As soon as one of the shambling dead pops his head out of the carriage, Honsul lets out a terrified scream and wildly launches a nearby branch at the (red) zombie.
Gritil, seeing some of her companions leap into battle, bravely charges in herself not quite sure what she is getting herself into.
"Who better to fight undead than me... the also-dead," Gritil thinks as she moves into position between the snow bear and the clearly enraged blonde warrior.
Just as Honsul's branch flies overhead missing the zombie, Gritil launches an Opening Strike at the (red) zombie hoping to open him up for another attack by Garran's sharp sword.
Horn's vicious bite tears chunks of flesh from the undead corpse, but the rock from Linge's sling merely bounces off the creature.
Sigrun's axe misses the zombie, but breaks a hole in the side of the carriage.
Halleva tears at the zombie as well, scratching long marks into the creature's chest.
The zombies moan in pain as the holy light of Iomedae engulfs them.
Honsul and Gritil's attacks fly well over the heads of the creatures and slam into the carriage.
Red: 4/19
Green: 4/19
Blue: 15/19
Yellow: 13/19
The two southern zombies, finding themselves blocked by their fellow undead at the door of the carriage, slam into the wood and break through.
The two northern zombies slam heavy fists toward Horn and Halleva. Horn, well trained for battle, dodges the blow easily, but Halleva, in her rage, takes the full force of the attack.
Sigrun prepares to swing again, but she isn't expecting the creatures to break through the wood carriage, having to adjust her blow at the last second.
Emboldened by his success, Horn rips at the zombie with renewed violence.
In this situation, Linge's small sling is pretty much useless, and she has no spell that could be of use. ""дерьмо," she swears under her breath, putting away her weapon and drawing her blade, waiting for an opportunity to aid one of her more muscular companions.
By the wrath of Iomedae! Burn!" With the symbol of his goddess clenched in an upraised fist, Garran unleashes another flash of holy might against the foul undead.
Honsul, noticing that his branch throwing and Linge's sling aren't appearing to be effective, begins to move towards the putrid zombies to get into flanking positions. The heavy blanketed snow slows down Honsul's movement and so he's forced to stop next to Horn.
Reaching out, Honsul gently strokes the bear's white fur and whispers a couple words of good luck:
"Such a good little bear, you're doing amazing! Keep it up!"
Seeing the tall blonde women next to her take a significant blow from the zombie in front of her, Gritil rushes to her defense. Gritil uses her action to attempt to Aid Halleva by helping to guard her lower body from another attack.
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Paldo watches a somewhat horrified as the innocent seeming blonde little woman that introduced herself as Halleva pounced on one of the walking corpses and started ripping into its flesh with her bare hands. He felt himself a little sickened and the sight of it. “Don’t ever shake those hands!” he thought to himself.
Seeing the zombies clustered close to one another Paldo decided to unleash one of his favourite tricks creating a slippery surface on the ground and in the carriage the other two are trying desperately to escape.
Halleva howls in fear and pain as the corpse batters her, and retaliates by slashing at it erratically with her claws.
Too much is happening too quickly for Glim to keep track of it all; his new companions are proving to be wildly different in combat than he'd anticipated, but rather than try to make out the individuals he focuses on the zombies.
Another bomb, another whispered prayer to Gorvax, the patron saint of the right path home, and hurls it up and high once more.
Despite the surprise, Sigrun's axe finds its way right into the chest of the zombie, staggering the creature backwards as it connects.
Horn's flurry of attacks rips what's left of the zombie to pieces, and it stops moving as it collapses to the ground.
The zombies once again howl in pain as Garran's holy light engulfs them, though they seem less affected than before.
As the grease washes over the zombies, two of the lost their footing and fall to the carriage floor.
The one that remained standing from the Grease is quickly torn to pieces by Halleva's claws.
As the remaining zombies begin to stand, Glim's bomb explodes, washing them in fire. When the smoke clears, it's clear that all of the zombies are dead.
Red: 1/19
Green: -8/19
Blue: -1/19
Yellow: 0/19
Halleva's claws melt away, and the color returns to her face as she flushes in shame and attempts to hide behind her stilled hair. She sways on her feet, looking as if she might keel over from fatigue, and refuses to meet anyone's eyes.
Horn sniffs what's left of the zombies cautiously, biting limbs furiously here and there until he is certain that none of the undead are getting back up. Then, letting a severed hand fall from his jaw, he happily trots toward Linge with little, high-pitched whines that are probably the bear equivalent of: "Where are my biscuits?"
Linge, who was keeping her eyes locked on the dreary scene with a morbid fascination, finally snaps back to reality when Horn starts nudging her hand.
"Sorry, big boy," she says softly, reaching for two biscuits in her backpack. "You did well."
It was true, of course -she had spent weeks training him to fight back predators when he would return to the wild. Yet watching him tear apart humanoid-shaped creatures as if they were made of paper had something chilling, like a sweet family dog suddenly reverting back to a wolf. What if she can't control him anymore some day? Has she trained him to be over-aggressive?
Oblivious to her sudden anxiety, the bear cub licks his lips conscientiously for any remaining crumbs, shakes his head, and starts chasing and playing with a dead leaf that has been unfortunate enough to land on his nose.
Now there's my little cub.
A bit reassured, Linge's attention is drawn towards Halleva. Just like Horn, her rather spectacular transformation seems to have reached an end, and she looks like her old self again -though Linge does not feel completely at ease. There was a moment there when she was hit with the terrible thought that Halleva could turn around and throw herself on them with her claws out...
Yet she looks so shy and scared again, so vulnerable with her blood-tainted clothes, that Linge wants nothing but to help her:
"Halleva, are you alright? Let me see your wound..."
Linge instintively reaches for her bandages and healing herbs in her backpack -only to realize that she left the apothecary without them. She doesn't even have a readied healing spell.
"Oh, what an idiot- Garran, can you heal Halleva?"
"Of course." Garran's eyes are thoughtful. His companions certainly were a mixed bag, some wielding powers of questionable origin. So far all had acted with honor, and the cause was just. Garran turns his mind to the task at hand, crunching through the deep snow, and avoiding the strange slippery snow; making his way around to Halleva.
Taking the symbol of Iomedae in his hand again, Garran concentrates to change his focus from protection to healing, then recites a quick prayer. "As Iomedae's sword turns back evil, so may her mercy grant you healing." Garran gently grasps the seemingly shy girl's shoulder, and lets the healing energy flow into her body.
"Zombies are vile things that must be destroyed. You did well." Garran tells Halleva.
As her hastily adjusted swing strikes home, Sigrun gives a great shout of triumph. She remains wary as the creatures waver and fall, but returns her axe to its place on her back once she's sure they're done moving. As the others tend to their wounds, she heads towards the frozen figures to see if she can make sense of just what exactly they are.
As the last of the zombies falls, Honsul and Gritil immediately regroup by each other and embrace.
"You did such a good job!" Honsul exclaims. "You were so brave - much braver than I was!"
"Oh that was nothing! I learned how to be brave from you! And did you see how well everyone else handled themselves?" Gritil produces a large smile to the mostly distracted companions around her.
Honsul moves towards the carriage careful not to step on any zombie debris. Once he arrives at the door, the frigid stench causes him to plug his nose. Through his plugged nose, Honsul casts Detect Magic to see if he can identify any lingering magic or traps before anyone enters the carriage.
"Well done everyone! It seems we all have quite the assortment of abilities and powers as well as a few surprises, don't we?" Paldo let his gaze land on Halleva as he got to the last part of his sentence, giving her a subtle wink. "Well now that we have dispatched these vile creatures we should make haste to investigate the area then proceed to finding Lady Thurdanhelm, surely she must be in grave danger."
Thinking out loud Paldo utters "So, the carriage was barred from the outside... They are wearing old rags and their flesh is rotting away, they must not have been fresh kills. Perhaps they were used as part of the attack then left here in an attempt to thwart or delay a rescue effort."
Paldo takes a bit of time to examine the scene as he heads closer to the frozen humanoid.
"Thank you," Halleva mumbles to Garran as he heals her, trying not to let a wave of homesickness overcome her as his kind words and familar Ulfen features remind her a little too much of the men in her faraway village.
She offers no explanation for the monstrous transformation she underwent just a few moments ago, apparently not ready to discuss it with anyone, and tromps forward through the snow, keeping an eye out for tracks or anything else that may have been overlooked.
Glim stands off to the side for awhile, rubbing at his bare chin, eyeing the group with a speculative eye. When finally he trudges forward through the snow, its nod to this way and that to the others, murmuring blessings, to then crouch and examine the zombies.
"Astute, Master Paldo," says the svirfneblin. "This would indicate a necromancer amongst the enemy's number. Not a good omen. And one willing to set a trap for those who would come after. So they wished to dissuade being followed, which means they did not think they would be far gone by now. Which is heartening, yes? They must be close enough to warrant protecting their rear."
He then stands and dusts off his mittens before approaching the frozen statues. Simulacra? Actual frozen people? He peers at them carefully and circles them once before turning to the tracks that Halleva is following away toward the trees.
Finally he sighs. "I wonder if the ice fairies of which we were warned turned these guards into statues. Their frostbite power would be formidable indeed if so. Worrying. Hmm."
Glim nods to different members of the group, murmurs words of encouragement, though clearly his mind is on the problem at hand. Then, unless anything else presents itself, he follows Halleva into the forest.
"Mischief. A trap for the unwary. Yuln didn't mention a necromancer, but one could well have been watching from hiding." Garran slogs over to look at the icy statue. He tries to remember if he ever read about anything of the kind in his church studies.
Then he turns back to the wagons. "A healing kit would be a good thing to have, perhaps Lady Thurdanhelm's caravan was equipped with one."
Garran gives the zombie carriage, then the overturned carriage, a quick search to see what might be available.
As the others tend to their wounds, she heads towards the frozen figures to see if she can make sense of just what exactly they are.
What are the four lighter blue circles around the statue of the frozen person? Are there any identifiable markings on the frozen person that give any information about them?
He then stands and dusts off his mittens before approaching the frozen statues. Simulacra? Actual frozen people? He peers at them carefully and circles them once before turning to the tracks that Halleva is following away toward the trees.
There's only one "ice statue," and as you get closer, it's clear that this was a human that was frozen in place. The small circles are parts of his body that have been chipped off. The "ice statue" is wearing a breastplate that bears Taldan heraldry, and one of the ice chunks on the ground contains his arm holding a longsword.
Through his plugged nose, Honsul casts Detect Magic to see if he can identify any lingering magic or traps before anyone enters the carriage.
You do not detect any magic coming from either carriage.
Do the bodies on the ground (other than the zombies) have uniforms on or anything that would make them all part of the Lady's guard or are there any other corpses?
All of the bodies on the ground have been stripped of their weapons and armor, so don't bear any markings to identify themselves. There are a few women, but mostly men, and all of them are pierced with tiny needles and shards of ice.
She offers no explanation for the monstrous transformation she underwent just a few moments ago, apparently not ready to discuss it with anyone, and tromps forward through the snow, keeping an eye out for tracks or anything else that may have been overlooked.
Garran gives the zombie carriage, then the overturned carriage, a quick search to see what might be available.
In searching the overturned carriage, Garran finds broken chests and boxes strewn across the ground. Inside, all that remains is three courtier's outfits. Meanwhile, Halleva moves over to help with the search of the carriage with the zombies, and finds a small jewelry box under the seat. Inside, she finds a signet ring, a pair of earrings, a set of pearl-inlaid bracelets, assorted gold and silver necklaces, and one sapphire pendant.
Garran slogs over to look at the icy statue. He tries to remember if he ever read about anything of the kind in his church studies.
You don't think you've ever heard about anything like this in your religious studies.
As you all walk around the area, you see clearly that a path leads south through the forest, and it contains clear tracks from a group of humanoids and horses that followed the path southward.
Linge follows Glim to have a look at the ice statue -but it seems like it's way too late to save him. She cannot help but think of the man's family, friends or offspring. As soon as the weather calms down, he'll need to be properly buried.
"May your soul rest in peace," she whispers, laying a hand on the frozen's man chest as if to comfort him in the otherworld. "And find its place in the great harmony."
In sign of respect for the dead man, she bows her head for a moment in silence, then turns around. There is nothing more she can do, and Lady Thurdanhelm's fate is more uncertain by the minute.
"We have to be careful," she warns once the group spots tracks in the snow. "M.Oerstag mentioned bandits, and if any other members of Lady Thurdanhelm's had survived, I doubt they would have left their comrade-in-arms behind in such an awful state."
"Our enemies are dangerous indeed." Garran turns to follow the trail into the woods. A frown on his face, as he tries to bury the thought that the foe could well be too powerful for them to handle.
Paldo looked at the unfortunate soul trapped in the ice a look of horror on their face. He felt a chill run up his spine, the thought of not only suffocating to death, but doing so in a block of ice was an awful way to leave this world. Looking at Linge, Paldo nodded in agreement "Agreed, we need to be careful and we should not delay here any longer. We need to find the lady before it is too late."
Paldo waits for one of his more armored companions to make their way down the southern path before falling in line.
Sigrun looks over the frozen body but can't make much sense of it. Sullenly, she follows Garran, paying little heed to their smaller companions' strangeness and still keeping her eyes open.
After giving the group the "No magic detected in here" all clear for the carriage, Honsul and Gritil move to examine the being trapped in ice.
"I think this is a bit more serious then we thought." Gritil absentmindedly muses.
Honusl responds,"Yeah... but I think our new friends are prepared for anything!"
And the two follow behind their larger companions down the south path through the woods - moving quite a bit more cautiously then they had before.
Halleva picks up the jewelry box, entranced by the pretty things inside, and hopes she can return them to Lady Thurdenhelm when and if they rescue her. She apprehensively follows the others into the forest, afraid of what might lie ahead.
You take the trail south, and it leads you into the full expanse of the Border Wood. You're about 5 hours into your travel for the day when the trail leads through a small clearing among the taller trees before continuing uphill and out of sight. A large chest lies half-buried in the snow, apparently dropped or discarded by those who hastily passed this way.
After five hours spent walking, Linge starts to feel rather tired. She's not unused to stay outside for hours, between the need to gather herbs for the shop and Horn's regular training, but she never had to do it in such conditions. Her shoulders and back hurt under the weight of her backpack, and cold is seeping through her clothes.
Although she refuses to complain, gritting her teeth and staying focused on finding Lady Thurdanhelm as quickly as possible, stumbling upon a half-buried chest and finally coming to a halt comes as a bit of a relief.
"How strange that it was left behind," she says, looking around her suspiciously. "It must have been too dangerous to come back for it."
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"Hmm, yes, to drop a chest after carrying it for five hours... most strange. A trap, perhaps? That is what I am thinking. I suggest... caution."
The svirfneblin is completely unaccustomed to marching through snow; by this point his legs are aching, the cold has seeped through his thick cold weather clothing, and worse yet, his woolen socks are soaked through. Still, nobody said this would be easy, and life is a constant trial, so he doesn't complain.
Instead, he also takes advantage of their respite to approach the chest cautiously and examine it for clues. Do the prints around it indicate it was dropped, or carefully set down, or...?
As the party comes to a halt, Honsul feels relived to get a moments (Gritil continues to feel.. nothing). Coming across the chest, Honsul and Gritil agree with their companion that it is suspicious.
However, Gritil offers a rather unorthodox solution. “Something that Honsul and I learned while playing hide and seek as children...” Gritil pauses briefly to giggle at the memories. ”is that I can turn see-through and move-through. I am able to stick my my head into and through cupboards and closets without opening the doors! Honsul can never hide from me for long!”
Honsul continues for Gritil, ”Yeah! So if we want, I can check the box for magic and if it doesn’t seem too dangerous, Gritil can turn move-through and see-through and check in the trunk before we open it? What do you guys think?
Honsul and Gritil stand beaming in the snow in front of the group - hopeful that they’ll be able to be useful to their new friends.
Garran stops, glad to get a rest from slogging through the deep drifts. "Maybe it's a distraction for an ambush." Garran looks around at trees surrounding the clearing, trying to spot any lurkers.
"Or maybe, they were in such a rush that this chest wasn't important enough to come back for."
Sigrun has been slightly confused by Gritil the entire time, but she's not going to complain as long as the...whatever she is...is on the same side. And it seems like she's got some special tricks too. "That's a good idea - as long as it doesn't seem too dangerous. We'll keep an eye out around while you two check it out, I guess."
Paldo nodded in agreement that Gritil should look in the chest. "That's a great idea, Gritil can look inside." Secretly Paldo thought to himself that as long as it wasn't him he didn't care who looked inside. He hoped no one noticed him taking a few steps away from the chest putting a tree between it and himself. However as soon as Garran suggested it was a trap he felt vulnerable on both sides. He nervously looked about in the forest.
With their companions’ approval, Honsul and Gritil, beaming with confidence and pride, join hands. As a look of extreme focus crosses Honsul’s face, the slightly sticky substance that covers Gritil’s body begins to fall away - shedding almost like a snake skin. As the goopy residue builds up on the ground, all that remains is a faint transparent outline of Gritil’s form.
With a gentle kiss on her otherwise formless check, Honsul provides Gritil with a Guidance knack. Gritil winks at her new friends as her form gingerly floats over to the chest where she proceeds to carefully stick her face through to try to get a look inside.
The group mostly hangs back while Glim, Honsul and Gritil check out the chest on the ground. everyone is a bit nervous after the zombie attack, and are all looking into the trees for any sign of trap or ambush.
No one sees anything moving, and the snow falling has made this area unnaturally quiet. it would be peaceful if everyone wasn't on edge and expecting trouble.
Gritil turns incorporeal and sticks her head into the box. after a moment she comes back out and exclaims:
That's weird! it's empty. totally empty
"Empty? That is most strange. But a good reason to drop the box. Why carry such an object if it is serving no purpose?"
That said, Glim approaches more boldly and inspects the latch. If it is not locked, he'll pry it open with the tip of his digger, humming nervously all the while.
"Maybe they thought it would be too voluminous?" Linge suggests. "I mean... Maybe it was hindering their movements? If the horses were already dead..."
She nervously starts scratching Horn behind the ears. If it is an ambush, surely he'll sense it before she does...
"Maybe it's trapped, then. Perhaps it'd be better to just leave it, if there's nothing inside." Sigrun continues to keep her eyes alert, though she has trouble making out even the trees in the snowstorm.
“Yes I certainly agree. It’s best to leave it and move on.” Paldo chimed in. Feeling less nervous about the chest and more nervous about the woods behind him Paldo again moved closer to his companions. “Perhaps we should make haste? We cannot forget that we are pursuing Lady Thurdanhelm captors. Although we should be cautious of a trap in the area if this chest was bait.”
Glim examines the chest and finds the latch locked. Odd for an empty box.
The others suggest moving forward and leaving the box alone.
everyone is nervously eying the trees, but no motion is seen
"Well... If nothing's inside, shouldn't we head on? Each minute lost increases the risks for Lady Thurdanhelm", Linge suggests.
Paldo studies the chest from a distance. ”Although it is odd the an empty chest would be locked, I don’t see any reward for unlocking it. We should press on.”
Glim sighs. "There is wisdom in conserving our resources for more obvious dangers. And, if this box be truly abandoned, then it should still be here when we return from our sojourn. I am in agreement. Let us carry on. This cold is noxious, and I wish to expedite our journey."
If the others are agreeable, Glim shrugs his shoulders about his ears, hugs himself tightly, and resumes trudging through the snow.
Sigrun simply nods, the words taken straight out of her mouth unheard by the wind and snow. She is warm enough, for now, but she isn't used to this type of chill anymore after her years in the south. Hopefully it'll be better once they get moving again.
the group presses on. the snow becomes increasingly deep in this part of the forrest. soon the group enters an area with a wind-swept gully carving a path through a tree-covered ridge. occasionally a heavy load of snow falls with a hiss from branches into the growing mounds of snow on the ground.
Linge, possibly aided by having a white creature as a companion, spots something moving in the snow, white on white.