Tora no Senaka - The Back of the Tiger (Inactive)

Game Master Dreaming Warforged

Am I the only one creeped out by the cleric being the one to clean up the scene? :P Also, do I know anything more about the path and whether it will slow us sufficiently that it's faster to go around? I'll post a bit later but I want to give Pavel a chance to get something up. Feel free to disregard my rolls if you've established I have this knowledge.

Knowledge(Geography): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11 for how rugged the trail is.
Knowledge(Engineering): 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (16) + 11 = 27 for what difference that makes for the wagons.

Would favored terrain count on the hilly path?

Hills would count.

"I'm pruh'pretty well-versed in hilly cuh'country- muh'maybe I can reduce our ruh'risks a little as we go on the fuh'fast route.", Pavel says, shrugging. "We're takin' a lot o' ruh'risks as it is- wuh'we cut time off, less time in the wuh'worst weather."

"Ah, I see that the decision is still being made. Based on what both Garand and Pavel have said and my own recollections, it seems the that this is merely a trade-off between risk and speed. Going through the hills should be faster, even if it is rougher, and going around simply avoids the hazards associated with the path." Daeron pauses, obviously trying to recall some fact that is only half remembered. After a moment, he continues, "Of course, I seem to recall that Raith mentioned other dangers awaiting us at our destination? Something about fiends perhaps? If so, it may be tactically advantageous to take the shorter route. You trade short term expected danger for a longer term advantage against your foes. Ultimately, I'm along to support your endeavor as an adviser, so I leave the decision in your hands. For my part, I would suggest going through the hills."

Remember that Ameiko didn't worry about speed so much, as it was decided you would spend the worst of winter in the Outer Rim, and not further north.

Not sure if that was a 'subtle' GM suggestion to NOT go through the hills. I think the group had that particular conversation before I joined up though. I'm not sure what Daeron has learned about the group's plans since. Let's pretend I deliberately chose to exclude that from my IC analysis for RP reasons. ;)

Not at all. Both ways are fine, I just wanted to point out there is no time pressure this time.

Pavel shakes his head.
"We can tuh'talk ourselves in circles all day about this. Anything cuh'could happen, but with the choice before us, wuh'we should take the luh'least risky route. More luh'lives than ours are at stake and we planned pruh'pretty well."

Daeron nods along thoughtfully as Pavel is speaking, his eyes distant as he thinks. "Hrm, you seem to have succinctly struck at the heart of the matter Pavel. It seems I gave too much importance to speed in my own calculations. If that is the route you suggest, then I have no objection."

The caravan sets out west, leaving the hills to its right while it eases down in a wide tundra, entering a wide region named Hasanaliat. This area is heavily settled by the Erutaki people.

Staying east, you avoid the bigger settlements and enter the Bearleg Lakes region. This area is rich with wildlife and you find ample supplies provisions.

Your scouting party encounters a few small bands of raiders, but you manage to fend them off easily, and they go look for easier preys.

You pass many lodges and cabins, but they are abandoned in the winter, until one day, you see one in the distance with a firelight in its single window...

Theoden stops, peering in the distance. "It appears we are expected. And I see no reason to keep them waiting. Onward! I say." Theoden spurs Pride on, back to their casual pace toward the cabin.

Daeron peers curiously at Theoden before shrugging and saying, "I'm surprised that is the conclusion you draw from this. All the other structures we have come across have been abandoned and yet you were expecting one not to be? I suppose this is some arrangement made to ease this winter crossing if that is the case." Daeron fidgets with his cloak clasp as he gazes at the light thoughtfully, visibly uncomfortable.

Raith looks to Pavel, "Quick and quiet?"

Raith moves with Pavel. Stealth1d20 + 12 ⇒ (1) + 12 = 13

"Always."
Stealth: 1d20 + 13 - 1 ⇒ (18) + 13 - 1 = 30

Daeron watches as Raith and Pavel begun to approach the cottage stealthily. Sighing quietly, he shrugs and motions after them before saying, "I'm far from being stealthy. My attempt to sneak up on this cottage would end poorly I think. Manulani, follow them quietly and report back quickly if there is danger." As the elemental flies to catch up, Daeron seeks out Garand before asking, "Are we expected? This was the impression that Theoden gave me, but it seems highly unlikely. Have you any thoughts on what is to be done?"

Stealth for Manulani: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (18) + 12 = 30

Theoden grins at the wizard's confusion. "My good man, if there's a light on and I'm approaching, it's only natural for one to be expecting one such as I." He gives a wink, grinning wryly, as he returns his attention to the cabin ahead, completely confident in his approaching of the building.

"We're not raiders. No reason to skulk about, I think, but also no reason to not let those skilled at stealth practice their skills. Whoever dwells here does so openly, with no fear of frost giant raiders, it seems, so I doubt that they will regard us as a greater threat." Garand says quietly, moving forward at a leisurely pace, making no attempt at stealth, but not setting up signal flares either.

"And that is food for thought. Does the resident ahead have a special deal with the local giants, being as wicked as they? Or are they so powerful that the giants fear them? Either notion brings pause to overconfidence..."

I should have been more clear. You've cleared the area where the raiders were operating when you left the mountains. They could strike, but it is quite unlikely this early in winter.

The light flickers in the cabin as Theoden approaches in the open, astride Pride and followed by Garand and Daeron, while on his left, moving behind a small ridge, Pavel and Raith arc on an orbit converging toward the cabin.

As you stand about 50 feet from the cabin, the door opens and an Erutaki trapper walks out. Clad in heavy furs under cured leather, his skin is puffy and tanned deeply by a life spent outdoors. His eyes are like thin slits and he smiles a toothless smile as he greats you in common: "Good Day travelers. What brings you out on the Aganhei so late in the season? You are welcome to share my fire if you wish, but I tell you now, no funny games. I'll defend my skin if you try to rob me. Ahahah!" To support his claim, he shifts the grip on a nig axe laying at his side.

Theoden looks over at Daeron, grinning and giving a nod. "Good day to you, my good man! And trust me, I don't believe any of this crew would play fun games. They're way to serious about, well, everything." He winks, grinning wryly. "We'd be glad to share your fire, sir, as friends for certain." Theoden rides up to him. "Theoden Orrick's the name. How, pray tell, do you survive in this forsaken land?"

"Don't play games? Is that a mouse I heard over the ridge..? I survive like you do, but when winter comes, I go back to my village. I'm no fool..."

Raith watches the man. He looks at Pavel waiting to see what he wants to do.

To clarify, he's speaking Common (e.g. Taldan)?

Daeron returns Theodan's nod with a thin smile and an arched eyebrow but remains silent as he introduces himself. So I suppose it is someone 'waiting' for us after all. Odd that a man alone would survive out here on his own. As the pair before him finish speaking, Daeron clears his throat and says, "It's impressive that you are able to survive on your own in so inhospitable a land, elder. As Theoden has indicated, we are not interested in playing games, but prudence would suggest it wise to be vigilant against the unexpected. Aganhhei -as I believe you called it- has been abandoned until we encountered you." Daeron pauses for a moment, clearly abashed, "Pardon me, elder. I have not introduced myself. I am called Daeron Lareththor but simply Daeron should be preferable between friends. Is there a name you would wish to be called?"

Knowledge: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18 Either history or geography to see what I know about the customs of the Erutaki, specifically with respect to outsiders and interactions thereof.

Garand shrugs, recalling that the giant territories seemed to be more southerly, Perhaps they don't raid this far north?

He leads stag-spirit forward with the others, having dismounted in case of a fight, as he does not trust his meager riding skills to the uncertainties of combat.

As the others are proving long-winded in their introductions, he reverts to Shoanti stoicism and merely nods a greeting to their host, keeping his free hand on stag-spirit's shaggy shoulder, while his withered hand clutches his shield.

"One learns the way of the land. One learns to respect the land, then one can survive it. As I said, you're welcome to come in and share my fire."

Satisfied that nothing untoward is going on just yet, Pavel steps out of hiding and joins the others.

Raith follows. He says in Varisian to Pavel, "Damn shapechangers make me mistrust everyone we meet."

Raith will give the man a good look over and scan the house.

Perception:1d20 + 15 ⇒ (16) + 15 = 31/Sense Motive1d20 + 15 ⇒ (5) + 15 = 20

Daeron glances as his companions rejoin the party. With a swift nod to Raith and Pavel, he returns his attention to the old man and says, "I believe we would be happy to share you fire, elder." Daeron emphasizes the last word. Did I miss his introduction? Shrugging uncomfortably to rearrange his furs, he continues, "Coming from a significantly less harsh land, I am truly impressed that you are able to survive so well here. You mentioned that you will return to your community from this place before the end of the season, is it really so inhospitable here?"

The man looks at Daeron: "As winter comes, the days grow ever shorter, until they give you barely enough time to look at your wife and children. The wind is the main danger, for it will rob you of your warmth in but a few minutes, leaving you frozen in place. As you travel north, the cold becomes ever fiercer, and the sun altogether disappears from the sky. You only see its glow above the horizon for a few minutes."

He waves you inside the cabin: "Enough fire has been wasted already. Join me or not, but decide now, as I will close this door to keep the warmth inside. From your clothes, I can tell you don't need the fire so badly as I do, but the fire is the fire, and it does a lot more than warm old bones."

With that, he moves inside the cabin and waits for you to decide before closing the door.

Garand nods his appreciation, and leaves stag-spirit to stand watch outside, not wishing to offend their host by trying to bring a wild animal into his home (even assuming it's antlers could pass through the door...).

"A fire shared warms the soul, as surely as the body. My thanks." he says solemnly as he crosses the threshold.

Frowning slightly as he considers what the man has said, Daeron begins to follow Garand. Absorbed in his mental calculations, he doesn't notice as Manulani appears at his side and glances into the hut curiously. Daeron starts as he crosses the threshold, his reverie temporarily broken, before he says, "Ah, thank you grandfather. You are most kind to welcome us into your home."

Theoden dismounts. "Let me know if you see anyone that you just don't like, my four-legged friend." He grins as he pats him on the neck. "Thanks from me as well, my good man!" Theoden says graciously as he turns and moves to enter the cabin. "Oh and just to be clear, when I spoke of 'fun games', I meant games that are fun. You know, games. As in... games." He shrugs as if he really doesn't no how better to explain it. "While I know very little of Daeron, the rest of these gentlemen...," he stops, noticing the man looks a bit lost on what he's trying to explain. "Ummm, you know what, never mind." Taking a quick look around, "Nice place you got here. Nice."

If Raith sees and detects nothing out of the ordinary, he follows the others in giving a polite nod to The Man. Anyone get his name?

Pavel steps inside last, closing the door behind him.
"Thanks.", he says before finding himself a seat.

The radiation from the fire warm your clothes slowly, sending annoying moisture back in the air and away from your skin. Despite the incantations protecting you, the feeling is welcomed.

The man passes around pieces of smoked meat. "My name is Ektebechan. Where are you all heading?"

Daeron glances around the hut briefly before sitting and settling comfortably near the fire. Sighing in contentment, he takes a moment to let the radiating heat dispel the lingering chill of the outdoors. With a brief smile, he accepts the proffered meat graciously. I wonder what, precisely, this meat is? Shrugging, he nibbles at the meat as he listens to the man's introduction. Glancing at his companions, he clears his throat quietly before saying, "Thank you again Ektebechan for your kindness in letting us shake off the cold. It has been a truly rare luxury of late to do so. Our expedition is bound for distant Tian-Xia."

Knowledge(Geography): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15 to determine if there are other destinations that one might go to from here aside from Avistan and Tian-Xia

Raith takes the smoked meat. He studies it. What is it? What does a man in a region this cold eat? Raith asks, "What is this meat? What do you hunt in lands this cold?

What type of meat does it appear to be? I'm not eating until I know.

Ektebechan looks at you: "You want to cross the Aganhei as winter comes. I hope you like the cold... Seriously, this is folly, unless you stop to wait for the worst of the cold season to pass. Mmmh... Yes, there are a few places where you could spend some time, but I tell you, they don't like strangers so much! Be careful on the road. Pay your respect to the Morozkos!"

He turns to Raith: "There is plenty of game in this country. This is elk meat. Delicious, but it fights back. Best to chew it slowly."

Pavel bites off a chunk of meat, asks his question while still chewing it.

"Who are the "Muh'Morozkos"?"

The Erutaki looks at first like you have offended him or made fun of him, like asking him 'What is snow?', but then he seems to reflect and calms down. "The Morozkos is the blizzard that sweeps through the Great Ice, destroying everything on its path. In Common, it means 'The Hungry Storm'. If you see the blizzard in the distance, go the opposite direction... As fast as you can!"

Daeron listens carefully to the old Erutaki's reply. It seems that stopping is the only path that makes any sense after all. Who are these mysterious strangers though? As he returns his attention to the conversation, he wracks his mind in an attempt to recall who these strangers might be. Ektebechan recaptures his intense focus as he replies to Pavel's question. Massively destructive blizzards I can understand, but he makes them sound alive. With a slight contemplative frown, Daeron asks, "You make it sound like this Morozkos is alive. Like some sort of elemental or primal being rather than a naturally forming weather pattern. Is this so? Fascinating if that is the case. I can't recall another instance of this sort of phenomena before." Realizing he had begun to ramble, Daeron stops for a moment to collect his thoughts and then continues, "Also, you mentioned we might be able to shelter with someone. Someone who doesn't care for strangers. Would you mind telling us more of them?"

Knowledge(Geography): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20 to determine what Daeron knows about the Morozkos.
Knowledge(???): 1d20 ⇒ 7 to determine what Daeron knows about the mysterious people we could shelter with.

Ektebechan shrugs: "Alive, dead... The Morozkos is not just a storm. It feels, it sees. It will change its path to destroy settlements or target caravans. And it has grown more daring, venturing south now, almost all the way to the Aganhei..."

"As for a place to rest for a few months, there is the Erutaki village of Iqaliat, if you keep travelling north. It's about a week north of the Aganhei. The trail starts when the great river forks in two, but that's still a long way from here. I'd say a month or so..."

?

As the man finishes speaking, Daeron strokes his jaw thoughtfully before saying, "I don't mean to impose by asking all these questions, but this has been highly informative. Hopefully you won't mind a few more?." Daeron grins ruefully as he pauses. I suppose I just asked a question. A few more shouldn't hurt too badly.

"It might take a month to get to this village you say? When will the whether take a turn for the worse then? Would they be receptive to strangers sheltering with them for a time?" Asks the wizard in quick succession, though pauses between each to allow Ektebechan time to answer.

"I don't like staying amongst strangers. If we have no choice, we'll do it. The caravan has quite a few. The horses won't survive in this climate. That's easy to see. I don't think we have much choice but to make for this village."

Garand does not like the sound of this 'Hungry Storm,' as he cannot imagine that the advice to 'run from it' would be a viable tactic for a caravan full of wagons, unless it is the slowest moving storm to ever exist.

Remembering the caravan, he turns to Daeron, "Might your companion check again upon our friends behind, to ensure that they have not encountered difficulty in our absence?"

He spends his time quietly ruminating over the various possibilities if the group encounters this storm, such as whatever sort of minimal defense a wind wall might provide against a hostile weather condition, or if the creature is an elemental being that might be subject to dismissal... I must consult with Daeron on such matters, he is likely better versed in the creatures of the planes than I, or, if nothing else, his companion likely is, being a creature of the planes itself.

"Can you tuh'tell us a little about the Erutaki? Wuh'we're obviously pruh'pretty ignorant to your people. We nuh'need to know a bit about the customs 'round here."

Daeron turns his attention from the old Erutaki as Garand addresses him. That would indeed be a wise thing. He turns to address his familiar but finds the little elemental already standing. Manulani bows to Garand and begins to swagger towards the door self-importantly. He opens the door and exits, shutting it behind.

Shivering against the sudden gust of cold, Daeron turns to Garand and says, "I suppose that he will indeed be checking on the expedition. Normally he doesn't care to be ordered around, but you seem to have some knack for it." The elf wizard casts a casual sidelong look at their host before asking quietly, "What do you make of all this? If all this is true, then our dangers may be waxing as we travel rather then waning. In particular, these storms... these Morozos are highly unusual. A storm should be a matter of chance and nature, not malevolence as has been suggested. I shall have to think on it some more and perhaps consult with some notes that I have."

Manulani is going to check on the caravan but will probably be self aggrandizing and irritating about his 'most important-est task'.

His gaze goes from Daeron to Pavel, then a smile cracks his cheeks: "We Erutaki roam the land north of Urjuk. We have built villages in places where few can survive. We are proud, that's true, and slow to trust, as the ice too often leads us astray and leads the fool to his death. But we are devout and know the importance and strength of a bound community."

"We worship the spirits found in all things, but are most fearful of the howling winds that scream across the High Ice!"

"If you want the community to accept you. Show your usefulness! They'll be more enclined to keep you if they think you can bring something to the community, not just take from it! Oh, and the head of an ice troll is always well received, as well as lots of fresh fish, ahahah!"