Searching the inside of the carriage, Evelyn finds nothing for a moment, then a glint of gold under one of the seats catches her eye. Peering closer, she finds a golden necklace with a large sapphire pendant attached though the clasp is broken, like it was torn from the wearer's neck. Next to it, a ring with an intricate crest displaying a flower of some kind sits on the floor.
"Well, okay is different, but alive and I weren't if it wasn't for you. Ouch!" She smiles realizing that it is still going to seriously hurt once the adrenaline fades.
"I wonder who these guys were in life. They deserved better than this. These fey..." Nathara shakes her head. "This just isn't right. It's not honourable. No one should do that, not even to their worst enemies."
"Looks like our kidnappers might not be interested in money." She takes the necklace and ring and shows them to the party in explanation. Now that she knew there were no more undead lying in wait she'd calm down a bit, returning her weapon to it's walking cane form and going to check on the wounded starting with Mouse.
"They're... just bodies." Mouse says after a moment. "Who they were in life isn't what they are now. All of that is gone." she says, perhaps trying to rationalize the fact she'd just decapitated a corpse. "They..." she thinks for a moment. And comes up short, before shrugging.
"We should definitely get word out to their allies about who they are and what they're doing out here." she says, not taking her eyes off of the woman in front of her and the carriage she was searching.
Eirikr jumps over the fallen zombies where everyone else is gathering. "Dead things should stay dead" he says to himself, looking back at the now still bodies, a shiver going up his spine. Vague memories of Pharasman priests talking about this sort of thing but he can't remember anything specific.
When he gets to the rest of the party he sees Inire's injuries; he places his hand on her shoulder and imagines--skin sewing shut, wounds closing, like they were never there; glowing light appears on his hand and then Inire's injuries start to heal, just as he imagined.
"You were hurt, he says to her, before looking to see if anyone else needs healing.
"They're but vessels, their souls long gone. Dead bodies we've now restored to their eternal sleep" Tiferet says, a subtle grimace of pain still visible on her face. "Though they surely did a number on us girls" she adds, half-smiling, looking at Inire and Nathara.
Seeing how Elric is already tending to the half-elven chronicler, she takes a few steps toward her ash-skinned friend. "Come here, let me see if there's still something I can do. We wouldn't want Celindril to think her favorite model has taken up a career as a pugilist, now would we?" she quips, placing her hand on the Tiefling's cheek where the corpse's slam hit her.
"You know, when I first saw you and your sword, I must admit I didn't believe such a lithe creature could wield such a mighty weapon" she confesses, a slight embarrassment audible in her voice. "Never have I been so happy to have judged someone wrongly. You're as fast as you're lethal. If not a cougar, then surely a tiger" Tiferet states in admiration.
"Indeed, this looks like the Malassene's crest. I think I saw it a couple of years ago, in Oppara" she briefly states as Eve shows her findings.
Inire offers Eirikr a smile. "I was." and then looks to Tiferet as she starts to dig out her scroll, "But now I'm not." she says, turning her attention back to him. "Thanks." she tests her arm once more, and finds it to be in much better shape. Now that Eve has put her weapon away, she sheathes her own once more... incredibly conscious of its positioning.
"You need it more than me." she says to the large warrior woman.
"The trick is the same as art, song, and writing. If you force it, it won't work. This weapon isn't about force." she says after a moment of looking down at the hilt.
"Strange... it's clearly broken... so who broke it." Mouse says, once she moves her attention back to the jewelry, drawn back to it by the mention of its owner's name. "And why? It clearly means something to both parties, if it was cast aside like that intentionally.. moreso strange that a ring was."
"This little bruise is nothing I can't handle" she claims, affecting bravado. "I've suffered worse."
Though not much worse.
"Then I'm afraid I wouldn't be very good at wielding it" she says smiling gently, before turning her attention to the pendant. "It's indeed broken. And I don't believe the attackers put it back into the box after sundering it, so it was likely already broken before" she muses in response to Inire's observation. "A quarrel?"
"You look hurt," he says, furrowing his brow at Tiferets attempt to declaim her injuries. He shrugs his shoulder and puts his hand on her shoulder, and just as with Inire her injuries begin to heal.
"A trap?" he wonders, surveying the caravan. "Fey wouldn't want treasure, probably--but Do fey raise the dead?"
"I... thank you" Tiferet says, raising her gaze to meet Eirikr's. It is nice to have to do that, for a change. Though I was kind of hoping that would have become a nice scar the white-haired warrioress thinks, but immediately realizes the silliness of it. It would appear he's been blessed with divine powers; he doesn't seem the religious type though. This group is a never-ending surprise. A pleasant one, though.
"Mmh... Fey originate from the First World, a plane resonant with the raw, vibrant energies that originally made up the cosmos. The necrotic energies that are involved in raising the undead should be alien to them" she ponders. "Yuln mentioned bandits taking part in the raid. Perhaps a necromancer among their ranks? That would be a very strange alliance indeed, though."
"I'm not so sure. The sun is a blessing in the snow touched lands, but a scourge in Qadira. Likewise, the snow is a blessing here, but a scourge elsewhere. Both are involved in impermanent death." she says, drawing the literary analogues with relative ease. "The world only sleeps when covered in snow." she says quietly, as she looks at all the blood in the snow, and the dead men. She looks back to Eirikr, "Can we press onwards? Should we?" she asks him, because it had been his nose that they had followed, after all. Or at least Ashen's... and she couldn't very well ask Ashen.
"Fresh snow. Fresh tracks. No blood though, that makes it harder. Too many scents for Ashen to follow. I think I can pick up the trail though." he says, examining the snow to see if he can find any tracks.
Eirikr takes a few moments to examine the trail, but he can't seem to find anything useful in the chaos of the battlefield.
Nathara leans to the cart as the euphoria slowly fades and is replaced by pain, until the warmth of Tiferet touch and the magic of healing runs through her body. "I... thank you." she whispers. She is deeply embarrassed for having hardly achieved anything in the fight, but thankful for the proud warrior's aid.
Nathara tries to focus on the situation in the here and now instead. "I guess it is is difficult to track someone who flies. Hmmm..." she raises from her position at the cart and looks around, particularly she looks above - if those creatures can fly they may very well spy on them or even attack from above.
"Necromancy is a school of magic, if the most despicable one. A corpse once filled with life is filled with unlife, often tying the soul which once belonged to it - that is the reason why one can't simply cut a skeleton from wood and use necromancy, it's not the shape of the body that matters, but its previous life which is turned into a mocking of itself. Spells like this is not something that spelldancers do, but a wizard might. Or a follower of a dark god. But then their power would far surpass my own. Only someone very powerful could have done that and the components required would likely have been more valuable than the entire cart, including the box and its contents. The Dawnflower might have mercy on those who did violate life in such ways, because I cannot find any in my heart."
She repeats the lyrical elven formula she used earlier to cast "detect magic" and makes the gesture of splitting a veil in front of her eyes, looking for traces of residual magic.
She takes a few steps and peers into different directions of the forest. "Now, where would a gate to the first world most likely be? Likely in the where the forest is thickest and most untouched. Hm. Does the touch of winter extend in any particular direction?"
Eve pockets the trinkets once everyone that wants a look has had it."We can return it when we find her, are we able to carry our with our search or do we need to lick our wounds? They landed several harsh hits."
Nathara thinks back to her lessons in magic and her knowledge of creatures that are the very anathema of her faith. She remembers that a wizard of moderate power or a cleric of similar strength, or perhaps a bit weaker even, could cast a basic animate dead spell to form a zombie, but these foul creatures' speed indicates either enhanced knowledge or greater power.
The mention of necromancers makes Eirikr shiver. He kneels next to Ashen, close to one of the bodies, and mutters a half remembered prayer to Pharasma. "Lady of Graves, guide these souls--Lady of Graves, watch--judge them," he says, stuttering--he can't remember the rest of the words. He gets back up and looks to the rest of the party.
"Can't find the trail again. Found it earlier, but lost it. Too much happened. There wasn't any blood though, it was strange. Whoever left here, they weren't injured. Or weren't bleeding," he says. "If somebody else can find the trail, I think we should go. Don't know what they'll do with the princess. Don't know when they'll do it. Nobles, they don't like to made to wait. I can still fight, if you all can."
It takes a bit of work, but Eirikr and Ashen manage to sort through the foot prints, finding another set of boots disappearing back into the forest near the forest trail. Yet there is still no sign of blood leaving the field or signs of the fey. The group of intrepid adventurers now has the option to return to Heldren to recover, or press forward into the unexpected snowy danger of the Border Woods.
"We do need to be careful. There's a lot of danger in pressing forward. If we push too quickly, or too hard... we'll seriously endanger ourselves. Attrition is the biggest enemy of any group, on offense or defense. We do need to hurry, given the situation... but we also have to realize, it's six lives to one life, as far as we know. Even still... as long as you think we should press on, I think we should as well." she says, quietly. "If we go back now, the trail's likely to be ruined by the snow, right?"
Nathara nods to Inire and Eirikr, tests the grip Yuln's sword again and moves into position to get going. "What do we know about our enemies? The use cold magic, they are small, they can fly, they have at least one very powerful spellcaster. We would need to take that one down very quickly, should we encounter them and keep them from casting spells. But since they can fly, we may have to do so at range. Anything else?"
She gestures towards the broken crest. "May I see that? I would like to know whether there is magic, or residual magic in it."
"Against flying fey, we can use these" she says, handing Nathara, Inire and Eve one flask of alchemist's fire each. "I've got them from Teassaraea on credit, and from what I've seen, your aim is probably better than mine."
"Other than that, I believe we're once again in fighting condition" Tiferet says as she flexes her arm a couple of time, waiting for a sting of pain which doesn't materialize. She looks at Nathara – but she now sees only smooth skin where bruises used to be. She nods approvingly.
"We took quite a pounding, there's no denying it. I was reckless, and we've paid the price" she states, a hint of guilt in her voice. Turning toward Inire, she notices for the first time how she hasn't heard her steps since they started treading on the snow-covered ground. That gives her an idea.
"Inire. Once we resume our hunt, would you be willing to scout ahead of us? You can move unheard and unseen through the trees and warn us before we step into some other... surprise." Her tone is weary, as if realizing this is no small thing she's asking.
"By the way, Nath. I was almost forgetting. This is the sword I retrieved from the captain's hand. It's just mundane steel, but I believe it's better balanced than Yuln's. Would you like to give it a try?"
Nathara does not really believe that any of the events could be blamed on Tiferet. They had taken precautions, they just did not turn out sufficient in hindsight. They'd be smarter next time and not underestimate their enemy. She merely made a slight grimace and tried to send an encouraging look after it.
Nathara looks down at the sword in her hand and the one in the sheath. "Yes... the one spell I have left, apart from a few cantrips, is one to give a weapon magical properties, though. It does not have to be my own weapon, I could use it on your axe as well - it becomes easier to direct and sharper. Any one of us should use Yuln's sword, though." The last statement included all of them.
Nathara nods encouragingly to Inire. Of course she would do whatever was in her power to protect the cat of prey in the shape of a half-human. "I can use the art of spell dancing to cross long distances very fast. I would rather stay close enough to be able to reach her soon in case she needs help."
"I wouldn't mind scouting ahead... but the problem with that, at the moment... is that I'm not a tracker. It's unfeasible for me to lead when I have nothing to follow." Mouse says quietly. "I'll be happy to stay near the front and to the side, so that I can be aware of anything ahead of us from a different angle, if that's what you want." she offers after a moment.
"You don't need to track them just stay a little ahead, Eirikr can still point the way." Eve shook her head at the offered sword. "I'll stick with my gear, not very good with other weapons."
Desperately looking for someone to take one of her three swords she turns to Eirikr: "Ashen? Eirikr? Would any of you like to wield the Oerstag's Cleaver?"
"It would be wasted on me. I've spent most of my time learning to wield this... it's either this or dinner knives, if you expect me to hit anything." She said with her small smile, and a motion to her sword. "I guess the trail does mostly stand out, now that you mention it. I should be able to follow it, and worst come to worst, I'll wait for an expert." She offered. "But don't be too far behind me, please. I've read many stories, and heard nearly as many, of people who separate from their group and are simply never heard from again. We should hurry if we're going to move these bodies, though. Otherwise, the snow will ruin our ability to follow the trail at all."
She stayed where she was for now, allowing the others to determine their referred course of action.
Eirikr takes the sword without argument. He looks down at Ashen, who seems uninterested in the it, so he straps it to his belt without further comment.
"For nothing in the would I want to suggest you wield any weapon but Scribe, for you lead her with the grace of Ketephys. Your legend shall be hers and hers shall be yours."
Inire made a mental note to ask who Ketephys was later, when they weren't out in the cold, trying to piece other things together. "Thank you, I think." She says with a small nod of acknowledgement, mind still on the situation at hand.
"Take no unnecessary risks, Inire" Tiferet says apprehensively as she gets to work laying the bodies one next to each other, trying her best to give them at least a modicum of that dignity their killers unceremoniously denied them. "If we must fall into a trap, better it's the six of us facing it together rather than just one."
With means both mundane and magical, she does what she can to clean them of the encrusted blood and filth they're covered with before carefully laying them in the carriage. Hope Lady Argentea won't mind the stench. Those people gave their lives to protect her, after all. Even then, I believe she has more pressing concerns as of now.
Once she's done, she locks it with that same shaft she removed before. That should suffice against roaming beasts. Grunting and panting, she then proceeds to push it into the nearby wood, so as to conceal it at least a little from the road.
EDIT: Her muscles aching, Tiferet is forced to lay down her arms in defeat when the carriage refuses to budge. "Please" she pleads. "Any help?"
With the snow, it seems like it would take more than one person to move the carriage. It's simply too heavy to push alone.
"I'm... not going to be of much use, probably... but I'll try." she offers.
Eirirkr attempts to help Inire and Tiferet move the carriage.
With a great deal of effort, the three manage to get the carriage off of the road and safely against the trees, though attempting to move it deeper into the forest is simply not possible with the thick underbrush and snow fall.
With Inire and the tall young man coming to her help, the heavy, corpse-laden carriage is finally removed from the roadside. "Thanks guys" she says.
"If there's nothing else to be done here, we might start our hunt for Lady Argentea's captors. What say you?" she asks, addressing all her companions at the same time.
"Indeed", remarked Nathara.
Inire nodded. "Just stay close." She said, as she moved forward, interweaving with the trees to never stay in line of sight for longer than was absolutely necessary, slipping over the fresh snow with an easy grace.
"We will. Make way" Tiferet replies, trying her best to never lose sight of Inire as the agile half-elf soundlessly treads over the freshly fallen snow.
Nathara has her trouble keeping Inire in sight and making her own way as silent as possible, so that she can hardly watch her environment anymore.
She moves fluently and the school of a dancer becomes apparent, using the sword in her hand to maintain balance rather than fighting it. Every few steps she makes a fluent motion to the ground to check her distance and plan the next dance like steps without actually ever leaving the flow of motion.
The party travels down the trail, their scouts keeping quiet as they can as they move through the snow. The trail actually becomes clearer once you move away from the chaos of the ambush site and into the woods themselves. Though you can't tell how many precisely, a significant host of bandits must have passed through here on their way back to wherever they've made their camp.
As you pass by a deep gully, now pack with snow, you begin to find small specks of blood along the ground and scattered black feathers against the white snow. Soon, corpses of crows begin to appear dangling from the trees and impaled on broken branches.
Bandits would be a huge improvement over the zombies, Eve kept an eye out for any other attackers. "They killed the crows, Maybe a warning sign?"
"If that's the case, it's working" Tiferet says, a shiver running down her spine – and not because of the cold. "It's giving me the creeps." Trying to disregard the macabre scenario offered by the dead crows, she keeps her eyes open for signs of living threats.
Inire, from her forward position gives the folks behind her a shrug, and then waits for them to catch up. When they do, she's huddled under a tree that some of the crows are strewn throughout. "I haven't got a clue what's going on." she says, looking amidst the others. "I'm sure it's another omen... but I don't know anything about omens.." she says, with a frown. "Dead death birds could mean that they've blindfolded death to what they're doing? Like with the zombies?" she waits for the others to chime in.
Tiferet sees nothing moving in the trees. If anything, the forest is unnaturally quiet and still.
Tiferet concentrates on what the grim omen might portend, but as much as she rummages through her memories, she's unable to recall anything linking dead crows to warning signs or fey. She shakes her head, a puzzled look on her face, her hand nervously and subconsciously fidgeting with her axe's grip.
"Why else would anyone kill crows," says Eirikr, examining the corpses of the crows more closely. "Crows don't make the best eating, even if you can catch them. But something could catch them. But didn't want to eat them."
Nathara has no answer to Evelyn's question and looks automatically to Tiferet.
Examining the site, she takes a closer look at the feathers. Did they actually fall on top of the snow, after it had fallen? she wonders. Carefully she approaches one of the crows, which hangs low enough to reach. She scans the environment once again, before she turns her attention to the crow.
She speaks the formula of Detect Magic and makes the gesture of splitting the veil. She looks closely at it.
"Are crows sacred to the Lady of Graves or something like that?" she wonders aloud, even though more talking to herself.