an inhuman, hollow scream as he bears down upon the changeling - but in spite of it all, she manages to twist and dodge the lance as he sails past her. Shanya's and Kalt's blades both bite at the icy plate mail as the Cold Rider moves past, but Avora's spear bobs just a bit low. He whirls in the snow thirty feet past the heroes and considers his next target with his pale blue-grey eyes. The riders seems to slowly bleed flowing water from the marks upon his mail - it seems to be as much a part of his body as human flesh.
The great elk circles and kicks at Greta; she snaps back, but neither lands a blow. Erdija, however, finally lands arrow solidly into the side of the cold rider; he grunts in surprise but keeps his saddle.
"A fine plan, Bjornson," Kalt says as he moves quickly toward the rider. He stops a bit short of his foe, extending his arms and leaning into the strike, and drives the point of his blade deep into the rider's side.
Shanya, high off her success at dodging the rider's charge, races alongside Kalt. She gets closer to the rider than Kalt does before attempting to stab the rider in the same spot as before.
Seeing that Kalt has the rider well in hand, Avora moves to help Greta against the elk.
(total damage 34 if crit confirms)
Lana moves forward again, but staggers as the weight of the groups' wounds hit her. "No... keep going..." she mutters, whispering words of strength.
Kalt, Lana and Shanya all close upon the rider at once, fury in their spears and blades. Cracks appear as Kalt and Lanas blades find their mark, and the spear drives through the beast and explodes into a through glittering mirrors, reflecting the faces of the heroes. Erdija gives a hoot of victory from the back in celebration. "Good fight! Mighty heroes!"
Its master gone, the elk panics and starts to flee, only to be run down by Greta who ends the creatures life. The worg wastes no time in enjoying her feast.
The remains of the fey slowly melt away into water, but a few baubles remain.
****************************
The rest of the journey through the next day proves much more peaceful; word spread among the unseelie of these wilds and they give the group a wide berth indeed.
As the group marches on, distant mountains begin to resolve into more distinctive shapes. It is mid afternoon when a final hill is crested to reveal an awe-inspiring sight. Wispy clouds race across the gleaming blue sky overhead, but the floor of the crevasse lies in shadow, the sunlight blotted out by the massive cliffs on either side. Gray grasses and scraggly trees poke through drifts of ice and snow, weaving their way through black boulders that lie at the base of the towering cliffs. Crudely carved into the face of these cliffs, several miles apart, stand three impossible sculptures that each rise over half a mile in height. Each carving depicts a naked humanoid woman holding forth a warning hand. The first resembles a young maiden with flowing hair, the second depicts a pregnant matron, and the third a stooped and withered crone.
Erdija turns to the group, and lays a hand upon each of your chests in turn in salute. "I leave. Stay here, no" She shakes her head to indicate her reluctance to stay. "Be strong, be careful." the chieftan's daughter offers in support.