"At best they nothing to do with us, at worst they are Fey-friends of Bandits. Reckon we make away for camp. They might think we running away, if they follow then we gut them. If they stay then we have nice rest"
Skäne nods in agreement at Elghund's words;
"Já . Bring them to us, if they komm we butcher them..."
"No more good comes from following mysterious lights than from lying down to rest surrounded by dead ravens," Halla opines. "Those who follow the fairy lights never return ... or they return changed."
"Then good thing we aren't sleeping with dead ravens, that would be stupid way to get killed"
Elghund wheels the party back the way it came, withdrawing around five hundred yards and looking for a spot off the track to set up camp.
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Unsurprisingly to some, Rikka's casting of the stones implies Woe to come from pursuing the witch-lights.
Instead the stoic half-orc leads the party back aways and into a hollow where camp is made and fire built to ward away the chill. Rest lets your weary muscles take succor and replenish themselves for the path ahead. Your rest is undisturbed... though the lack of birdsong still troubles your ears.
"How long you need to rest? We will be shedding blood again after sunset no doubt, rest if you need to prepare. Not much will come on us now, they'll wait 'til sunrise or sunset."
Skäne hunkers down near the fire and chews on some rations. Again he offers the flask of Old Law to any that would wish a dram.
"If I'm to die alongside you all, might as well drink alongside you all... huh."
"Ha, I will drink mine with the goblet half full of the Fey blood of our enemies"
Annalisa slowly nods her head at Elghund's comment before accepting the proffered drink from Skane. She draws deeply from the flask before passing it back to him. "I suppose that I'll be good with just a few short hours. We should set a watch though, I can take the first watch if you all want to get some shut eye."
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As the group retreats to find a campsite, Kló lingers a minute, eyes locked on the lights in the distance. He finally falls into his place in their order and follows along.
When offered Skäne's drink, the big man takes it with a nod, though he gives the fighting man a scowled look, "I'll choose not dying, but I'll drink with you all the same."
After that, and few other words, he finds his way to where Annalísa is settling in for her watch. "I would check your wounds," is all he says by way of asking permission. If she consents, he begins to check each of her wounds with a rough but efficient hand.
After a few minutes, the man's face turns to a dark scowl. He steps back without meeting her eyes, "I can't do anything for now. I need tools. Given a night's rest I could do more."
Without waiting for a response, he lumbers over to find a place to settle in. Within minutes, there is a low rumble of a snore coming from the dark pile in the snow that is Kló.
Elghund pulls his pile of rocks back out of his pouch and assembles them on the ground in a pattern, clearly marking out a watch rotation.
The morning passes without incident, and the time to set out again soon approaches...
With the group looking a little fresher and the effects of the cold no longer biting so hard at his companions bones, Elghund leads the party around the terrain with the moving lights as much as possible.
Annalisa grunts her consent to Klo, allowing him to look her over. His rough hands might elicit the occasional growl or hiss but she says nothing of it. When he retreats from her saying that there is nothing he can do she tells him only, "I'll live. Go get some sleep."
Once the party has all rested and are on their feet again, she resumes her place near the head of the party commanding Hundur to stay with her as the deviate from the trail left behind by the Fey.
Skäne grimly smiles at Kló's comment, before quietly replying;
"We all die... even iǫtunn..."
Then he too pulls his furs close to sleep until his watch is required.
When he wakes, the warrior rubs more foul smelling liniment into his shoulders and neck, then starts the day with a smoke of his pipa, puffing through gritted teeth as the group once again slog through the deep snow.
After a rest that is too short to give true succor, but long enough to salve your weariness, you set out as the sun begins to give true light through the canopy of trees and snow. Gathering yourselves and with rubbed hands against the cold that once again presses in now that you are out of your shelter, you set out to the left and skirting the copse of fetish adorned trees at arms length.
The detour from the path takes you about two hundred feet to one side and there is a need to slough through some deeper snowdrifts and push branches to the side. A few times as you walk, you spy the flicker of witch-lights dancing in the midst of the trees... and once in the morning you hear the piercing cry of a crow sound once, twice and then silence settles in once more.
Soon enough though, and without spending too much time in the bypass, your path meets back up with the easily discerned tracks of horse and man leading further ahead and deeper into the Grungir.
With the mystery lights of the Deeping Gungir behind the group, Kló takes his role as rear-guard all the more serious as he fights to keep his warmth in his body.
Elghund grumbles at the light and his face is locked in a scowl as he advances. Elghund reorients the party back onto the trail and into pursuit...
"The lights didn't follow, they didn't want to die today"
Skäne nods at the big orc's wisdom, with a cruel laugh;
"Huhh. These hrokr have sharp beaks..."
... before trudging once again into position...
Kló grunts at the exchange, trying his best to walk in what little sunlight can pierce the looming trees of the Gungir.
You leave the witch-lights and crow fetishes behind you and forge deeper into the Grungir. The cold remains relentless choking your breath and making you work to force compliance from your muscles. Snow continues to lightly fall and the forest ever so slowly thickens around the clear trail that you follow.
Another half hour down the trail, a narrow game track winds across your path leading it's way through the trees and undergrowth. Hoofprints mark the underlying snow, leading in both directions along it.
As Elghund puts nose to the ground... you notice the approach of a majestic white stag from your right flank coming down the game trail. It paws steadily and confidently forward before stopping forty feet distant from Elghund. It's head rises to lock gaze with the half-orc and a clear voice cries forth from the stag itself! "Halt there and listen... why do you walk the Grungir? Foul beasts have come to this wood."
Annalisa steps forward, standing aside Elghhund. Since it is clear that the talking stag is addressing him, she waits for Elghund to respond. She calls Hundur to her side and tells him to sit.
Elghund looks back at the large and magnificent beast, he looks awestruck as he moves towards it. "Foul beasts have come, you are right, but what are you?" he enquires as he tries to get a closer look at thing and stop from gawking.
Rikka stares at the creature, fascinated. Unsure of the etiquette of speaking with magical stags, she plants Riimukirjain in the snow and steps away from the weapon. "I'm Rikka, called the Dðcincel by some. We are here to find a woman captured by the Unseelie."
To Elghund, "Perhaps you shouldn't get too close... he might startle as easily as any other stag."
Skäne smiles grimly at his comrades words and exchange, hiding his own surprise within black humour;
"Huhh. Might taste as god as any other stag too..."
"I know what I doing" The Orc asides back to the party dismissively as he moves towards the Elk in a way that indicates he is safe, calm and unhurried, avoiding outward signs that might startle the creature as he advances towards it to marvel at such a beast.
Handle Animal
Annalisa shrugs, "OK..."
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The Ulfen before you has clumps of ice in his dirty blond hair, the once tightly coiled braids coming unraveled at the end and merging with his matted beard. His eyes are red rimmed in a face burned raw by the cold. What little skin lies exposed through his furs is tinged blue, though by race or exposure you cannot tell. Thick fingers end in cracked nails and his frame is thick with muscle and fat, faded tattoos of otherworldly origin tracing up his neck and face from out of the fur lined coat. Standing almost 6 feet tall his eyes are a blue not often found in humans and were it not for his size and hair you would think him descended from the otherworldly creatures that call the far North home.Though he stands tall and proud as befits a warrior prince of the North, he is occasionally bent over with a racking cough, and if ever he strips his furs his body seems almost to be wasting away beneath the tattoos and scars that mark him.
The stag backs away slightly at Elghund's approach, clearly not willing to have the half-orc draw near to it yet. It's body language is wary as though it does not yet know what to make of you. It speaks "I am warden to my kin that walk here. Those that passed were many, what makes you think that you have strength to match them?"
Klo can see that the stag appears outwardly no different to a normal elk... but that does not give him any confidence of what the creature might be. Rikka similarly sees nothing that telltales a specific breed or origin to the stag.
Skäne eyes narrow as the tidings of the large force opposing them comes to light;
Strength enough in iron and the arms that wield it elgr...
When the stag backs away a bit Annalisa speaks up, "You need not fear from us, none of those that walk with me mean you harm. I give you my word on my life."
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Elghund now reveals his true motive to the stag as he closes the distance on it, iron in hand.
As he lurches forwards it doesn't take long to connect that a talking white stag might be somewhat of an attractive trophy for a hunter, especially a hunter from the snow covered and superstitious lands where the antlers, blood, hide, and skull of such a beast would no doubt hold high value amongst the superstitious... as if there was ever any doubt about the dark intentions of an Orc approaching a large walking and talking meal...
Attack
Damage
Annalisa gasps as Elghund moves to attack, "Elghund! No!"
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Annalisa:
Rikka:
Elghund:
Skane:
Stag:
Action Tracker (Surprise Round): Stag, Elghund
Action Tracker (Round 1): Annalisa, Skane, Rikka, Stag, Elghund, Klo
The stag reacts to Elghund's lack of subtlety with aggression of it's own. Before the orc is able to bring his own weapon to bear, he finds himself charged. The elk lowers it's antlers and bears down on the bloody minded tracker...
Charging Power Attack Gore: for
...the points of the antlers sinking deep into Elghund's chest and cracking ribs as the air is explosively blown from his lungs.
Charging Sneak Attack Rapier: for
...and a miniscule figure with butterfly wings, a cruel leer and rapier now dripping with blood watches with mirth as the orc struggles to draw breath and relies upon the beliggerence of it's bloodline to stay standing.
Round 1
Skäne spits a grim laugh and draws his blade;
"Hah! The Orcné has big ballr! Elgr for supper!"
:
:
:
"There's FEY FOLK!"
Scent as written has active and passive, it's supposed to let you know things are nearby, but pinpointing further info is supposed to be a move action, and they shouldn't really be able to mask smells unless the stag smells as strongly as a troglodyte or the like (Strong smell). Otherwise they should have shown up as two smells. I kinda rely on that ability to work that way per RAW to avoid Elghund getting jumped like that (being able to sniff out an ambush) which is kinda why I paid the Feat in. And yeah, he was committed to the fight, so he'll be up with Ferocity
Kló stands pole-axed as the scene plays out, only able to register a scowl at the orc before the violence breaks out.
RD 1
Annalisa was too shocked by the sudden outbreak of violence to see Elghund get injured but was ready with a blade and moved into the fray before the fray came to her.