Nadya goes through the impromptu camp with Kalt, showing him the various ways she plans to keep the weather out and the warmth in. He even picks up a few tricks of the trade for use at a later time. "Are you a woodsman in your land?" she asks, "Not many can keep up with me in these matters."
The forlarren laughs, like chimes blowing in the wind, over the Gnomes question. "Of course little one. You will find many of the non-humans in this land have taken on this coloration. It both protects us from the cold, and aides in any stealth we try in avoiding the wintery beasts of the land. My name is Mierul, a wandering minstrel. You, as I hear, are not of this land. What will you do now that you have come to this winter wonderland? I am sure your trip here would make a wondrous tale. Perhaps you can tell it to me in a bit more depth than your friend."
As the group gathers near, Ankih notices the wounds on the humanoids and the horses.
He bursts with healing energy, holding the Dawnflower's symbol aloft.
" Dawnflower Bless."
Kalt is clearly intrigued with what Nadya has to show him of survival in the frozen lands of Irrisen, and responds to her questions more openly than he might normally. "I am a woodsman in any land I visit, though it is clear there is much you could teach me. The soft lands of the south are not my home, either. I learned the ways of the wild in Icemark, to the west of Irrisen. The cold there does not have the teeth of Irrisen's winter, but it still bites. Even so, I am impressed with the survival skills you've shown me here, and I thank you for it. I hope we can travel together for a time, and learn from each other."
A murmur passes around the group as Ankih channels, one of gratitude, but also amazement over the cleric's deity.
Barely half an hour after the camp is set up, the storm blows in. If you hadn't just spent a day or two near the white out conditions of the winter portal, you'd be amazed at the ferocity of the storm. Amazingly, the campsite holds up well, and no one feels the effects of the cold very much.
Mierul pulls out a lute and entertains the group with a collection of stories and songs. Nadya cooks up a stew pot brimming with spices and vegetables, apologizing for the lack of meat. Before long, evening comes and the group beds down for the night.
Nadya spends her time talking to Kalt on his watch, feeling a kinship in their mutual love of nature. She tells him of her husband's death by an ice troll in the nearby Hoarwood Forest, forcing her to care for her three children alone. She shows him a locket with pictures of the three; Thora, a 7 year old blond girl and her twin boys Orm and Mjoli. She laments that she's had to take up this trade as she rarely gets to see her children, forcing her to rely on friends to watch them while she's out on supply runs. Her story turns sour as she begins to talk of the White Witch Nazhena Vasillovna and the "tax" she's started taking from the supplies. The Witch takes a portion of the provisions meant for the town, and in return, they are harassed less than neighboring villages. She tells that this run is significantly larger than usual because the Witch is trying to provision an unusually large force, and if she provides them with all the food they need, it may put her into the Witches good graces. As Nadya discusses this last part, she bursts into tears, and begins caressing the side of the locket with her daughters face.
Kalt listens sympathetically as Nadya tells her tale, interjecting from time to time as appropriate, "Ah, we fought an ice troll on the way here, hellish tough beasts they are - I'm sorry to hear about your husband."
"It must be hard to be away from your children, even if you're in the woods you hold so dear. It's fortunate you've got people to rely on to care for 'em."
Kalt senses the turn in her mood, but is still surprised when this strong, competent woman bursts into tears. He lays a comforting hand on her shoulder and asks, "Nadya, what is it? Is your daughter in danger? Does the White Witch threaten her somehow? How can I help you?"
Kalt does his best to examine the locket clutched in the woman's hand, and while he isn't completely positive, there is a striking resemblance to the vision of the girl seen after the doll was destroyed.
"They took her." she sobs, "They took my Thora. She made a comment that the Witch found offensive, and so they locked her up in a cage. I spoke with Nazhena and she said that if I helped her feed her army, I could have my daughter back." Looking up at Kalt, and realizing what she's done, she quickly tries to recover herself, "Yes, thank you for listening. The only help I need is to make sure these supplies get to their destination so I can have my daughter back."
Ankih dreams of a pleasantly warm bedroom, with a pale northern beauty for company. He smiles as he looks at her, to find that she has turned cold as ice. hearing a loud cluck behind him, he turns to face a large hut with a chicken's beak and legs. Fleeing in terror, he snorts himself awake, to discover that he has rolled quite a distance from the fire.
" Sorry, sorry."
He mutters as he moves back to the warming flames and immediately goes back to sleep.
Kalt pauses a long time after hearing what Nadya has to say, then speaks with great pain and reluctance in his voice, "Nadya, I fear the witches have played you false. I cannot say for certain, but your Thora, beauty that she is, may be beyond saving. Before we passed through the portal, we came upon a strange hut, like those that guard the borders of Irrisen, I believe. Inside was a horrid child-doll, that did us some harm before we destroyed it. When the doll-thing died, when I destroyed it with my blade, we saw a...vision, a glimpse of a little girl. She was laughing, and playing, with a smile on her face, full of joy. And she looked to my eye to be the image of your daughter."
He takes a breath, his hand on Nadya's shoulder giving a squeeze, and continues, "It may be that the witch's magics send children's spirits to these dolls from afar, somehow, and that the child can survive the trip. I know little of such things. But I fear the witches may not hold to the bargain they have made with you. If this is so, I would take pleasure in assisting in your revenge on them. And if, somehow, they still have Thora and can deliver her to you, I would assist in achieving that goal as well. I am sorry to bear such news, after you have helped us, and after all you have suffered."
The forlarren laughs, like chimes blowing in the wind, over the Gnomes question. "Of course little one. You will find many of the non-humans in this land have taken on this coloration. It both protects us from the cold, and aides in any stealth we try in avoiding the wintery beasts of the land. My name is Mierul, a wandering minstrel. You, as I hear, are not of this land. What will you do now that you have come to this winter wonderland? I am sure your trip here would make a wondrous tale. Perhaps you can tell it to me in a bit more depth than your friend."
Bugsby stares dumbly a bit longer, before her words penetrate his brain. He excitedly relates every bit of information he can think of about their trip, taking careful time to delve into the interesting parts like finding red berries on a bush with blue leaves, jumping through a window, fighting undead and crazy doll-children, and his multiple near death experiences. The entire telling takes substantial time, but the unflappable gnome follows Mierul around like a puppy, talking as much as he's able, as if allowing any silence will somehow break the magic of their conversation. He is sure to sleep as close to the fire, and Mierul, as he's able -and she'll allow. One thing he's sure to do is answer her question about his intentions now that they are here in this winter wonderland. "Well, Iusedtowanttobecomeachocolatedragonandeatmyself -butnowI'djustliketoturnmyskinblue.... like yours." the last is said with a kind of love-struck reverence as he gazes into her eyes, eyelids fluttering rapidly.
At Kalts revelation, a horrified look comes over Nadya, tears welling up in her eyes once more. After a few moments, those tears turn into icy resolve. "I feared this, but still held out hope. Thank you for freeing my daughters soul from the doll. At least now she is were that filthy witch cannot harm her ever again. I accept your offer of revenge, and will do everything in my power to help you do what you need to do. There is a Pale Tower a few miles from my village of Waldsby, it is there that I have met the Witch and her apprentice, a Radosek Pavril, a gaunt and vile looking man."
Mierul allows Bugsby to tell his tale, occasionally inquiring about bits and pieces that allow her to truly grasp the heroic deeds of the party so far. When Bugsby comments about wanting to become blue, a knowing smile flashes across her face for an instant, replaced by one like a mother who has just heard her son wants to marry her. "Alas my dear Gnome, there is almost no way for you to become blue, and those that would allow it are powerful magics few in this world could perform." She has no issue with Bugsby wanting to bed down next to her, but keeps a sensible distance between their bedrolls.
The third watch is awakened, and begin their rounds of the sight when one of them notices Mierul's bedroll is empty, tracks leading out of the campsite to the north.
The news of the difficulty of turning blue like the fascinating forlarren dims his excitement for just a moment, but then he recalls she said 'almost' no way, and this allows the small hope to linger inside him like a warming flame.
While moving around the camp, several of his rounds take him predictably close to Mierul's bedroll. One such circuit he manages to notice the woman is missing, and he frantically shakes out her bedroll as if expecting her to tumble out of it. Seeing her truly gone he gives a shout, waking his friends and pointing out her tracks leading north. "Kalt! Sven! Mierulismissing! CanyoutrackherpleasePleasePLEASE!??!" the little gnome hops from foot to foot with a panicked energy.
At Bugsby's shouts, Avora comes awake with a start. "Wha... who?" She quickly finds her senses and grabs her spear.
From the other side of the camp, Ankih hears Bugsby's shouts and comes running.
" What is it Bugsby?..."
Frowning he looks around the area..
" Wait, are there any other tracks or just hers?"
Ankih will peer off into the dark to see what he can...
Kalt says to Nadya, in tones of grim certainty, "We will go to this Pale Tower, and we will find those who have done wrong by you and your child. And we will end them, and offer you what little solace that can provide."
Kalt, ever a light sleeper when in the wilds, rolls to his feet at the sounds of Bugsby's shouts. He takes in Mierul's empty bedroll, and the gnome's agitated state, even more so than usual, and says, "Bugsby, try to keep calm. Give me some light, and we'll follow these tracks and see where she's gone."
He kneels down briefly, studying the ground and muttering, "Well, this snow is good for tracking in, at least. As long as it doesn't really get to snowing and fill her tracks right in."
Kalt is able to follow her tracks easily enough. A single set that seems to have taken off at a run along the road. It does appear she has a bit of a head start on the group, and any pursuit in the darkness will be difficult. Kalt is confident he can track her as long as needed, though the cold may begin to hinder everything before long.
"You're right. On the morrow, I will request a spell that will permit me to send a short message to the Circle and inform them of our progress." She snuggles down next to the big warrior.
Avora quickly rolls up her bedroll and secures it to her pack, then shoulders the whole, grunting slightly under the weight (though not so much as in the past).
Bugsby keeps as close as he can, scarcely feeling the deep cold as he follows Kalt. He casts a light spell upon the warriors weapon so there's light to see by. "Hurryhurry! Shecouldbeinterribledanger!" the gnome says, trying to keep the panic from his voice.
The group sets out to track down the fleeing bard. The short legs of Bugsby quickly tire and fatigue as the cold works its way inside his cloths, chilling his bones. Kalt realizes that the bard is traveling as fast as he could at top speed, and staying with the Gnome is causing them to lose ground on her.
Ankih will also follow along after grabbing his gear.
" There is only one set of tracks? She's running? What in the flame is going on...?"
Could she be a spy of this Witch? Or enthralled away somehow...?
Bugsby struggles to keep up, but is unable. "Just. Go. Ahead!" he exclaims breathlessly to Sven and Kalt and whoever else is able to move at speed. He, Ankih and whoever else is moving slow struggle on in the cold. The gnome, a little blue looking, looks over at the struggling Cleric next to him, leaning his face a little closer, "C-c-c-c-can you feel my face? I can't s-s-s-sseem to anymore." he says through chattering teeth.
The group adjusts some weight, including Sven carrying the smaller gnome, and soon they are back on Mierul's trail. Kalt feels they are slowly gaining on the bard, but is not sure how much of a head start she had. Sven watches as Bugsby gets colder and colder, apparently the shock of going from a warm bed to a blizzard is too much for his system to bare.
Bugsby urges the others on, not shivering much anymore, rather just keeping unusually still. His skin is decidedly blueish and icicles hang from nose and earlobes.
Kalt sees Bugsby, astride Sven's broad back, looking intently into the night and urging his fellows on, no thought of turning back in his mind. Smiling a little in spite of the bitter cold and his friends' suffering, Kalt says, "If Bugsby is willing to press on, I say we do so. Ankih, keep an eye on him, will you?"
Kalt turns his attention back to the tracks in the snow, focusing on judging how long it's been since Mierul passed this way.
Bugsby clutches all the tighter to Svens shoulders with nerveless fingers no longer relaying information to his brain. Starting a bit at Svens loud voice, Bugsby smiles a little as he takes in the words, "She is very blue." he says dreamily, staring off at some unknown future involving blue children sitting at his knee.
And so the group plows on. The group finds it easiest to move single file, Kalt nimbly dancing across the snow and directing the powerful Sven as he plows the road for the others. Miles pass as they churn through the snow and ice of the storm, pausing so often for Ankih to heal and warm away some of winters bite. Soon, they see signs of civilization. Their potential joy at seeing the village quickly sours as the tracks Kalt has been following veer into the woods. It seems, the village of Waldsby was not Mierul’s intended destination. She circled the town and continued northward. Kalt pauses at this revelation, remembering that Nadya had commented during their discussion of the local area, that there wasn’t much within a days ride to the north besides the Pale Tower, home of the witches.
Kalt does notice the tracks are becoming clearer as well, a sure sign they are gaining on her.