You all rise from the water at nearly the same moment. Spitting and gasping for air as you breach the surface. The water cuts into your skin like ice daggers and robs the strength from your limbs with every moment.
As you make towards shore you can just barely make out a manor through the falling snow. Considering your desperate traits: the dark house seems like something out of a fairy tale. The thick snow obscuring it gives it a certain ethereal air.
There is no question that if you stay out in the cold, you will die.
The young Calivan staggers out of the water, barely noticing the other 4 emerging as well, like some waterlogged dead thing rising from the grave. He tries to use the magic in his blood to leech the water from his clothes but the shakes wracking his body prove too much to handle and his efforts prove useless.
As he remembers all he has lost he begins to despair, then notices the manor thru the swirling snow. Wrapping his arms around himself he trudges towards it, hoping that he can make it before he freezes. And that it is not a figment of his imagination.
The young girl rose from the chilling water with small rivers rolling from her metallic armor.
So cold... am I dead? She looked around, searching for Zephora and finds it just above the water level. She grabs it once more and close her eyes. She was once more on the middle a dark room, only slightly lit by a couple torches and countless shadow figures. One of them stepped forward, clearly not human for its bare clawed feet and hands... the 'folk from undermountain', with three heads hanging from his belt, an evil grim in his face and a big and charred hole into his chest. "Of courrrse you arrre not dead, you stupid girrrl... do you think you arrre worrrthy enough to join us? You'd be nothing but a shadow among them..."
Another shadowy figure stepped forward, now in the shape of a glorious warrior, perhaps from some northern kingdom, with more than two dozen arrows protruding from his skin. "Be quite Zarrasta... ve also do not know vhat is happening to the vielder..."
"I think she is alive..." said one of the heads from Zarasta's belt, a ginger woman. "We'd know if she was dead, wouldn't we, Maul?" The northern shrugged.
"Perhaps she is undead... like me..." Said another shadowy figure also approaching, a charred skeleton wearing an impeccable steal armor with no signs of the fire that consumed its owner. "... or at least as I was before that priest 'cleansed' my 'foul' spirit... the great King Lorthas..."
She opened her eyes, brought back to the current situation by another shiver. At least it is not the end yet...
She could not swim, so she walked to the shore, using her sword as a walking stick. She looks ahead and recognizes one of the two men already at the shore... two more figures were still on the water. Is that Old Shiruba? She came closer, as fast as she could.
"Master Shiruba, were are we? Last thing I remember was fighting the Dead-Hand army besides a foreign knight..."
With a groan the middle aged knight pulls his war hammer from where it is lodged in the muddy lake bottom.
Seeming to no one, "Mystery, we are getting to old for this . . ."
Looking down at the new dents and gashes in his already well worn armor, Radin shivers and thinks.
". . . what ever this is. It looks like The Balance has more in store for us my old friend, you might just get to pee again yet."
With that a loud gushing sound breaks silence behind Radin similar to someone pouring a large pitcher into a mostly filled tub.
"Ack, not till I'm out of this water. You can urinate on your own legs all you want but that takes weeks get out of my armor."
With that the drenched and muddy form of Radin struggles walking to the shore in his ill treated armor. Behind him the large form of a Metara easily and almost daintily makes her way to the shore behind him.
Hearing the mutterings and musings of those who went thru hell alongside him, Mihai shakes himself free of the fugue clouding his mind.
"By the Blood, what happened to us? Last I remember I was fighting the Dead-Hands men and getting a sword blade shoved thru my stomach."
Mihai gropes the hole in his clothes, while continuing to stagger towards the manor. Shaking his head Mihai beings to mutter curses and blasphemies on Dead-Hands head.
"Whatever happened I will pay Dead-Hand back a thousand fold for what he did to my people, and the people of Mistcrest. I will NOT fail again."
The snow is coming down faster now. The north wind catches it and turns it into a hardened edge against any inch of exposed flesh. Breath is grabbed fitfully between spasms as the body shakes under the onslaught.
The house behind the snow seems like an eerie mirage, as it fades to little more than silhouette amidst winter's wrath. However, as your eyes struggle to keep the house in sight and therefore a glimmer of hope, another shape is moving in the snow.
It's large. Although little more than a black mound that shambled stubbornly forward through the drifts, it appears to be covered in thick fur. It takes you less than a moment to realize that none of you are in any shape to fight.
It was a rather unpleasant awakening for Lambri, as the greyish blonde Pala Luthander Wolf-Blooded came back to consciousness in the sharp, cold waters near the riverbank.
The last she could dimly recall, she was nearly in the throes of the Red Mist; her fangs tearing deep into the flesh of Dead-Hand's men while her heavy blade rended their all too human bodies beneath their clothing and lighter armor apart.
Instinctively transforming into her fully quadruped Wolf form while holding her breath, Lambri starts making her way towards shore. Any armor, equipment, or clothing that she had on her person melded neatly into her Lupine form, so there was no real danger of being drug any further beneath the waters due to the weight of her possessions; her Wolf form did little to shield her from the stinging cold temperature however.
Lambri's silent but soaking wet wolf form pads up from the waters and on to solid snow covered ground; a brief shaking of the wolf's fur removes some of the waters of the river but still does little to stop the permeating chill in the air.
As she makes her way onto land, there are already others gathered about- she vaguely recognizes some of those as being among those that were attacked by Dead-Hand's men, namely the young girl and an honest to goodness Champion of the Balance with his Metara mount nearby; two others, an old man and a Calivani Caravan Leader are already further up the river bank on higher ground.
.
However, as your eyes struggle to keep the house in sight and therefore a glimmer of hope, another shape is moving in the snow. It's large. Although little more than a black mound that shambled stubbornly forward through the drifts, it appears to be covered in thick fur. It takes you less than a moment to realize that none of you are in any shape to fight.
Assuming that approaching the form is something that Lambri doesn't recognize by either scent or sight, she will stop with her Tonah "reading" and move up towards the others to help confront them the darkened shape. The others will see a grey wolf coming to their side from the river's side but is not hostile to any of them or the Metara. If not immediately stopped, Lambri will trudge protectively forward in front of the group.
Mihai stares vainly into the teeth of the storm, trying to determine what comes towards us, and find out whether it is friend or foe.
If Mihai gets a good look at it he will attempt to determine what it is.
"Please we mean no harm, may we take shelter from this storm in the house?"
What is that thing? Mila painted forward, her armor weighting more and more at every step, the chill from the metal stealing every bit of heat still on her body.
"A giant forrr surrre... get rrready girrrl." The dark goblin whispered in her ear. "Not every giant is an enemy... in de north, many of us are quite big... it might not be an enemy... also you are not in shape to fight, girl." Maul also whispered.
Unsure to which advice to follow, Mila kept her sword raised, as high as her fatigued body allowed, but in a defensive stance.
"We do not want any harm... just a little warm, away from this cold..."
As the creature approaches it becomes obvious that the fur comes from animal pelts. Animal pelts worn by a Luthander man, a tall Luthander man to be sure but not a giant. His extra height comes from the head of a bear-like creature that rests upon his brow. Although his features are partially obscured by a large red beard that is matted with snow; it appears as if half his face was, for lack of a better word, shatterd and then hastily reassembled.
"Well, you lot look about as good as cursed Temenbrae, famous for drowning upon his own s*%$e."
He takes a long moment to go over each of you in turn- seeming to enjoy the power of his current position. His gaze lingers longest upon the wolf, and although you can't be sure beneath the thick pelts he is wearing, you think his hand tightens around a hidden weapon.
"I guess you will be wanting to come inside. There is fire in there and at this hour there might even be some breakfast to be had. My name is Aurum."
Without bothering to wait for proper introductions: he begins to trudge off back towards the mysterious manor. Glancing back for a moment, he notices Shiruba's bare feet and grimaces in a way as to suggest pity and contempt.
"I suppose I can carry you, old one. It doesn't look like you have many winters left in you, and I haven't had one of you drifters die on me yet. That's the kind of reputation I have a mind to keep."
Looking down at Mila and noticing her fatigue, "If you would permit me to help you up young lady, Mystery gets lonely without someone in her saddle but much prefers the company of fellow ladies over mud covered lazy old men." Looking at Shriba with a smile in his eyes, "Either of us."
With a snort the metara walks up with her saddle even with Mila and expectantly looks back at her.
Radin pauses seemingly waiting for Mila's response partially closing his eyes and reaching his senses out to the self named Aurum through the balance.
Mila nods before climbing up the metara.
"T-Thank you, noble sir..." she then passes out.
Mihai trudges along behind the mountain man looking forward to be warm and dry. He keeps an eye on him tho, Mihai is no stranger to concealed weapons.
Keeping his senses trained on Aurum, Radin lightly secures Mila to Mystery's saddle then begins walking in front scuffing his feet in such a away to clear away the snow from the bare earth in even steps so a careful barefooted person could avoid stepping in the snow.
"That is a well trained metara you have there. Most won't let a member of the tamed people astride there back." Aurum says as he touches his forehead and brings his hand down his face, a gesture of respect for someone who has earned the trust of such a magnificent animal.
He continues the rest of the walk in silence. Leading the group through an iron gate and past an old wooden sign. You can just make out the words "Winter's Mourning" beneath a caricature of a tragic looking frost-Sprite.
You can make out light coming from around the great door, and just that enough to breath new life into your aching limbs. Also, although you could be mistaken, that sounds like music. A Calivan trail song for when the night seems too deep and threatens to drown the spirit.
"You are expected, so don't feel rude barging in. Your animals will have to stay outside. They are under my protection now." Aurum finishes by gesturing towards the door. As he casts his arm wide, his coat will open revealing many charms sewn into the inside of the animal skin. On his hip is a a crude but lethal handaxe with strange markings about the head and handle.
Mihai begins to sing softly along with the music while looking around with interest.
Radin frowns slightly Aurum then covers it with a smile.
"Ha, more like Mystery has trained me at this point. Though truth be told she is truly unique even among the metara."
As he begins gently untying the bindings keeping Mila in the saddle in such a way as to not wake her, Radin unfocused his attention to take in the surroundings.
As he slowly lifts Mila down to carry her inside, a challenge considering her sword Radin says, "Master Caravaner, would you be so kind as to grab the sodden mess that is my pack from behind the saddle and bring it inside to dry."
In Luthander Radin whispers quietly to Mystery,
Craddling Mila, Radin heads for the door.
Mihai will obligingly get Radin's pack from Mystery's saddle and stagger with it into the house.
Those entering the building will come face to face with a massive mastiff. The thing stands about four feet in height and is about as wide as he is tall. Covered in long gray fur; long scars decorate his throat like some something had tried its best to rip its throat out. Upon noticing you, he immediately adopts a defensive posture. A deep, primeval growl will issue forth that causes the hair to immediately go up on end.
"Easy Badwick, they mean us no harm. They are simply travelers coming in from the cold."
It's a man's voice, and it becomes clear that it belongs to a grizzled Alvaren man that is sitting by a great fire. His long black hair is receding in the front and he wears a plane leather half-mask that covers most of the left side of his face. The man is undsteady on his feet and as he rises he upsets a walking stick, causing him to break out into a fit of cursing.
As you look at the room behind the dog, you notice that, while probably once exquisite, the house is showing its age and parts have been patched back together. The chairs around the fireplace are threadbare. Many of the paintings on the wall are fading or worse, slashed and left to continue a maimed vigil. The only thing that seems to shine in the whole place is a coat of arms bearing the heraldry of two great hounds tearing into each other's necks. This piece had obviously been polished recently, and shines like a high silver moon.
Glancing at the coat of arms,
Radin looks for a likely soft place to lay Mila and spots a padded bench along the wall by the hearth. Setting her down gently before before stepping away to address the Alvaren.
"Good Hearthkeeper, my companions are indeed cold and over wrought. We are in needed of warmth, shelter, sustenance and information, in that order. On the behalf of the six of us I request guest right as far as you are able. In return I pledge my arm and hammer in defence of your hearth for the duration of guest right."
Radin bows at the waist with his right hand over his heart, holding the position until the man responds.
Mihai attempts to gently put down Radin's pack (thunk) and slides down a wall near the fire.
"Interesting trinkets. I will attempt some intelligent conversation once I stop freezing to death"
Mihai will cast prestidigitation on himself to remove the water soaking him in an attempt to warm up faster.
.
.
During Aurum's introduction and subsequent invitation, Lambri quietly remained in her Wolf form, content to watch the proceedings for now. The Wolf-Blooded definitely notices Aurum's nervous reaction to her presence but she doesn't take any offense to that; the So-Called First Wolf King did much to stain the reputation of all those who could take on the form of the wolves. Lambri resolves to explain herself to Aurum once the others are safely inside the manor.
.
When all the others are within the manor and it is just her, Mystery, and Aurum that are staying outside in the snow, Lambri will trot out a bit, while facing away from Aurum (about a good seven or eight feet distance).
She will then proceed to turn back into her human form in a kneeling position, still facing away from Aurum with her back presented to the fur-covered Luthander man. Lambri feels a bit worn out from the effort but makes no show of her fatigue or the coldness accompanying her still soaked furlined clothing; looking down over at her singly held Falchion with a distinctive saw blade upon it's back, the Wolf Shifter notes that the weapon is curiously free of blood and gore- washed cleaned away by the waters of the river, perhaps?
Lambri sheathes her weapon, then turns around to face Aurum with open, unarmed hands giving a respectful gesture. "In the name and light of the Majestic Pala Twins of Copper and Silver, long may they watch within the twilight, I offer my greetings and humble thanks for your hospitality. You need not fear any harm from my hands, as I shall neither fear any harm from yours in return.", the greyish-blondish-haired Luthander woman openly addresses the fur covered figure of the Luthander man in a clear, firm tone of voice that betrays no discomfort nor discomfit.
Glancing around the snow-covered horizon, Lambri will ask Aurum at some point, "Where are we at now? When my companions and I were last at, it was at an Alvanen town, called Mistcrest."
As you make your way into the room, you notice another individual present. An ancient Calivan woman, easily the oldest person you have ever set eyes upon. Her hair, what there is of it, is white and her skin is a mass of wrinkles. Peering up cautiously; she will smile a toothless grin at those entering the room.
"Ease yourself, warrior, we are quite safe within these walls. Just leave malice and preconception at the door." While the man speaks he looks cautiously around, declining to meet Radin's gaze."My name is Tyrus Altus and my companion is Mother Monisha....don't be too concerned by her- age has stolen her reason."
Altus will make sure that everyone has a place by the fire and ushers people forward with an impatient air. "There is dry clothes to be had, and there will be food shortly."
As he does this, his eyes will be drawn to a clock hanging in a corner. A couple of minutes of watching will reveal that the clock appears to be nonfunctional, and yet the man eye will periodically flit to it. Although the man has no weapon and shows no concern for yours, he seems to convey the commanding presence of a soldier. The woman is content to beam everyone with a childlike happiness about her that does more to lift the spirits than even the warmth of the fire.
You can hear the sounds of movement from the next room over.
Aurum will nearly fall over in light of the transformation. Before he can stop himself: his tomahawk will virtually leap into his hand. It is a long, tense moment before he brings the axe back down to his side.
"Well, I will be damned to the pig-lords infernal mudhole, if it isn't one of you copper-ones and a lass at that. You don't have to go on about the twins, it has been some time since I danced in there graces. Still, you have nothing to fear from me...if you don't start drooling in the light of the silver." Aurum will laugh, trying to ease away his original fear.
"You are some distance from Mistcrest now, lass. It must be almost a week of long nights before you could make it to Dead-hand's lands and I can't fathom why you would want to go back there. Word on the meanders is that he has gone crazy, attacking like some rapid dog." Aurum will pause at this, his lips curling up above his teeth in a wide sneer. "It's almost like the red mist has been at him, eating what little sense he ever had. Wouldn't be too surprised if he started spending his nights naked and barking at the moon."
Mihai raises his eyebrows at the revelations this large man lays out so easily.
"Well if we are a weeks long travel from Mistcrest then there are some strange happenings indeed. I shall have to examine the paths to determine if this was where we are mean to go."
Mihai's bonks back agaist the stone wall.
"Well at least we have not moved to the beyond, hard as Dead-Hand and his men may have tried. As long as we yet live there is room for improvement in our circumstances."
While he sits Mihai will be drying the clothes of the closest person to him (10ft) using his prestidigitation. Probably Radin or Mila. If we need to act fast then the more we recover the better.
"Master Tyrus you have my deepest thanks. My name is Radin Elder, last of the Silent Moors. My metara companion is named Mystery and she will eat you out of house and home if I don't watch her."
Looking back to the door, "Speaking of which, if you will excuse me I need to see to her next, she has trouble with buckles."
Turning leave Radin bends down to lightly shake Mila's shoulder while briefly touching her hand.
+ remove fatigue
"It is time to wake young warrior. You are in unfamiliar territory and in need of your wits to guide you."
Seeing her eyes flutter Radin releases Mila's hand and stands to go.
Aurum will shrug at Mihai. "Winter's Mourning is a place to stretch your legs and ease your burden, but apart from that; your fate is your own." With that the large man will walk back outside.
Monisha eyes glittering will focus up on Shiruba. She smells of a strange form of spiced smoke that is both foreign and intoxicating. She takes Shiruba's hand and immediately you begin to feel the tired ache that has acrued over the years begin to leave your bones. "Watchman, Watchman, why are you upon the shore? Watchman, Watchman, why are your arms so sore? You don't need the salt in your watcher's wounds. You don't need the air in your broken throat. Your legs are snapped and your side is bleeding. Watchman, Watchman, why are you upon the shore?"
"THAT IS ENOUGH!" Tyrus will sit bolt upright staring down the elder Calivan. Mother Monisha will release Shiruba's hand and with an adolescent look of hurt confusion will retreat back into herself. Just as Tyrus is about to say more: a bell will ring.
"That will be breakfast now. I'm sure you are all very hungry and some warm food should dispel the rest of the cold from you." He motions you all to follow him as he leads you into the adjacent room. As you enter, the servants will have just finished laying out a feast of hot cakes and some form of cooked bird.
The keen eyed among you will fallow Tyrus's glance as you leave the main room and notice that the clock's minute hand has clicked forward.
Radin nods to Tyrus, "I will gladly rejoin you in a moment, please proceed without me."
Radin heads back outside to help Mystery out of her saddle and barding and beings a quick grooming watching for signs of other creatures in the snow. To Mystery, "Keep your eyes open out here and let me know if something is up. I am going to try and get the lay of the land and some dinner from the gentleman inside."
When Radin places his hands upon mystery he notices that she is shaking. She is used to colder climbs and usually bears its touch with stoic indifference. As Radin looks up, he sees her eyes are wide and panicked.
As Radin finishes speaking, she will gently bite the side of his armor and begin tugging indicating a desire to leave. Now he feels it, out here he can still feel the comforting background presence of the Tonah but inside Winter's Mourning....there is nothing.
Awake and surprisingly without the expected pain along her body, Mila stood up, just to once more feel cold fingers reaching for her.
My armor... it is still completely soaked and keeping me from getting any warmth...
She then started to remove it. First she removed the sword sheath strapped to her back... after all this was the only place to hold her weapon, avoiding it to bump in the ground. She then removed all pieces of her full-plate, making a pile besides the fireplace. Once she has finished it, her narrow frame could be clearly seen under her soaked vests... her girl body still underdeveloped. She approached the fire place, trying to warm herself but brought her sheathed sword with her.
She looks around, now fully noticing all around her. She watches astonished the old woman show and the harsh reprisal for the man's part. She thought to introduce herself but the bell rang.
As she saw the banquet in front of her, her stomach roared and she soon was with a hot cake in her mouth. Remembering her manners, she swallowed the most part of her mouthful and spoke. "Oh... I'm Mila, Mila Ekanheart."
"Balance preserve us girl, what is this place?" Radin whispers to Mystery now openly scanning the surroundings using both his eyes and his sense of the balance.
"I have given my word to this hearth holder and he has extended us guess right. We must be very careful but also take heart and collect our courage. We must find out what is going on, we should be dead but we are not."
Mihai watches the interaction between Tyrus, Shiruba and Mother Monisha with a grim look. He has seen the like many times throughout his life, the strong using their power on the weak and he does not like it.
"Tyrus, this seems a rather out of the way place for a man of your obvious skills, why do you languish here?"
Mihai watches Tyrus with a curious expression on his face while attempting to steer his thoughts.
"Monisha is a very talented healer. She is the one who put me back together after..." Tyrus gestures at the left half of his face. "It's mostly the feeling of warmth after nearly freezing to death. I apologize for my outburst earlier. All Monisha seems to do these days is sing old songs from her caravan days and I'm afraid I have some bad memories attached to that one in particular."
He bids everyone eat and begins greedily biting at a leg of bird. After Mihai speaks, he slows down, chewing his food deliberately and staring fit to burn a hole through flesh.
"I used to be somebody but I'm afraid that the world outside these walls is quite done with me. It chewed me up and spat me out; obviously not liking the way I tasted. Now this house is all I have left. I try to find other castaways and give them some measure of comfort. I admit it's not much, and you all seem the type to take the good fight right to hell's door. I just try to do what little I can with what little I have."
Mihai looks around the room he will pay close attention to the decorations, trying to see if anything seems unusual. He will also examin the servants, for if you come here after some great battle then how did the servants come to be here.
He will try to do this subtly, so as not to make anyone uncomfortable.
Aurum will nearly falght of the transformation. Before he can stop himself: his tomahawk will virtually leap into his hand. It is a long, tense moment before he brings the axe back down to his side.
"Well, I will be damned to the pig-lords infernal mudhole, if it isn't one of you copper-ones and a lass at that. You don't have to go on about the twins, it has been some time since I danced in there graces. Still, you have nothing to fear from me...if you don't start drooling in the light of the silver." Aurum will laugh, trying to ease away his original fear.
Lambri will give Aurum a wry smile before replying with, "On that note, I can assure you that I have no willingness nor desire to ever follow in the footsteps of the So-called... First King, long may his name be ever forgotten by even those who would seek to slay the dishonored a second time."
In her mind, Lambri could clearly recall the tomahawk axe that was gripped briefly in Aurum's hand before he placed it back to his side; it was made of an unnatural element known to Luthanders as Skyember and it is of known provenance among the Fey- and those who would seek to consort with them.
"You are some distance from Mistcrest now, lass. It must be almost a week of long nights before you could make it to Dead-hand's lands and I can't fathom why you would want to go back there. Word on the meanders is that he has gone crazy, attacking like some rapid dog." Aurum will pause at this, his lips curling up above his teeth in a wide sneer. "It's almost like the red mist has been at him, eating what little sense he ever had. Wouldn't be too surprised if he started spending his nights naked and barking at the moon."
Pausing at the incredulous thought that somehow, in some mysterious way, all five of them turned up at a location many distances away from where they all started, Lambri slowly replies to Aurum, "That is grave news indeed, even more-so because there is one that is very important to me, perhaps to one other, way back at Mistcrest. Dead-Hand will be dealt with and it won't just be merely an Alvanen problem, given what you've said."
Glancing over at Aurum, then towards the direction of the manor, Lambri asks of the fur-clad man, "If it would be of no trouble, could you let the Lord of the manor know that he should be expecting one other to join in the hospitality for the night? While I am eager to touch base with my fellow... travelers, I fear that I may have some belated thanks- and bequests- to give to the spirits of the wild."
Aurum will grunt derisively. "He knows the head count. Just don't talk long enough to try the man's patience. You know those Alvanen, they are all about their proper etiquette."
Aurum will wave Lambri off to go about her business. As she walks off, Lambri catches him looking after her in a forlorn manner. Although his eyes are trained on her back, his mind is somewhere else entirely.
Lambri is not far from the house when she hears the drums...
Hearing the drums Radin looks up sharply.
"I know it feels off but stick close to the house and away from that lake. I am going back inside to grab some information and food. Eat everything you can while I'm gone we might be on the moverall again quickly. Call out if you need me." Radin gives Mystery's neck a quick hug and heads back to the house. Walking towards the house he notices that the wolf's has become a woman.
"Nice coat you have there." Radin says to Lambri with a sardonic smile.