"Perhaps we can sell some of our gains when we reach the city. I'm in desperate need of a better bow as our enemies seem to be getting stronger." Cara laments as she readies herself to continue the journey.
Geedra' eyes light up at seeing the trove of gems and gold. "Here, group take ring of Feather Fall and Bladed belt. Not do Geedra any good. Geedra am not interested. Geedra like gems, though. Cara can buy bow with share, Geedra find magic with Geedra's.". Once the group had stripped the chapel of its magic nad jewels , she joined the others outside and listened to the shaman.
"I don't really need either the belt or the ring myself..." Well--maybe the ring? Never knew when you'd be dropped off a ledge. "Skane, it seems more your style? The belt can turn into pretty much any bladed weapon at will, and you can enchant it like you would a common sword. I need to keep this sword so I can properly connect with it later... but being able to have a hidden weapon you can change to exactly what you need seems helpful."
Skäne pockets the fire opal, then listens to the others words;
"I takk this hyrr-men ..."
The big warrior nods in agreement at Katie's assessment and takes the belt also;
"True Rosten. A weapon beyond auga is a useful advantage... I will takk the balti ."
You divvy up the loot from the church and set off with Krosh at the helm, the half-orc vowing to lead you to Whitethrone. The shaman seems to have a strangely unerring sense of direction, or at least is very confident in his movements, as he never breaks stride and moves with purpose. You trudge through the tundra of Irrisen throughout the whole day, pushing against snowdrifts and wind, but fortunately do not encounter anything that wishes harm against you. Night falls and you set up a small campsite, striking up a fire to warm yourselves against the arctic twilight. Krosh communes with the spirits by firelight, palming talismans and thumbing fetishes and other foci. Before bedding down for the night, the shaman fully heals everyone with his magic.
The watch rotates and the night is without event. You break camp in the morning and continue on. An hour into the travels on this new day, Krosh updates you on your progress.
"Small village is near. Ellsprin, I think it is called. Last stop before we see the great lake, and around on northern shore is the white city. How we get in and move about there, I do not know. Bad place. Riders know better than me, I expect."
You recall Nadya referring to an uncle in Whitethrone whom she said would help you gain access to the city.
Not a half hour after Krosh's update, you crest a small hill and see a solitary wooden house that sits on the outskirts of a small village, partially surrounded by a small grove of trees and hardy shrubs, far from the other houses of the village. A thin column of smoke rises from the chimney, but there is no other sign of life from within, and the window shutters are pulled closed. Fifteen feet in front of the homestead, a humanoid shape lies facedown- the snow around it is dyed red with blood.
"I will sneak closer and look around the area. I'll signal Aran to bring you closer once I am satisfied it is not a complete ambush." Cara says to her companions, before trudging off quietly to approach the house.
+2 if Human
Geedra waits for the signal from the elf. She’d learned it was wise to let the bigger folk rush into the new places, looking around everywhere. She was happy to hang back while the initial rush happened. ”Geedra wait.”
Skäne nods in agreement at Cara's strategy, and offers caution...
"Step warily Álfrmær..."
... before tempering it with his usual gruffness;
"... we do not want to bjarga rescue you..."
Katie's hand tightens on her sword, but she gives a nod and waits for Cara's go-ahead.
If he's not a bad guy bleeding out right now, then she wants to heal him. Otherwise... Well, she'll wait for Cara's signal.
The plan is set, and Cara crouches and sneaks off towards the body, taking extra precaution to be unseen and unheard while simultaneously doing her best to see and hear others..The rest of the group holds off and stands back, readying themselves should the situation turn hostile.
Approaching the cottage and the body, your eyes scan the nearby expanse of open terrain and the line of bushes and grove of trees. Nothing appears out of the ordinary until you get closer to the body. Aside from the tracks that obviously belong to the person slumped in the snow, a smaller set is also present, but they move past where the body lay. Crouching down at the form, you ascertain that this human male of middling age is dead, though very recently. His still-bleeding form has been gashed by sharp, thin lacerations limned in rime. Steam wafts faintly from the wounds, his blood still warm.
The second set of smaller tracks continue on towards the house and suddenly end a few paces away from the door. Stilling yourself and ignoring even your own heartbeat, you let your ears listen to the still air around you, and you hear heavy breathing from within the cottage, and almost what seems to be faint sobs.
Cara does her best to move quietly back to her companions and informs them about what she finds.
"Based on what I saw and heard, I believe the smaller set either belongs to a child or something small that killed the man. In either case, I believe we should approach carefully and enter the house."
Skäne scowls then spits at the news;
"Nei. An innocent barn would hide... I say brenna the hus. Whatever killed the man is inside..."
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"Sure, Geedra like fire! Fire am good at chasing out murderers. If group want burn down house, Geedra am good with plan!"
"I'm... not sure about that. The thing that killed the man is in there, sure, but there could also be a crying child! Or some kind of crying ghost, which would mean the fire wouldn't hurt it anyways."
Katie tilts her head to and fro, worrying her lip. Not trying to help a crying something just doesn't sit right with her, but she can get why her companions wouldn't want to take the risk.
"Besides, if the house is emptied out, we could have a definite place to sleep for the evening?"
Geedra kicks the ground. ”If not burn, then go explore,” Geedra says as she points at Cara and Katie. ”Geedra follow behind.”
"I'm alright with taking point. I have a sword, after all... might as well use it."
She laughs, drawing it and putting it over her shoulder.
"I'm the one who's wanting to not set the place on fire, so it's only fair that I take the responsibility, right Skane?"
Skäne shoots Katie a black look, then shakes his helmed head;
"Nei. I will liggja us in... You barely knew how to hold a sverð before I met you Rosten!"
The warrior hefts sword and shield and walks toward the door of the house...
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"I'm a smith's daughter, y'know... so it came up plenty... even if I was only half listening or etching something cool into the side of the blade most of the time..."
Katie, your team is probably about to go into battle. Is this really the time to be pouting?
Yes, yes it is apparently.
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[ooc]Heheh. Skane? Not sentimental? I disbelieve, time for a will save.
With her bow in hand, Cara follows behind Skane and Katie as the group approaches the house. Her expression appears somewhat focus as she attempts to ignore what she assumes is flirting between the humans.
With a bit of banter and preparation, you move as a unit towards the house, wary for whatever it was that recently killed the human in the snow. Krosh follows along, content to walk the path of you riders. This time, without Cara's solo pinnacle of stealth, you make a bit more noise with the crunching of snow, the clangor of armor, and the rustle of bags and satchels; enough noise to draw a voice out from within the cottage.
"Turn back, run!" the voice proclaims. It seems to be a woman's voice, probably human, yelling in Skald. "The fey linger! They killed my husband!"
Before you have time to react, figures suddenly appear around you. From the bushes nearby suddenly appears some sort of animate amalgam of sticks and twigs woven tightly into a two-foot tall sinister looking form of roughly humanoid shape. It makes a noise like the rustle of dead branches and the creak of old wood as it stalks a few steps beyond the foliage.
Simultaneously, ahead of you and just in front of the door to the cottage, another small creature suddenly materializes into sight. White-skinned, pointy-eared, big-eyed, and fanged, this three foot tall fey looks something like a goblin and elf mixed together with a heavy dose of sinister cruelty. It spreads its thin, rimed lips wide, a repellent grin of sharp teeth filling its lower face. It holds up clawed hands, still bloodstained.
Krosh speaks from the back, his voice muffled by his stag skull helm. "Quickling. Twigjack. Small, but very dangerous..."
Init:
Skäne: 21
Katie: 19
Fey: 18
Cara: 17
Geedra: 14
Krosh: 4
Geedra:
Skane:
Katie:
Krosh:
Fey:
As the two loathsome fey appear Skäne scowls then spits in quick measure;
"Illt fey! I will handle the stikkær that walks... You lot butcher the smiler!"
The vikingr charges the twigjack, sword raised as he bellows toward it ;
:
:
Katie makes sure to position herself between the quickling and their archer/witch/shaman trio, keeping her buckler up. Having learned her lesson from last time, she opts to leave the act of 'hitting the target' to Cara for the moment as she bursts into song.
"Ja kom närmare ett slag
Hör du mina andetag?
Blodet rusar vilt och hett
Ja på många skilda sätt"
The two ulfen spring into action, Skäne charging to engage the twigjack before it can join the melee and Katie putting herself between the quickling and the ranged members of the group. Skäne comes down fast and hard on the twigjack, his trusted blade smashing solidly into the woody fey. The thing chitters out in some sort of strange cry, but the blade doesn't bite as deeply into the creature as expected. Katie swells up into song, her Skaldic verse surging across the battlefield. The eldtrich weaving of her voice laces through her allies in sonorous elevation.
The twigjack strikes back, lashing out with both of its frost-limned, gnarled claws. Both blows slip past Skäne's defenses, lessened by his previous charge. The claws themselves don't have much strength behind them, but they burn with an otherworldly cold that infuses the Viking's wound with rime.
The quickling takes a light step forward, rubbing its bloody talons together gingerly. The cruel look upon its face is unnerving. It speaks out in common, though doing so obviously brings it great disgust. "Filthy, verminous human....vile scum marring this land...must be purged.." The quickling narrows its eyes at Katie and suddenly blitzes forward with blinding speed, appearing nothing more as a blur as it is upon her with a ravaging claw, and then is suddenly fifty feet away to the right. His movement is over in a flash, and drops of red stain the snow beneath Katie, a wound having appeared on her arm.
plus
plus
plus
Skäne's grimaces as the otherworldly cold creeps through his blood.
Buoyed by Katie's song the warrior roars and brings sword to bear again;
:
:
Geedra uses her Fortune Hex on Cara, hoping her bow will do enough damage to finish off the evil Fey.
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Bolstered by Geedra's Hex and Katie's song, Cara turns her attention to the quickjack and fires two arrows at the strange fey creature.
Katie lets her song fall off after one round, trusting in its lingering effects to take care of the rest.
She repositions herself again between the quickling and her friends, and casts Mirror Image to help herself not get stabbed a second time.
"Ah-ah-ah. I don't like being purged. Let's maybe not do that!"
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Cara's eyes move swiftly in following the unnaturally quick fey, her gaze matching the blur of its form as it speeds across the snow, clawing Katie before leaping away. Fluidly her bow glides into motion, an arrow finding the string as Cara unerringly guides the weapon, honing in on the creature with almost supernatural precision. Geedra's subtle manipulations and Katie' robust performance entwine, imbuing the archer's eyes with that of an eagle, her arms with that of a serpent ready to strike.
Two arrows split the air like a silent lightning bolt, and as the quickling skids a half-step to a stop in a spray of rime, the wicked grin on its face from the wound it has just inflicted suddenly falls away as one arrow bites down into its chest, and the second buries into its forehead, nestling deep through its skull. It falls over unceremoniously in a lump in the snow.
Krosh holds up his gloved hand, and he whispers something that cause flames to dance to life in his palm, soon enwreathing his whole hand. He marches towards the downed fey.
Skäne brings his blade down on his woody adversary again, hewing once more into the strange plantlife fey, edge of blade scoring a bloodless gash.
The twigjack seems to freeze for a moment, realizing that its ally is already dead. It trembles like a sapling in a windstorm and withdraws, diving backwards into the brush. As it does so, its form dematerializes into a spectral swirl of leaves.
Krosh kneels down next to the body of the quickling and places his fiery hand upon it. The embers take to the body and set it aflame. "Snow and ice can heal such winter spirits. Best to burn the bodies." He looks down at the flames and seems to relax, becoming unresponsive for a minute before he shakes his head and stands back up. Removing his stag helmet, he looks to you. "In the flames, I saw the red hound and its pack I saw before. They are near."
Geedra casts Detect Magic and quickly scans the area. If she detects nothing, she moves to the house and quickly pokes her head in there as well. "Group am need magic. Geedra find," she explained to the others.
"They get healed by the cold?" Ah, what she wouldn't give for that sort of bonus for herself. As it stands, she has to use a CLW on herself.
With that done, it's time to yell back at the cottage.
"U-um..! We beat the fey! It's safe now!"
Bereft of an adversary Skäne scowls, then lumbers back to where the quickling lies burning. He absentmindedly leans his hand in to warm it from the pyre flames.
At Krosh's words the vikingr grimaces;
"Ach. Most likely the hundr will smell the mat-búa fey slátr ! Best ware of their komming..."
"While we should stay wary for more creatures with the desire to kill us, perhaps we should make contact with that female voice we heard at the beginning of the melee. She might be able to give us more information, although she did not seem to be speaking the Common tongue." Cara suggests as she makes her way swiftly to the cottage to look around.
As Skäne and Krosh murmur to one another by the burning fey corpse, the women move towards the cottage. Cara approaches swiftly yet cautiously, ears pricking to pick up on any more voices or other sounds, while Geedra hums as she channels her eldritch patron to see with arcane sight, but to her dismay does not locate any mystical auras in the area not native to any compatriots. Katie simply calls out to anyone in the house, announcing safety.
More whispers from within the house, and this time a second voice chimes in, a harder tone than the first voice but still feminine. They seem to be discussing, perhaps even having a hushed, short argument, but eventually the original voice calls out. "The fey are gone? Please don't hurt us!"
The second voice, strangely familiar, calls out next. "Stand clear of the door, no sudden movements..."
You gather about ten feet from the door and it opens slowly - you see that the bottom point of a hatchet is being used to pull it, then it suddenly opens wide and a figure steps firmly into the doorway, blade and axe in hand.
Nadya.
Her fingers grip her blades tightly and a woman stands in her shadow behind, looking apprehensively out the door. Your old friend stands in disbelief, blinking at the sight before her, and she takes a shaky step forward before breaking into a sprint, dropping her weapons into the snow as she quickly comes upon Cara and throws her arms around the elf.
"I cannot believe it!" she exclaims, in common now. "I thought you were all dead! That storm! By the Gods and Ancestors!"
”Oh, hi, human woman. What woman am doing? Geedra am fine of course,” Geedra says as she plods into the cabin, looking around for a comfortable place to sit.
Having grown more fond of the human woman than she realized, Cara finds herself returning the hug with a relieved smile, "We are glad to see that you are still alive as well, Nadya. We had thought the worst had befallen you also." Cara then takes a quick look around, "Please tell us that your children are okay?"
Skäne hails the tough frontierswoman with nod of his helmed head;
"Well met. Aye we still live..."
The warrior keeps his eyes scanned to the surrounding area, wary still of Krosh's warning of the red hound and pack...
:
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"I am so glad to see you all safe...and yes, my boys are alive, thank the ancestors. I had intended on bringing them to Ellsprin anyway. I was planning to move us here properly after I had finished taking you to Whitethrone. Now that you're here, I will still honor that vow, fear not...oh, where is Asgrid...?"
Before you can respond, Krosh moves forward and removes his skull helm and looks at Nadya. "The dwarf is alive, but not here. She is riding a different path, for now. Her spirit guides her through another realm. Perhaps one day she will return."
Nadya raises an eyebrow to the half-orc, then looks to the rest of you as if to question his presence. "And who are you, exactly?"
"A servant, Huntress. I serve the spirits, and now the spirits have me serve these riders. I am Krosh. It sounds as though you serve them as well."
"Uh...well, they are my friends, if that is what you mean," Nadya replies.
"Hm..these ones are too important to have friends such as us, Huntress. But if your fondness of them helps you to serve, then good." Krosh walks off a few steps then and fiddles with a trinket handing from his neck, perhaps consulting with one such spirit.
From behind Nadya, the other woman's voice emerges.
"Not to interrupt, but..." she says meekly, voice obviously stricken by sorrow. She pushes her way out and lays eyes on her late husband's body, and tears well in her eyes. Nadya puts a hand on her shoulder.
"I am so sorry, Maret... I should have done something more." Nadya sighs; another death she takes the burden of.
"You protected me and my children are alive because of you...I could not ask for anything more..Borvald was a good man..to be hacked up by those fey..a fate he did not deserve.. thank you, strangers, for avenging my husband."
"These are my friends, Maret. Cara, Skäne, Katie, that is Krosh apparently, and that's Geedra there who just walked into your house," Nadya explains, doing her best to hide a grin at Geedra's brashness.
Upon entering the house, Geedra does sense magic on a hat hanging on a hook near the fireplace. This cottage is very cozy looking, complete with bear skin rugs and comfortable furniture. Hanging lanterns and the lit fireplace cast a warm glow across the den, and from the next room the smell of cooking venison wafts. A stairway between the two rooms goes up to a second level. Geedra also comes into sight of Orm and Mjoli, who run forward towards the goblin. "Don't eat our ears, Geedra!" they yell, laughing. Two other children, a boy and girl, appear on the stairs, crouching low and looking down in apprehension.
Outside, Nadya continues. "I didn't know if we'd ever meet up again, by I was planning on going out to look for you. I've been in Ellsprin a few days trying to regroup. We lost some sleds and dogs and most of our supplies. Maret had offered to house Orm and Mjoli while I searched for you, but now that we've come back together, I still will hold up my plan to lead you to the Fishcamps of Whitethrone and introduce you to my Uncle." She turns to Maret. "I wouldn't expect you to keep them now with everything that has happened. I'll make other arrangements for the boys -"
"No, we will watch them here," Maret interjects. "And that is that."
Nadya opens her mouth to counter but thinks better of it and looks back to you.
"That's that I suppose. I can have travel preparations completed in a day, if that's acceptable."
Geedra seemingly tried to take a smile at seeing all the children. It wasn’t the greatest effort. ”Even more human children Geedra am see. Not eat human ears, elf ears am much better, like Cara’s, of course.”
Geedra plops down in a dry spot as Fox gingerly steps in and curls up in front of the fire. ”Am sorry, new human, that husband died. Evil fey very bad.”. She pauses for a few seconds, and then asks, ”What with hat? Looks magicky to Geedra.”
"Geedra... nibbling on elf ears... Like Cara's..?"
Katie looks from the goblin to the elf and back to the goblin, before shaking her head furiously.
"A-a-anyways! A day is fine! I could use the rest anyways, slaying fey is tiring work even on a good day. Um... and, sorry. That we weren't here faster to stop the whole thing."
Nobody was able to be everywhere, no matter how good their sword-arm was. What happened today was just a reminder of that.
Skäne approaches the two women with a grim set to his jaw;
"Did your man die with a blade in his hǫnd Maret?"
At the appearance of the children the warrior softens a little, but stands stoic awaiting an answer.
"He..he fought them, while Nadya got us inside...but..they moved faster than could be seen, and their dark fey magic," the widow sobs. "Could you please...help me get him away from where he fell. I would like to give him..proper respects.."
"It is excellent to finally have some good news. I had feared the worst for you and your boys. Yes, since all is well except for the loss of Asgrid, we should return to our original plan whenever you are ready." Cara replies to Nadya, still appearing quite grateful to see the woman again.
Then, to Katie, "Yes, Geedra keeps threatening to eat my ears. I would appreciate it greatly that in the case of my demise, you prevent her from doing so."
Skäne nods approvingly at the manner of his death, and appeal for his rites.
"I vil carry this sonn of the Nord. To where do you wish his lík ?"
The warrior lays down his sword and shield, then moves to where Borvald lies...
Why is Katie suddenly being sparkly-eyed?
This is a question which should probably never be answered, but she gives Cara a quick nod. "I promise. Really."
Maret directs you in moving the body to the rear yard of the cottage, with Nadya and Skäne hefting the fallen man up to transport him. Indeed, after lifting him you see a sharpened handaxe half-buried in the snow beneath him; the weapon he used to defend his home and family against the fey.
As Geedra probes the magical auras within the home, the others go around back, Krosh trudging along in the back of the line.
"I'd like to raise a cairn, if we could..." Maret says softly, pointing out that there are shovels in the shed. .
After Borvald is buried and the stones laid atop his earthen tomb, Krosh clears his throat and steps forward towards the monument. He removes one of his trinket fetishes from his shoulder and sets it on top. "No greater honor than to feast in the halls of your ancestors, interred beneath the land of your fathers. Spirits guide you with their light through the dark beyond."
Inside, you meet Maret's son Jory and daughter Katlina, and are reunited with Orm and Mjoli. Maret's children are obviously afraid and crestfallen, but Orm and Mjoli are excited to see you all again, and are perhaps a bit more used to peril and death than the other children. Maret and Nadya serve you up some spit-roasted venison and bread with watery mead to wash it down, and the widow finally remarks on the fur hat that Geedra is fixated on. "An heirloom of Borvald's...there is protective magic in it. You can take it, especially if it will help you kill more fey...let every evil thing killed be Borvald's vengeance. And my own."
After dinner, Nadya excuses herself to go down to the village proper and check in on the dogs, to which Krosh abruptly snorts and chuckles. She shoots him a dirty look but he shakes his head, looking to the rest of you.
"Pack of hounds and their red-haired alpha...looks like we found it," he sighs. "The spirits jest, at times."
Slightly confused, Nadya continues and invites any of the rest of you to go down with her if you need to resupply, but Maret ensures you will stay here for the night.
Skäne nods at the request for a cairn, then belays Nadya;
"Nei. I will grafa the grave alone... Would do me weal for these red hands to do honest work."
Once done, he helps place Bolvar's body reverently in the grave. The big warrior places the man's hand axe by his side, along with a cup of strong liquor "to warm your bones und your throat in the next life..." before taking a draught himself.
Finally he helps stack the cairn and stands tired and stoic as the shaman speaks wise words.
When Maret bequeathes the Puka with the fur hat, Skäne reaches to his own belt and hands the widow one of his throwing axes;
"This throwing øx is kald járn ... Fey hate und fear it's bita. It is for you and your kinder to wield. May it bring you comfort and vengeance."
The warrior takes a gulp of mead with a hard smile.