When Avora mentions the winter spirits, the elk shakes his head in the negative, causing a bit of snow to fall from its head. ” Awll mens ghoo to keeyp. Speereets sno haav menslhayve. Yoo ghets doe, yoo ghoo hoome?”
Bugbsy looks at his hands accusingly as the elk starts speaking to them, but then realizes he didn't accidently cast a spell, but the thing could actually talk! He starts bobbing up and down on Scarabs back, trying to get the mooses attention, hand raised as high as he can stretch it, like in a classroom. "MR.Moose Mr.Moose! Doyouwanttobemynoblesteed!?"
Again, the elk shakes its head in the negative, ”No, I sehrve ash no stheed”
Bugsby crosses his arms in irritation, pouting, "WellthenIguessoncewesavethegirlwe'lljustleave!"
The elk seems pleased by Bugsby’s statement. ”Doo anhee ov yoo mhakee maghik feyer?”
”No. Theh speereets suh-fher mutch froom feyer. Grehet elp iv yoo cohuld mhakee.” responds the elk before licking up some snow and chewing on a shard of ice.
Speaking as the group continues on, the elk adds, ”Mashter whas Demora, whitch ov Irrishen behfour khilt bhay Elvanna fhor dishobhediesh.” Its curiosity sated, the elk slowly resumes munching on some foliage.
Lachna's eyes light up during the conversation with the elk, and only her respect for other intelligent creatures stops her from running up to pet it. Anyone watching her can see the internal struggle she is having.
Is it magicked or smart? she wonders to herself. Are there more of them? Are they guarding something.
The elk mentions it's master was a witch and Lachna's body language changes completely. Now she looks suspicious, and is watching the creature with a wary eye.
[i]Is it a spy of some kind? she wonders. What happens to a familiar when its master dies?
"I'm startin' ter think we should head back to town fer some torches at least. Unless one o'ye has some, or really can make fire. I got me flint, but Ye'll have a hard time getting anything ter burn out here. Or do y'all think we should keep on and hope fer a cozy cave come dark?"
Bugsby, still pouting, had been thinking hard while Sven continued to question the elk, and clears his throat and speaks up, making an effort to measure his words in a quiet sing-song voice.
"Once there was a meansy moose,
spoke up his mind when he got close.
Not much of a steed, too proud for that
Maybe not pride, but perhaps way too fat?
Chattyandtalkie and howdoyoudo
I'd be more verbose but I'm smaller than you.
So chew on your ice while we freeze off a nose
and frost takes our fingers, our earlobes and toes.
Begone noble steed, I'm no longer your rider,
I'll let you eat grass, and your belly get wider."
Finished, he takes several bows from his perch atop Scarab, then sticks out his tongue at the elk, and burrows back into the pile of winter clothing.
"It isn't my specialty, but I can prepare spells for making fire, if necessary."
" I can throw fire a few more times, but the sprites were just too fast for me to hit. Alas it is a minor magic anyway. "Ankih is wary of the talking beast, but doesn't think its an enemy. He smirks in amusement at Bugsby's poem, almost laughing.
" We can push on, but I'm spent magically and feel we should rest for the day. At dawn I can pray and rejuvenate my spell repertoire.
Also, I have oil and tindertwigs to start a fire if necessary."
Kalt nods as Sven speaks, then says, simply, "Agreed."
Tired and spent, the group trudges on. A few minutes go by when Kalt indicates the group should pause. Ahead you can see a human sized snowman stands in the middle of the trail before a frozen stream. A crude wooden sign leans against it, with the words Trespassers Turn Back! scrawled across.
Bugsby, atop Scarab buried in warm clothes and healed of his hurts, wonders why people are talking about going back. When they get to the snowman Bugsby hops up and down with glee, "A SNOWMAN!!" jumping up and down and nearly toppling off the animal. But suddenly he stops, getting a squinty-eyed look of suspicion on his face, and wiggles his fingers towards the snowman and glances around the area.
Avora also stops, wondering if the snowman is what it appears to be, or if it is another frozen human or has been transformed.
Bugby starts his hopping immediately when his fingers warm up suddenly, a sure sign of magic, "IknewitIknewit!" and commences a little happy-jig atop Scarab, ending by pointing dramatically towards the snowman, "That, myfriends, is a magicalillusionofsomesort!"
No kids are making snowmen out here! he pats himself on the back triumphantly. Having another suspicious thought pop into his head, he starts wiggling both fingers all around the area, scanning in all directions, including above them. How does the old adage go? 'Where there is one illusion... you're probably already dead' Hmm, something like that I'm sure.
Bugsby gets the crossbow loaded and readied as Sven makes his approach, still quite wary. "Don'tfallin!" he calls out in a rare show of concern for others.
At Sven's question, Avora moves to examine the stream as well.
Bugsby doesn't see any additional magics beyond the snowman. As Sven approaches, around 15 feet away from the snowman, something happens. A mouth magically appears on the snowman and booms out "Can't you read?! The sign says turn back! Now get lost!"
Bugsby bursts out laughing as the snowman speaks, and since no other magics make themselves apparent he responds to the white and round figure. "Why don't you come over here and make us get lost!" he says slowly, careful to enunciate each word.
There is no response from the snowman.
Bugsby calls out to Sven, leveling his crossbow, "Sven! Lookoutplease. I wannashoottheSnowman!"
Grinning Bugsby kneels and looses the bolt, aiming for the illusionary mouth.
The bolt whizzes through the air, puncturing through the "chest" of the snowman and skidding across the ice behind it.
Trudging wearily along at the rear of the party, Ankih stumbles into Scarab before he realizes they have stopped.
Sven had a persuasive argument. Also if the cold effects me this bad, here, how bad will it be when I finally get to Irrisen. I must carry on and adapt!
Upon hearing the booming mouth, saying to go away, he looks around for ambush, and loads his newly acquired crossbow.
" Be careful Sven. This , like everything else so far, is probably a trap."
The gnome twists his mouth in dissapointment over his poor shot and lost bolt, "Sven, maybetrychoppingthemouthintopieces?" he suggests with an odd look in his gnome eyes. "Justtobesafe..." It's unclear if he thinks this will help the situation, or he just wants the mouth chopped up.
As Sven is about to make the first cut, the mouth says "Warned ya!" Before Sven can take much more than a step back, the head explodes in a thunderclap. He is able to resist some of the concussive force that hits him, but head is still ringing.
What is perhaps more distressing is the cracking sounds from the ice on the river. As the snowman is no more, Avora rushes to the river and examines it closely, both on the immediate trail, and the surrounding area.
Bugsby's fingers clap over his ears at the sudden boom, "Sven! Areyoudead? Thatwas AMAZING!" the gnome calls out to him.
Noting Avora's inspection, Bugsby waits impatiently to hear what she finds. "Well!?" he asks.
"The ice has been deliberately thinned by something beneath the surface. We must be very careful when we cross, but I think that I can pick a path that will get us a cross safely."
The gnome purses his lips, "Soit'slikeagame!" he says, hopping off Scarab and moving to the edge of the ice, "Whatdowedo?"
Sven works his way across without any incident, and from this new vantage point, sees something protruding from the snow about 30 feet up the trail.
Bugsby eyes the cold water and shivers involuntarily, "Maybe we need a life rope?" he says in an uncharacteristically clear sentence. Tying the rope about himself, the gnome takes some tentative steps onto the ice, following Avora's directions.
When he gets across he unties himself and throws both hands up in the air and goes to one knee, "OhYEAH!" and small pieces of light and confetti fly from his fingertips.
Bugsby also succeeds in his crossing, with the ice barely registering his small frame. He too, can see the shadow of something in the snow.