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Well, here goes nothing.
Steeling himself against the wind and cold, Marcellano begins to make his way across the river, taking cautious steps, but moving at a pace that lets him get across the river relatively quickly. In his right hand, he grips his boarding axe tightly to avoid letting it slip from his hand in the severe winds; in his other hand, he carries the loop of silk rope tied to both him and the tree behind him. He keeps a firm grip on this as well, slowly unlooping it as he walks.
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Having served for years as a guardian of the Mordant Spire, Teladon Azuth knew from experience the way that wind could gather the cold along the frigid edges of the steaming sea and whip it along the water flaying a man in a few short moments. He also knew that his nalwood bow would be all but useless in the howling wind.
Listening carefully, Teladon nodded when the Andoran captain directed him to cross the river. It was a good plan, and Teladon suspected he had the sharpest eyes amongst the group, or at least was wise enough to know when to watch and wait and when to rush ahead. Patiently wrapping up his meticulously carved bow and raven fletched arrows in his quiver and then sealing the top with a leather and wood cap, Teladon took the proffered end of the rope and tied it around his waist. Resting a hand briefly on his ebony scimitar, the magus carefully considered carrying the blade in his hand but after reflection decided that it might throw off his balance too much.
Walking up towards the river’s edge, the elf glanced at Ordrud and Marcellano. By roping himself to them he was placing trust in them. If they both fell then Teladon doubted that he would be able to keep them from slipping away. The far more likely outcome is that he would be dragged along with them. They were strong, that much was clear, but a bull could be strong as well and still taken down with grace and finesse, something both of them seemed to lack. Taking this into consideration, the stoic elf eased a dagger out of its sheath. The frost could make the blade stick and if he needed to cut the rope to free him, seconds could be the difference between life and death. Frowning, Teladon glanced at the rope again. It was not that he did not trust the others. He just trusted himself more.
Holding up his hand, Teladon pushed it forward as he stepped towards the river, looking for the boundary made real by the solid wall of arctic wind. The others might think to rush. That was a mistake. A fall here could cost a man, or elf his life. Once he was on the ice he might never be able to get back up thanks wind and the slick surface of the river. No, now was not the time to rush but to take each step slow and steady. Readying himself, Teladon took a single calming breath of icy air and began to make the trek across the river, placing one foot carefully in front of the next.
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It was colder than Ordrud could have ever imagined.
The moment Ordrud passes onto the ice he can feel the force of the wind pushing at him. The powerful gale is colder than anything he has ever felt in his life, his nose, cheeks and lips prickle with pain and then go numb before he's even halfway across the ice. But with his powerful strides and momentum, he carries himself with remarkable resilience. As he nears the opposite bank, Ordrud leaps as best as he can, but his feet slip on the ice and he takes a tumble, crashing down into the snow, rolling, and then ultimately righting himself in a crouch in one swift motion.
Looking back, he can see his rope extending across the ice, but he can also see something else.
Marcellano and Teladon struggle across the ice, feeling the buffeting wind blowing ferociously against them both. The wind is so cold is steals the breath away from those within it. As they cross, Marcellano feels his cleats slip on the ice, feels the wind find purchase at his chest and push him to his left, toppling him off balance. He canters, pitches over arms windmilling as Teladon makes it to the other shore. As the marine land hard on one knee on the ice, practically in the middle of the river, he can see something bristling up around the man he's roped off to -- blades of ice.
Ar'Zarrcal is the first to spot them, spines of ice rising up out of the river's surface. A moment later humanoid figures composed of ice and snow have formed out of the river's frozen surface, bladed claw-like appendages where arms should be and hovering shards of ice drifting in the air around their polar forms.
One of the creatures emerges right beside Marcellano, and the marine can feel the palpable waves of cold coming off of it, and also can see that it is largely unaffected by the wind despite it's full size being no larger than a toddler. It shrieks in some glass-on-glass sounding language not too audible over the wind, but that sound is followed by another shriek, then another, than another.
Soon, Marcellano is surrounded by four of these icy creatures where he's trapped by wind and ice.
<< | | | The Frozen River >>
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These creatures are elementals, cold based elementals. They are immune to cold and vulnerable to fire, and as elementals are immune to the frailties of the flesh and cannot be paralyzed, bleed to death, be poisoned or put to sleep, nor can they suffer critical injuries or be effectively flanked.
As Ar'Zarrcal's spoiler, plus:
Ice Elementals, thankfully the weakest of their kind given their small size. Still, they can numb a person when struck with their supernatural cold, much as the winter-touched fey's arrows did. They can also move unhindered on icy surfaces and glide through ice and snow as if it were water. This traction is keeping them from being affected by the wind. These elementals vision is also not obscured by snow or other cold-weather features.
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"See, told ya so. Ice demons!" Rasso says, shaking his head. "F*cking hate this place."
Ordrud had never felt so cold in his life. And that's considerable with a winter witch for a harsh mother. But he was across the river now. Better cold and dry than cold and wet!.
Swiftly up in a crouch, his head swivels to see the ice demons emerging from the ice into the heavy winds. The rope around his waist was fairly taut with Talavuc holding the other end around the tree truck. It would be hard to fight with it... or maybe...
With a fierce toothy grin, he stared and nodded to Talavuc to hold on tight. He grabbed his rope and moved down the river shore trying to catch the ice demon and throw it up into the howling wind.
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The rope impacts the elemental in an attempt to ensnare it and at least move it in some fashion, but as Ordrud's rope wraps around the elmental, its seemingly solid form shifts and flows around it like a slushy liquid when it topples over. Down becomes up, legs become arms, and the rope winds up passing through the elemental's entire body after a few moments. It appears that the elemental can't even be tripped, let alone ensnared enough by the rope enough to fling it.
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"Elementals, not demons."Ar'Zarrcal said in response to the Merman's curses. "Ice Elememntals. If we had fire, that would be the thing to use, provided it could survive in that wind."He advanced forward after saying as much and stood at the edge of the barrier of wind, his Warhammer in hand.
He wasn't prepared to go out onto the Ice just yet, but perhaps he could lure the creatures to him. It seemed they were guardians of some sort and that they emerged within the wall of wind only served to lend more weight to Ar'Zarrcal's theory that this was a breach to one of the elemental realms.
He had heard their strange language and tried his best to mimic it, following that with curses in the dwarven and Ulfen tongue. Perhaps he could lure them to fight him outside the wind.
Two of the elemental creatures close the distance with Marcellano in seconds. They circle around the marine, forcing him to divide his attention between them and give them more opportunity to strike. The first elemental lashes out with the wild swing of sharp appendage of jagged ice. The icy claws rip a shallow injury across Marcellano's rigth leg, sending blood into the wind that whips away on the powerful gale. The other elemental lunges at the marine's calf, but Marcellano is able to roll to his side with the aid of the wind pushing at him to throw himself out of the way of the attack. The blood around the initial injury freezes and the wound goes numb fast, but despite the great pain and spreading frostbite, Marcellano manages keep fighting.
"" Ar'Zarrcal shouts at the top of his lungs as he advances on the border of the windstorm. With the strong winds whipping through the river area the snow has been blown down to a hard-packed and shallow covering making walking much easier than elsewhere had been. Shield raised and mace ready, Ar'Zarrcal isn't entirely sure what he just said -- but either it, or his proximity, got the elemental's attention.
The ice cracks and splits as the elemental moves through its surface, reforming around it as if the elemental were part of the river. It rises up, bladed forearms reeling back and ready to strike, only to find the runescarred dwarf lunging in with a whirlwind of a backhand with his mighty hammer. The elemental tries to turn away but is clipped by the warhammer's strike, sending shattered pieces of ice and slush off of its morphic form.
The other elemental sinks down into the frozen ice, visible only as hairline cracks drawing rapidly close. It surges across the river towards Ordrud, rising up out of the ice like some sort of primal predator at the last minute. But Ordrud is ready, turning his armor towards the clawed creature, allowing it to only find the protective layering to scrape its claws feebly against before landing on four icy limbs in some vaguely animalistic shape.
Dirt!
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Pushing his way along the icy river and buffeted by blasts of howling arctic wind, Teladon had the briefest of seconds to react before the four ice-rimed creatures bursted out of the thick ice flow and charged towards the roped off scouts. Scowling behind his mask, Teladon silently cursed. He had expected the wall and the trap to be enough. The creatures and their seeming invulnerability to wind made for an extremely dangerous combination. He should have known better.
Adjusting without a seconds hesitation the elf took in the situation. In the moments following the ambush Teladon had thrown himself dangerously close to the spiked log trap that was strung with rope. A dangerous obstacle to be sure but one that was created by humans and humans rarely made anything of exceptional quality.
Smiling to himself, the elf in his arrogance gathered motes of energy towards him. The wind whipped and howled around him, ethereal voices carried by the wind. It was a distraction but one that was tolerable. Focusing on the spell, Teladon whispered with a quiet lilting voice the 3th invocation of combustion. Gathering heat to his hand, Teladon reached down and unsheathed the black scimitar, its edge now glowing red in the freezing winters air.
Glancing towards the half-orc, Teladon blinked. Orcs and Elves were natural enemies, but this particular specimen had shown him self being able to work with others. He would assist.
Taking a short shuffle to the left and then a single gliding step forward Teladon showed the others once again the inherent superiority of Elven grace while avoiding the trap. Then taking three bounding leaps along the rivers edge, Teladon gripped his blade in both hands and brought it slicing down towards the ice-formed creature, in a strike that was both swift and true.
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Ordrud is disappointed that his rope trick didn't work but didn't dwell on it. He pulls his greatsword from his waist scabbard, lets loose a terrific roar, and attempts to strike the ice demon.
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After growling his obscenities, Rasso springs forward to aid Marcellano. "Hold on bub, I've got your back." he says into the howling wind. Sloughing through the snow, he attempts to take one of the elementals apart with a chomping bite. Hope I don't get brain freeze. I hate brain freeze.
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Marcellano snorts at the situation, barely feeling the stab of ice from the elemental thanks to the numbing cold. Of course. Of course it couldn't be as simple as a frozen river wreathed in howling, icy wind with a spiked log trap awaiting anyone foolish enough to cross. No, nothing's that simple. Instead, they had to add ice demons the size of toddlers to the mix, because it was too simple before.
Mumbling to himself at the situation, Marcellano holds tightly onto the rope with one hand, and brings the spiked end of his boarding axe down upon the creature that is between himself and Rasso. Knowing he's being flanked, Marcellano fights defensively, trying not to leave another opening in which he could get stabbed. He keeps up his defensive posture as he risks an opening from both of the creatures by moving out of the howling wind and onto the snow next to his merfolk compatriot.
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Focusing on ensuring the rope is tight, Talavuc is slow to react to the ambush. The ice is attacking us? She shakes her head and glances about, watching as the rest bound into action, combating the opponents that have appeared before them.
She lets out a shrill whistle, pointing at the elemental that Ar'Zarrcal was squaring off against. The giant mink rushes forward, lashing out with its jaws, trying to carve a chunk off the mass of ice with his teeth.
Seeing that Ordrud has crossed the ice, she drops the rope, stows her wand, and grips her spear, pulling it from over her shoulder.
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The trials of their trip thus far having long since taken their toll, Fenyx curses silently under his breath. Seeing the Erutaki's beast sprint forward to join battle with the ice elemental before Ar'Zarrcal, the necromancer resolves to act similarly. As he gestures towards the riverbank, the villager's carcass that lumbers beside him obeys with an unsettling groan, its legs working without enthusiasm to carry it into the fray. Having little to offer to the present situation, Fenyx approaches Ar'Zarrcal with his scythe drawn, eyes peering about the area for any yet unseen threats.
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"See, told ya so. Ice demons!" Rasso says, shaking his head. "F*cking hate this place."
Ordrud had never felt so cold in his life. And that's considerable with a winter witch for a harsh mother. But he was across the river now. Better cold and dry than cold and wet!
Swiftly up in a crouch, his head swivels to see the ice demons emerging from the ice into the heavy winds. The rope around his waist was fairly taut with Talavuc holding the other end around the tree truck. It would be hard to fight with it... or maybe...
With a fierce toothy grin, he stared and nodded to Talavuc to hold on tight. He grabbed his rope and moved down the river shore trying to catch the ice demon and throw it up into the howling wind.
The rope impacts the elemental in an attempt to ensnare it and at least move it in some fashion, but as Ordrud's rope wraps around the elmental, its seemingly solid form shifts and flows around it like a slushy liquid when it topples over. Down becomes up, legs become arms, and the rope winds up passing through the elemental's entire body after a few moments. It appears that the elemental can't even be tripped, let alone ensnared enough by the rope enough to fling it.
"Elementals, not demons." Ar'Zarrcal said in response to the Merman's curses. "Ice Elememntals. If we had fire, that would be the thing to use, provided it could survive in that wind."He advanced forward after saying as much and stood at the edge of the barrier of wind, his Warhammer in hand.
He wasn't prepared to go out onto the Ice just yet, but perhaps he could lure the creatures to him. It seemed they were guardians of some sort and that they emerged within the wall of wind only served to lend more weight to Ar'Zarrcal's theory that this was a breach to one of the elemental realms.
He had heard their strange language and tried his best to mimic it, following that with curses in the dwarven and Ulfen tongue. Perhaps he could lure them to fight him outside the wind.
Two of the elemental creatures close the distance with Marcellano in seconds. They circle around the marine, forcing him to divide his attention between them and give them more opportunity to strike. The first elemental lashes out with the wild swing of sharp appendage of jagged ice. The icy claws rip a shallow injury across Marcellano's rigth leg, sending blood into the wind that whips away on the powerful gale. The other elemental lunges at the marine's calf, but Marcellano is able to roll to his side with the aid of the wind pushing at him to throw himself out of the way of the attack. The blood around the initial injury freezes and the wound goes numb fast, but despite the great pain and spreading frostbite, Marcellano manages keep fighting.
""Ar'Zarrcal shouts at the top of his lungs as he advances on the border of the windstorm. With the strong winds whipping through the river area the snow has been blown down to a hard-packed and shallow covering making walking much easier than elsewhere had been. Shield raised and mace ready, Ar'Zarrcal isn't entirely sure what he just said -- but either it, or his proximity, got the elemental's attention.
The ice cracks and splits as the elemental moves through its surface, reforming around it as if the elemental were part of the river. It rises up, bladed forearms reeling back and ready to strike, only to find the runescarred dwarf lunging in with a whirlwind of a backhand with his mighty hammer. The elemental tries to turn away but is clipped by the warhammer's strike, sending shattered pieces of ice and slush off of its morphic form.
The other elemental sinks down into the frozen ice, visible only as hairline cracks drawing rapidly close. It surges across the river towards Ordrud, rising up out of the ice like some sort of primal predator at the last minute. But Ordrud is ready, turning his armor towards the clawed creature, allowing it to only find the protective layering to scrape its claws feebly against before landing on four icy limbs in some vaguely animalistic shape.
The trials of their trip thus far having long since taken their toll, Fenyx curses silently under his breath. Seeing the Erutaki's beast sprint forward to join battle with the ice elemental before Ar'Zarrcal, the necromancer resolves to act similarly. As he gestures towards the riverbank, the villager's carcass that lumbers beside him obeys with an unsettling groan, its legs working without enthusiasm to carry it into the fray. Having little to offer to the present situation, Fenyx approaches Ar'Zarrcal with his scythe drawn, eyes peering about the area for any yet unseen threats. There seem to be nothing, though, nothing but wind-driven snow and the elementals creaking and whining forms.
After growling his obscenities, Rasso springs forward to aid Marcellano. "Hold on bub, I've got your back." he says into the howling wind. Sloughing through the snow, he attempts to take one of the elementals apart with a chomping bite. Hope I don't get brain freeze. I hate brain freeze. Rasso never discovers the answer to his question as his shark-like jaws snap shut just shy of the elemental's spiky form. Though he can feel the bitter cold radiating off of its body.
With a dip of his shoulder Styvanus swings the shield off of his back and onto his shield arm and steps in on the 'flanks' the ice elemental nearest this side of the bank. He grips the edge of the shield and smashes it into the creature. The impact sends the elemental reeling back and breaks shards of its icy body off, hairline fractures spreading across its form.
Marcellano snorts at the situation, barely feeling the stab of ice from the elemental thanks to the numbing cold. Of course. Of course it couldn't be as simple as a frozen river wreathed in howling, icy wind with a spiked log trap awaiting anyone foolish enough to cross. No, nothing's that simple. Instead, they had to add ice demons the size of toddlers to the mix, because it was too simple before.
Mumbling to himself at the situation, Marcellano holds tightly onto the rope with one hand, and brings the spiked end of his boarding axe down upon the creature that is between himself and Rasso. The moment that pick strikes ice, it drives straight down through the creature and splits the cracks already provided by Captain Rozier's shield. In an instant, the elemental shatters into dozens of pieces and collapses down to the frozen river.
Knowing he's still not out of the proverbial fire yet, Marcellano fights defensively, trying not to leave another opening in which he could get stabbed. He keeps up his defensive posture as he risks an opening from both of the creatures by moving out of the howling wind and onto the snow next to his merfolk compatriot.
Focusing on ensuring the rope is tight, Talavuc is slow to react to the ambush. The ice is attacking us? She shakes her head and glances about, watching as the rest bound into action, combating the opponents that have appeared before them.
She lets out a shrill whistle, pointing at the elemental that Ar'Zarrcal was squaring off against. The giant mink rushes forward, lashing out with its jaws, trying to carve a chunk off the mass of ice with his teeth. The mink tumbles and rolls with the elemental for a moment, claws raking, jaws snapping and hind legs kicking, fighting it the way it wound with any other prey -- trying to disorient and maim. Claws find little resistance from the ice and the mink's strong jaws crunch ice within them. But the elemental throws the creature off, sending Naasvit rolling through the snow before he rights himself on all fours, hissing sharply after having damahed the elemental so badly.
Seeing that Ordrud has crossed the ice, she drops the rope, stows her wand, and grips her spear, pulling it from over her shoulder.
Pushing his way along the icy river and buffeted by blasts of howling arctic wind, Teladon had the briefest of seconds to react before the four ice-rimed creatures bursted out of the thick ice flow and charged towards the roped off scouts. Scowling behind his mask, Teladon silently cursed. He had expected the wall and the trap to be enough. The creatures and their seeming invulnerability to wind made for an extremely dangerous combination. He should have known better.
Adjusting without a seconds hesitation the elf took in the situation. In the moments following the ambush Teladon had thrown himself dangerously close to the spiked log trap that was strung with rope. A dangerous obstacle to be sure but one that was created by humans and humans rarely made anything of exceptional quality.
Smiling to himself, the elf in his arrogance gathered motes of energy towards him. The wind whipped and howled around him, ethereal voices carried by the wind. It was a distraction but one that was tolerable. Focusing on the spell, Teladon whispered with a quiet lilting voice the 3th invocation of combustion. Gathering heat to his hand, Teladon reached down and unsheathed the black scimitar, its edge now glowing red in the freezing winters air.
Glancing towards the half-orc, Teladon blinked. Orcs and Elves were natural enemies, but this particular specimen had shown him self being able to work with others. He would assist.
Taking a short shuffle to the left and then a single gliding step forward Teladon showed the others once again the inherent superiority of Elven grace while avoiding the trap. Then taking three bounding leaps along the rivers edge, Teladon gripped his blade in both hands and brought it slicing down towards the ice-formed creature, in a strike that was both swift and true.
<< | | | : The Frozen River >>
Ordrud is disappointed that his rope trick didn't work but didn't dwell on it. He pulls his greatsword from his waist scabbard, lets loose a terrific roar, and swings his blade straight through the elemental, shattering it into thousands of pieces in an explosion of ice and snow that rains down all around him.
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Flowing through the ice, the elemental out in the middle of the river doesn't give chase to Marcellano. Instead, it turns about face by flowing into itself and moving backwards as it reshapes, charging at Teladon. It bursts up out of snow and ice with flashing claws, but the agile magi pivots on one foot, sidestepping the blow with minimal effort and remarkable grace.
Across the river, the resonant clang of the other elemental's claws clashing with Ar'Zarrcal's shield cannot even be heard by Ordrud and Teladon due to the barrier of noise the wind creates. Ar'Zarrcal and the others hear it just fine, along with the cracking, screeching voice of the elemental cursing the runescarred dwarf's resileant armor.
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Seeing that one elemental is surrounded by allies, Rasso grits his teeth and charges out onto the ice towards Teladon and Ordrud. The wind is strong and bitingly cold, but the merman trusts his natural fortitude and the magical protection he's under to protect him. He digs deep into his faltering reserves of strength and scuttles across the ice to provide a distraction for the elemental while Ordrud finishes it.
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Hefting his warhammer in hand, he swings it upwards and then around in a savage, but controlled arc. Realizing that those this creature has taken a vaguely manlike shape that it has no vitals, Ar'Zarrcal focuses not on where he strikes the elemental, but merely on connecting in the hopes that each blow from his masterwork hammer will chip away the ice and snow that makes up its physical form.
Fenyx remains behind his undead minion, directing the zombie's wrath at the small elemental that stands before Ar'Zarrcal. Though he neither sees nor senses any danger beyond what is already evident, he recalls rather clearly the tatzlwyrm ambush. Not a moment before the dragonlings had emerged, he had remarked rather ironically about the threats that each drift of snow might conceal. This far in the woods, tired and paranoid, he has no wish to be caught unawares again. His hands grip the haft of Dirge firmly.
Obeying without hesitation, the rot and rime scored corpse lurches forward from the river bank, arms delivering steady blows that, while slow, carry unnatural force. Nothing of the villager this creature once was remains. Though the cold has done much to preserve what decay has taken hold, the sullen, vacant stare and the choked grunts that issue from its slacked, broken jaw are a testament to the unnatural forces that sustain it. Thick scraps of well worn wool garments, now stiff, frozen, and ragged, creak and crack with each swing the undead makes. A clenched backhand swings wide over the small ice creature, but the furious onslaught is unrelenting, and the zombie brings both hands down on the elemental in a downward, diagonal frenzy.
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Styvanus hesitated only for a moment before stepping up beside the frozen corpse, a tentative step out onto the ice adjacent to the bank. He lined his shoulder up behind the shield and smashed it against the shambling ice with both hands. He grunted with the effort as he did his best to shatter the creature's icy hull.
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Seeing that the group has most of the elementals taken out or under control, Marcellano decides to head over to the other side of the river again, this time hopefully uninterrupted. Since most of the group is on this side of the bank, he feels that in case something else should show up, the two on the opposite side may need help; Plus, the original plan was to get his rope across anyways.
Gritting his teeth against the biting cold and roaring wind, Marcellano pushes through the wind wall, determined to make it across without stalling.
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Seeing the masked elf hesitate, Ordrud moves to his other side and attempts to destroy another elemental with his greatsword and roar.
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Flowing through the ice, the elemental out in the middle of the river doesn't give chase to Marcellano. Instead, it turns about face by flowing into itself and moving backwards as it reshapes, charging at Teladon. It bursts up out of snow and ice with flashing claws, but the agile magi pivots on one foot, sidestepping the blow with minimal effort and remarkable grace.
Hefting his warhammer in hand, he swings it upwards and then around in a savage, but controlled arc. Realizing that those this creature has taken a vaguely manlike shape that it has no vitals, Ar'Zarrcal focuses not on where he strikes the elemental, but merely on connecting in the hopes that each blow from his masterwork hammer will chip away the ice and snow that makes up its physical form.
Across the river, the resonant clang of the other elemental's claws clashing with Ar'Zarrcal's shield cannot even be heard by Ordrud and Teladon due to the barrier of noise the wind creates. Ar'Zarrcal and the others hear it just fine, along with the cracking, screeching voice of the elemental cursing the runescarred dwarf's resileant armor.
Fenyx remains behind his undead minion, directing the zombie's wrath at the small elemental that stands before Ar'Zarrcal. Though he neither sees nor senses any danger beyond what is already evident, he recalls rather clearly the tatzlwyrm ambush. Not a moment before the dragonlings had emerged, he had remarked rather ironically about the threats that each drift of snow might conceal. This far in the woods, tired and paranoid, he has no wish to be caught unawares again. His hands grip the haft of Dirge firmly.
Obeying without hesitation, the rot and rime scored corpse lurches forward from the river bank, arms delivering steady blows that, while slow, carry unnatural force. Nothing of the villager this creature once was remains. Though the cold has done much to preserve what decay has taken hold, the sullen, vacant stare and the choked grunts that issue from its slacked, broken jaw are a testament to the unnatural forces that sustain it. Thick scraps of well worn wool garments, now stiff, frozen, and ragged, creak and crack with each swing the undead makes. A clenched backhand swings wide over the small ice creature, but the furious onslaught is unrelenting, and the zombie brings both hands down on the elemental in a downward, diagonal frenzy.
With a resounding crash the zombie's frozen hands smash against the elemental, sending it reeling back as fractures spread through its icy form and chunks of ice are chipped away from its amorphous form.
Seeing that one elemental is surrounded by allies, Rasso grits his teeth and charges out onto the ice towards Teladon and Ordrud. The wind is strong and bitingly cold, but the merman trusts his natural fortitude and the magical protection he's under to protect him. He digs deep into his faltering reserves of strength and scuttles across the ice to provide a distraction for the elemental while Ordrud finishes it.
Styvanus hesitated only for a moment before stepping up beside the frozen corpse, a tentative step out onto the ice adjacent to the bank. He lined his shoulder up behind the shield and smashed it against the shambling ice with both hands. He grunted with the effort as he did his best to shatter the creature's icy hull and in that singular impact the Captain's shield shattered the elemental into dozens of large, jagged pieces of ice and wind-blown snow that clattered to the frozen river's surface like shards of broken glass.
Seeing that the group has most of the elementals taken out or under control, Marcellano decides to head over to the other side of the river again, this time hopefully uninterrupted. Since most of the group is on this side of the bank, he feels that in case something else should show up, the two on the opposite side may need help; Plus, the original plan was to get his rope across anyways.
Gritting his teeth against the biting cold and roaring wind, Marcellano pushes through the wind wall, determined to make it across without stalling. The cold is overwhelming, ice builds up on the marine's face and snow cakes one side of his body. He can feel his extermities shaking, fingers trembling and lips go numb. It was finally too much to bear.
Across the river, Talavuc sees Marcellano struggling through the wind, limping by the time he reaches the other side of the wind wall. "Hold on!" She shouts, moving down towards the river's edge, looking to Naasvit warily, as if uncertain the mink would not simply be thrown away by the powerful arctic gale.
Through that wind wall, she can see Teladon with his blade raised. He watches the elemental's movements, readies his sword in a striking position and continues to hold the elemental's attention with a swift jab of the pommel in a parry of lashing claws. That feint and riposte in hesitation of attack gives an opening for Ordrud to move in.
Seeing the masked elf hesitate, Ordrud moves to his other side and attempts to destroy another elemental with his greatsword and roar. The fury of Belkzen blood and Lastwall mastery at arms delivers a ferocious drop of Ordrud's blade straight down atop the elemental. Like splitting river ice hauled up by a pick, Ordrud shatters the elemental from top to bottom in a single stroke, sending two equally large pieces of ice crashing to either side of his blade. The moment they impact the snowy riverbank, they shatter into thousands of smaller, jagged pieces of frosted ice.
The cold wind howls, and Ordrud can see Marcellano given pause by the cold, clutching his hands towards his chest for warmth.
The river, now, is still.
There is but one more step to go.
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Ordrud sheathes his greatsword at his waist after he recovers from his rage. He then stores his potion of Endure Elements that he had readied and pulls out his only potion of Cure light wounds. He thanks his former companion for the potion in a silent prayer pledging revenge and drinks it.
The flooding warmth of the potion eliminates the freezing effects of the wind wall and removes a couple of nagging aches from the ambush many days ago. He just needs some rest, and he could be back to normal.
Since the other side cannot hear him over the noise of the wind wall, Ordrud signals to tie his rope to the tree and climb across. He can pull the last one, so he doesn't lose his rope. He gives wide berth to the log trap just in case.
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Rasso crosses the rest of the way across the river, carefully avoiding the trap. Once on the other side he waits for the rest of the group to cross and some sort of plan to form for the rest of their journey.
Seeing the others cross, Talavuc looks down to Naasvit and makes a motion with one hand in a palm-up fingers curled gesture. The tired monk alights onto his hind legs and lifts his forelegs up, and Talavuc bends down to scoop the mink up into her arms, slinging him over one shoulder. With a grunt of effort, Talavuc carries the mink into the windstorm. I think he's been eating a little too much fish, she muses to herself before the wall of cold, ferocious wind fully hits her.
The power of the wind is unexpected, and Talavuc canters to one side with a yelp that is swallowed by the wind, the same wind that steals the very breath from her lungs in freezing grasp. Feeling her skin prickling with cold, Talavuc struggles to regain her balance. With her free hand, she reaches out to catch the flagging tail end of the rope tied around Ordrud, catching its loost slack tossing in the wind. With a twirl of her arm she wraps it around her wrist and tugs. It only takes a moment for Ordrud to reciprocate and help in hauling the druid across the ice against the force of the cyclonic barrier.
Getting to the other side, Talavuc lets out a gasp of breathless exhaustion, snow and frost crusted over her cheeks and in her hair. She releases Naasvit, who drops onto the snow on all fours, seemingly unharmed by the cold. He turns, immediately, as Talavuc drops to one knee and presses his warm, wet nose to her brow in concern. "I'm fine," she says in breathless, shaky cadence before tugging a wand out of her belt. Gripped tightly in one hand, she presses the tip of the wand to her chest and speaks a simple word in the tongue of the Erutaki.
A pale white glow emits from the tip of the wand, and almost immediately the ice crusted to Talavuc's skin begins to melt. As the ice melts, the color comes back to her face and the blackness of frostbite fades away. Gasping again, the expression of pain she had been trying to hide fades more naturally.
"What-- could have created that?" Talavuc exasperatedly asks of the wind wall, looking up to the others across the river before turning back, looking at Fenyx and knowing he will have a hard time crossing the wall if she did.
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(fail)
(fail)
(fail)
(fail)
(aided w/rope; pass)
(-1 charge from wand)
Ordrud grunts in reply to the lack of appreciation for getting the woman through the wind wall. He unties the rope from his waist and stows it in his backpack. He is unable to prevent his eyebrows from arching with surprise when she heals herself with a wand. Keeping that for yourself, I see.
He distances himself from the woman and looks at the terrain toward the lodge but not using the obvious trail. Is there a way forward from here? He wonders.
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Beyond the rope trap there is a clear path trod through the light snow that begins a rather immediate upwards incline as the terrain becomes rockier and hillier on this side of the river. The trees are more sparse on this side of the river as well, giving more visibility through the forest and a further distance at which something like lights can be seen. Heading a few steps up the hill, enough to see over the highest crest, Ordrud can spy the flicker of torchlight or perhaps lanterns less than a mile away on a hilltop some thirty feet above their current elevation.
The path from here looks to wind switchback up the hillside, weaving between large trees that were left behind following the toppling of most of the trees in this area. Ordrud also spots obvious footprints trampled into the snow that head in the direction of the lodge.
With the snow depth much less here, the group could easily come at the lodge from a direction that isn't straight on the trail.
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Furthermore, halfway between the lodge and where the group is now, Ordrud can see the flickering glow of a small campfire nestled in the trees just off the main trail. There's possibly a camp of advanced scouts on the route to the lodge who are listening for the log trap being triggered.
When everyone gets to this side of the water, Ordrud offers, "There's a small campfire for their sentries in the trees just off the main trail halfway between here and the lodge. They can probably hear the log trap for there. With the snow depth much less here, we could easily come at the lodge from a direction that isn't straight on the trail."
Checking the tracks, Ordrud estimates there to be at least a dozen men who have recently returned from the lodge, likely within the last ten hours, if not sooner. If they are the full party that the hunters found at the burned Lumber camp indicated, then they've been traveling all day to get here. Among the tracks are distinct cloven hoofmarks of a quadruped, likely the stag that was reported to travel with the druid that had overseen the burning of the disloyal when Falcon's Hollow was first taken over.
"Look at the tracks. At least a dozen men have recently returned to the lodge, likely within the last ten hours, if not sooner. If they are the full party that the hunters found at the burned Lumber camp indicated, then they've been traveling all day to get here. Among the tracks are distinct cloven hoofmarks of a quadruped, likely the stag that was reported to travel with the druid that had overseen the burning of the disloyal when Falcon's Hollow was first taken over." Ordrud says to no one particular while crouched over the ground.