Bugsby looks from the weasel to the tree's doubtfully, "Tree'sdon'tnormallygnawlimbsoff...dothey?" he asks with some uncertainty. He's careful to avoid the saplings, removing his snowshoes if need be, lamenting the crushed ones.
If it did that, then wha' killed it? Lachna asked, looking a bit doubtfully at the weasel.
Kalt studies the scene for a moment, then says, "Well, it seems unlikely it would have chewed off both its feet. But if it somehow stepped into the trap with both of them, it would need to do that to get away. In any case, it didn't work out for it, did it? As to what killed it - losing both paws could have caused it to bleed out, but I don't think that's what happened here. Let's see if I can follow the blood trail and figure out where he died and how he got here."
Kalt looks in the snow for a blood trail leading to the dead weasel, or other signs of whoever brought it here.
Looking on from outside the area, Ankih slowly unties his snowshoes and reties them to his pack. He doesn't enter the area, not wanting to trample any more tree-kin young, and not really interested or helpful when it comes to animal corpses.
the pelt looks nice but I wouldn't know where to begin to salvage it. I wonder if this is just another ambush distraction or trap to waylay the unwary.
He will adjust his grip on his shield and glance around warily...
Kalt follows the tracks a few hundred feet away and finds a second scene of chaos. Two serrated steel bear traps lay clamped around bone and sinew, the remains of two paws. Also strewn about are splinters of two more treekin, having literally be torn apart in battle. Now knowing what to look for, Kalt identifies another small collection of saplings, some crushed, growing near the remains of their parents. Examining the trail of blood and the various prints, it seems as if the weasel encroached on the treekin's area and set about trying to remove the traps from it's legs, only to be attacked by the trees defending their young. Once the weasel was defeated, the traps were forcibly removed from its feet and it was carried back to the central area where the party found it.
Kalt leads the group back to the main trail and deeper into the Border Woods. The trail twists and turns, heading toward a valley. As you near the entrance, the path opens wide into a clearing where dozens of boulder sized chucks of ice litter the landscape. Further beyond them the roof of a strange hut can be seen.
As you look at the boulders, a flash of movement catches your eye. A young girl, no more than 7, shivers in the cold. Her sapphire blue eyes stare past you and her flaxen hair is matted and disheveled. She is dressed in naught but a blue and white dress and kerchief. No sooner do you see her till she's gone, fleeing deeper into the maze of ice.
Sven dashes after the small girl, entering the maze of ice. To the north he sees her, on her knees with her hands over her head, as if to ward off an unseen blow. "I'm sorry! Don't hurt me! I never meant to call you names!" she cries. Then her blue eyes refocus and she looks at Sven with confusion washing over her face.
The young girl looks at Sven while he speaks, a tear cleaning a line down her dirty face, "The White Witch, Nazhena Vasilliovna!" barely gets out before she fades from view.
Suddenly, she materializes to the southwest, crouching down, hands seeming to grasp invisible bars. "Please don't keep me here. It's so cold. I miss my mother!" she calls out to unseen captors. Then, she looks to the group, already beginning to disappear again.
" I am not sure my friend, if it is a ghost, setting things right for it may help it, but I'm not sure if that is what it is..."
Ankih replies in a huff of breath, breathing hard from trying to keep up with Sven.
"Flee the witches power! Runaway!" she calls, the last syllable fading in a gust of wind. A moment later, she appears again, this time holding something seen only by her. "I don't want your stupid doll! I want to go home! Please, take me back!" the specter pleads to her captors. She turns to head deeper into the maze, looking back for a moment.
Lachna's face turns from one of concern to an open snarl at the mention of witches. A throaty growl, low and primal, can be heard coming from deep in her chest. She looks like she's about to chase after the girl, but instead she just draws her weapon and looks around suspiciously.
"We must go enter the maze to find her," Avora suggests. "Please! We have to help her!"
Bugsby has just watched the girl with open fascination, not fully comprehending what she was doing but clearly envious of her ability. So mystified is he that several questions enter his mind, and he is having trouble deciding which one to ask first. His little mouth opening and closing several times as questions flit quickly through his thoughts.
Kalt keeps a close eye on the girl, taking care to look at her tracks so he'll be able to recognize them in the maze. He stays quiet as the others ask their questions, focused on listening for any unpleasant surprises.
The young ulfen girl seems puzzled for a moment over the memories Sven’s question causes. ”I was kept in a cage in her tower in Whitethrone. The last thing I remember is being brought to her for a ritual.” She then looks behind her before calling out, ”I have to get away! You should too, before they come for you. RUN!!!” As she speaks her final phrase, a dark shadow looms over the girl, seemingly unseen by her. As she yells for the group to run, the darkness crashes over her and swallows her up. Her flesh melts away and her skull rises in the darkness before rushing through the party, sending a chill far worse than the weather up your spines.
The entire group feels a wave of fear come over them, panicking them for a few moments. Most of the group recovers quickly enough, however Avora and Bugsby keep seeing the girl melting before their eyes and hearing her chilling voice telling them run.
Avora, unable to clear the terrifying vision from her eyes, runs blindly forward.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHH!!!!!" the gnomes little voice trails off as he sprints as fast as his little legs will carry him. Lucky for him, everyone in the group is faster than he, and so it isn't difficult to catch him up.
Kalt darts after Avora, moving as quickly as he can to try to catch up with her. As he moves, he says "The girl leaves no footprints! She's not real! She may be a trick of the witch - do not go near her if she appears again!"
Chilled to the bone, fearful of what he just saw, Ankih falls to his knees in prayer.
" Blessed be Milady. Protect us from such Specters."Is all he gets out before he hears Sven's call to stop. Looking up in confusion he sees Kalt and Sven chasing after Avora and Bugsby.
" I am fine Sven, just shaken. Tho I daresay Bugsby has lost his mind. And possibly Avora as well."
Rising to his feet he glances around to check on the others.
That poor girl, to have suffered so, that she becomes such a phantasm.
" I don't believe it was a ghost, more a phantasm, or spectral memory...."
At Sven's mention of a hut nearby, the group looks around and some 50' away a small hut stands on four legs, each one a single tree truck whose gnarled roots resemble the toes of a giant chicken. the hut is constructed of heavy logs with a patchwork roof of shaved bark shingles. Inside the huts open doorway, a small figure sits on a carved wooden chair, staring across the clearing towards where your trail entered the area.
Bugsby casts detect magic in the direction of the hut, and takes a few shuffling steps behind Kalt and Sven, not liking the look of the hut one little bit. "Looksscary!" he states, heart still racing from the effects of the fear.
The druid looks about, trying to get a feel for her surroundings. "I can tell you this," she says softly, "I don't like the looks of this."
" Looks rather.....Odd? Surely not a good thing here. A hut with chicken legs... It seems I've heard of this before, but I can't remember where or when...Oh well....I wonder if that is the doll the ghostly girl was referring to?"
Ankih looks on, not as scared as Bugsby, but definitely not happy with what's here.
"I've heard of it before, too, Ankih, in tales that my grandfather used to tell me about the old country. That is, Irrisen. He said the Witches of Irrisen use huts and guardians to protect their borders. They post them every so often along the terrain to keep a watchful eye on who comes and goes."
"He also told me tales of such a hut that belonged to the Winter Queen, Baba Yaga, a witch of terrible temper and great power. I was told that she would eat children who became lost in the woods or who were disobedient."
In his quick mode of speech, Busby relates with wide eyes what his magical senses are telling him. The hut itself does not radiate magic, but the small figure is a swirling chaos of potent necromantic, enchantment, and conjuration magics.
"Anyonedothat'Seeifshe'sevil'-thingy?" he asks nervously.