"There is but one complication - the guards and barstaff have seen our faces and heard our voices, with one exception." He turns to Kalhar gravely. "Kalhar, you alone did not speak in the presence of the officers. They have seen, but not heard you." His eyes dart around the room, from chairs to closets. "Perhaps a disguise will prolong our ruse. The three of us can approach the front, Daegan and I hiding out of sight while Kalhar, his face hidden, speaks with them." He narrows his eyes as he growls - "Daegan, you and I will be at the ready, should they prove more observant than we assume."
"Holy s&+#, that's like... smart," Coyote gasps. "This is out of character for old growly."
"I got kind of confused," Dog sniffs, his head tilted thirty degrees. "Who's doing what again?"
"Axel, Sarlene, are you sufficiently confident in your ability to handle the unexpected once inside? Perhaps your small companions can be of service."
"It seems our friends did not venture far. The Fox's trail leads toward the tavern," Jezzera grunts. "I can only assume they will be in cahoots with its owner."
He turns grimly to the rest of the group and growls, "it is likely we will find them less than hospitable should we arrive at their doorstep. Perhaps there is a back door to be found?"
"Now that they are gone, we must concoct a plan of action," Jezzera growls deeply. "The fresh snow will show their prints and take us to where Nadya will be held no doubt - but what then? Surely a frontal assault on the local police force would be ill-advised."
He looks to the children, teary-eyed and desperate for their mother. "She will be returned. That is the least we owe to your pack."
Jezzera nods in agreement, his eyes piercing the soldiers'. His nostrils flare as he lowers his brow.
"My friend speaks true. Nadya has done much for us and in these harsh lands, friends as kind as her are few and far between. A pack watches over its own." He snorts roughly, his arms crossing over his chest. "You ought to know that even if you forbid us to come we will follow. Tracking in snow is no difficult task. It is your choice. Take us with you and you will have our willing cooperation. But if you force us to surreptitiously pursue our friend, you may not find our coming so agreeable."
Jezzera lays a hand on his companion's arm - "You feign well but you are no harder than the rest of us," he says, almost at a whisper. "You and I both have a lesson to learn about tact, and now is as good a time as any to take it." His hand drops as he strides ahead of his companion. "We need not waste time here. Onwards and upwards, as the saying goes. This will be behind us in time."
"Indeed," the shaman gruffly spurts, pushing his tea away as he stands. "We have little time to trifle with such dalliances. Something is afoot that is clearly beyond the ken of our present company." He leaves a silver on the bar in front of him, striding after Axel with a mixture of purpose and curiosity. "The Black Rider's words ring more truly in my ears than they did when he spoke them. I would be remiss to deny myself the chance to see this mystery to its end."
"If I may field a guess," Jezzera grunts above Sarlene's tirade, "It would seem possible, based on the severity of the response to our visit, that we are not the only foreigners to come to town recently." He fixes a steely gaze on the young woman. "Is this correct? There must be some very compelling reason you threaten newcomers with deadly weapons."
Jezzera's slowly lays a hand on the towering half-orc's shoulder. "We need no further compulsion. This is enough trouble for one afternoon. We will leave. " Lowering his voice he turns to Deegan and whispers, "perhaps our friend Nadya can shed light on this hostility. I do not wish to make enemies in this place."
His companions' subtlety sailing clear over top of his head, Jezzera stares hard at Emil. With a distinct lack of tact, he barks, "The sudden change in your attitude is troubling. What danger are you not telling us about?"
Jezzera's stomach growls at the mention of food. "It has been some time since we ate a decent meal, I think," he urged, the tone of his voice matching that of his gut. "And it would truly be foolish to deny the generosity of the house, no?"
Jezzera returns to town, wiping the snow from his red and stinging hands on his coat. Years of exposure to the cold have hardened his mind but the body's responses still come and go as they do for any mortal. Looking around he spots Axel and Kalhar trudging through the wintry lanes of Woldsby.
"Hail friends," he calls, jogging to meet them. "How goes the shopping expedition?" He is unusually cheerful, having spent the better part of the last hour indulging his wilder side in the familiar activity of foraging in snow.
Cold wind whipped at Jezzera as he trudged through the snowy banks just outside the main settlement at Waldsby. Tiny wisps of snow danced in the wind, swirling and dipping with each gust. A snowflake caught Dog in the nostril and he shook his head in a vigorous sneeze.
"Alright pal, I've been quiet long enough," Coyote gruffly chuffed at the newcomer. "And so have you. Speak up, what's your name? I know you can see us so I'm guessing you can hear us too."
The black hound said nothing. Red eyes pierced the velvet curtain of his slick fur, burning hard in their black sockets. Were it not for the cloud of steam that came and went before his snout, there scarecely would have been any indication that he was more than a statue, cold and motionless in the snow.
"Wise guy, huh? Nobody gives me the cold shoulder! I'll have you know-"
"Coyote," the canine growled, low and short. The sound sent ripples through the frostbitten air. "Trickster spirit of the southern kingdoms. Dog. Protector of the weak and champion of loyalty." Dog's ears perked and his tail wagged twice, involuntarily. "Fox, cunning patron of the wild lands. And Wolf."
Wolf's eyes narrowed. "What have you come here for? Why do you follow the pup?"
"You are not the only ones with vested interest in his journey," the solemn creature glowered; His voice deep as the Inner Sea and twice as mysterious. "I am Jackal," he said, breaking the pregnant silence. "I will watch him as you watch him."
The four spirits looked to each other, and at Jezzera, bent and digging in the snow for catalysts to fuel his medicine. "You will not interfere with his journey?" Wolf growled.
The Jackal said nothing for a long while. "I will wait," he finally answered. "You will see."
"Sheesh, will you listen to this clown? Could you be more full of yourself, Jack? Tone it down a notch, guy, before we get a call from Batman's lawyers."
"Oh boy a call!" Dog panted excitedly. "I love talking to people. Can I talk to him? Is he friendly?" Coyote sighed and stormed off in a huff, his tail sweeping the snow behind him.
"This bodes ill, brother," Fox whispered to Wolf. "I don' trust this fellow. Could be any manner of evil spirit. We'd best keep an eye on him until we know his plans."
"I am intrigued," said Wolf. "We will do so. But you must tell Coyote we are not to interfere with him. We do not yet know if he is truly one of us, or indeed, whose side he is on."
Jezzera coughs into his hand and adjusts his collar to fit snugly. "If it is all the same to you, friends, I would prefer to scavenge outside of town. I will not be far but I require natural materials for my medicine. Perhaps I can investigate the surroundings as well"
"I share your unrest," Jezzera mutters. He pulls several clumps of red dust from his bag and tosses them in the air around himself and his companions under the tarp. "We must all remain sharp-eyed if we are to keep from being ambushed. This medicine is not strong but it will help nonetheless."
Everyone gets a guidance to use on a perception check, reflexive or otherwise for the next two minutes.
"In my clan a murder of crows is considered a unique omen," he growls deeply. "Their appearance can mean great disaster or great fortune." He hikes his coat up around his neck, eyes fixed on the horizon. "Let us hope that we may turn the tide against any inauspicious development."
The statement rings with a level of portent not usually achieved by the shy witch-doctor.
In an almost uncharacteristic display of critical thinking skills, Jezzera begins to immediately search his belongings. "Are everyone's possessions accounted for?" he grunts as he sifts through his coat and his medicine bag. "Traveling minstrels are not known for their scruples."
Jezzera sits stock-still as he sizes up the new face. Something about her is off-putting to him. Tactless as he has demonstrated himself to be, he still remains silent as he watches her every move.
Sense Motive1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6
He completely fails to notice anything of value, however, and chalks it up to distraction. Not wanting to embarass himself in front of company (Nadya especially), he says nothing. A bit of stew begins to run from the corner of his mouth, but he doesn't notice.
"We came through in search of those very same White Witches you warned us of earlier," the Shaman pointed out, flatly. "If there is any information you have that could help us we would accept it graciously as repayment for assisting you with your... insect problem." He affected a smile as best he could, attempting to look disarming. His long, dour face, however, was more than a bit off-putting. In truth, Jezzera was quite taken with Nadya, and was more preoccupied than usual with trying as best he could to seem pleasant in the presence of more civilized folk. This, of course, read more ill-at-ease than anything.
"Has he always been this creepy? Am I just now noticing this?" Coyote snickered to his brothers.
"I think he's nice..." Dog quietly mused, his ears drooping.
"The poor fellow doesn't seem too comfortable interacting with the fairer sex," Fox quipped. "'Twould be charming were it less... childish."
"Maybe that's her thing. Atavistic manchildren. It's gotta be someone's thing."
The presence of a fifth canine staring the rest down with deep-set eyes was lost on the other spirits, save for Wolf, but he rarely pointed these things out to his brothers anyway.
"If I may be so bold," Jezzera offered, speaking for the first time since their new comrades found them. "There is probably a very good reason for that." He slurps a bit of slurry from the wooden bowl. "We too are from lands far afield. A portal in a vortex brought us here. I would wager a similar case applied to the monster that chased you."
"Sheesh. Doesn't anyone in this sorry frozen wasteland speak common?" Coyote grimaced as Jezzera stood silently, regarding his companions' interactions with the new folk.
"If we must," Jezzera speaks in a dour tone. "I hate to dispatch a creature seeming so confused, but the good of the many, as they say." He reaches into his pouch and begins to sift red dust between his fingers, taking a small clump in each hand.
If a big fight breaks out Jezzera's going to spend his time giving Guidances to the attackers while slinging stones as best he can.
"Curious," Jezzera ventures. "Those men seem to be fleeing from the large insect. I gather, however, that they need not run with such haste. He seems impeded by the snow."
He stands and observes for a moment, arms crossed. "Do you suppose we should help them? He seems to be a bit out of sorts. Maybe he is the one we ought to help..."
As Jezzera stands bewildered at the dead man before his feet, a rush overtakes him. His ears twitch and his nose tingles. His pupils dilate as blood rushes to his head, and for the briefest moment, he is perfectly aware of his surroundings. The heartbeat of his comrades, the soft sound of small creatures foraging in the snowy distance. He catches the scent of a dead rabbit some 5 miles behind them.
As suddenly as it came, it is gone. But the feeling remains of a broadened perspective. A greater sphere. By overloading the senses they have become sharper.
Jezzera gains +2 to WIS
Shaking his head, he strides through the portal.
"Hey, was that you?" Dog barks in a panic. "Did you do that Coyote? I didn't do it. I didn't think we were supposed to interfere with this kinda stuff."
"Not me," the sly, wiry trickster responds. "He is magic. Maybe he can just... do that."
"Any astute canine can see it was the Rider's dying gift," Fox piped up, his nose jutting upwards. "I'm sure our young friend is not so resourceful just yet."
"We should follow into the portal," Wolf interrupted. "Knowing them it will be closed soon."
The four spirits trudged silently and invisibly into the vortex and disappear into its whirling frost, leaving the Rider's body alone in the wasteland, waiting for his Master's will to be carried out.
"Kalhar, I believe I understand your hesitation," he murmured grimly. "None of us asked for this when we took our first steps into the snowy forest. It is beyond the comprehension of most men, what has been tasked of us."
He scooped a bit of dust from his medicine bag and held it in his hand.
"But is that not all the more reason we few ought to heed the words of this rider? I speak not out of excitement or wanderlust - the desire for adventure is gone from my mind and only duty remains."
He tightened his fist around the dust, allowing a bit to scatter in the harsh winds.
"Where there is good to be done for Golarion and billions of lives at stake, are not the capable few obligated to do so? How craven it would be for us to abandon this man and abdicate that which he has beseeched us in his final moments."
Brother Wolf and his canine family looked on in silence, marking Jezzera's words.
"My clan has a saying - 'With great power comes great responsibility.' We seek not to be heroes, only to do what is necessary. For our lives, and the lives of everyone we know.
"This just got way more interesting," Coyote said after a moment of stunned silence, licking his teeth.
Jezzera stood in bewilderment, not knowing whether to trust this mysterious and mystical stranger. His hand at the ready by his sling, he kept a defensive posture as the old man spoke.
"These next few moments will decide the fate of our young cub and his pack. Watch carefully," Wolf murmured to his brothers.
Jezzera stands panting in the snow, as his features return to normal. His limbs shrink and the canine fangs that lined his mouth return to their ordinary state. "Unsettling," he mutters as he transforms. "This was more unpleasant than I originally thought it would be."
Jezzera thrusts a supporting foot back as the Mephit's wild claws swipe at the air between he and Kalhar. He sprinkles a bit of red dust on his sling and carefully tucks a hard stone bullet into it. Flicking his wrist, he sets it into a whirling spin and hurls his arm up over his head, releasing the stone at tremendous speed. "Damned spirit!" Jezzera Barks
Guidance on self to attack ==>1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15 [ooc]On hit ==> 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5
Digging his foot deep into the snowy ground, Jezzera winches his arm backwards and lets fly a bullet from his sling in the direction of the Mephit, grunting with effort as his arm sails in a wide arc over his head.
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8==> If Hit ==>1d4 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5
With his newfound speed, Jezzera tromps through the snow with alarming agility. At Daegan's side, finally, he cracks open a hard-shelled chestnut, allowing the dust to scatter in the wind. A calm overtakes the battle, and around Deadeye's wounds, a bright light begins to shine, warm and soft to the touch.
Growling intensely, Jezzera scoops from his pouch a knobby twig, holding it up at eye level between the Mephit and himself, perpendicular to the ground. "By the spirits of these lands, you hold no power over me,"he rumbles, snapping it in two. A green powder spills from the halves, and it swirls in the wind around his body.
Jezzera sniffs the air and whips his head around, searching for the source of the sound. He smears his face with red dust and squints into the white-out conditions in hopes to spot his new target.
Guidance on self, followed by a perception check.1d20 + 12 ⇒ (20) + 12 = 32
A sound in the distance catches Jezzera's attention. He looks up, growling. "Friends," he says in garbled grunts, "Something is coming from above! Keep your wits about you!" As he speaks he sets a stone in his sling and wings a bullet in Knotten's direction.
With long, swift strides, Jezzera paced hastily to Kalhar's side and throws a clump of his signature dust on the alchemist's gear, a gruff whisper emanating from his mouth, now filled with sharp canine teeth. It is difficult to understand him, but it resembles something like "May your steel strike true."
"This is what we've been waiting for," Jezzera spoke, taking a hard chestnut from his medicine bag and crushing it between his palms. "If ever there was a time for your strength to be with us, brother Wolf, it is now!" Casting Bless on self+allies within 50'.
A change began to come over him as the dust of his blessing settled. His limbs lengthened subtly, wiry hair sprouting from the surface of his skin. His eyes took on a yellow hue, and his breath came in the form of a low growl. Aspect of the Wolf to gain 20' bonus to move speed
Jezzera smiles at Axel's resolve. "Your words are fierce, friend," he grins. "Courage is the better part of victory. We must only make sure our slings and spears are are strong as our conviction."
He looks down at his pouch, stuffed with odds and ends from the forest packaged into neat wads and wrapped in leaves. "The road will be shorter for our good humour."
After searching through his pouch for a moment, Jezzera finally produces a tiny sphere, glinting in the light. "This will hopefully do for now," he murmurs. Crouching above the Witch, he crushes it between his hands.
"Spirits of the tundra, may you ever be merciful and kind"
Growling in frustration, Jezzera claps his hands together, scattering red dust from his medicine bag into the air around him. "This has gone on too long already! We must strike it down, now!"
Aiming carefully, he slips another stone into his sling. It spins and spins as he raises it over his head and brings his arm down with a whoosh, sending the bullet careening through the air, aiming for the dead center of the tiny Poppet's wooden chassis.
"The tiny thing will not relent," Jezzera barked as he flicked his wrist, the sling whirling around his clenched fist. "I say we destroy it entirely once it has stopped moving... which will hopefully be shortly!"
He lunged forward and flung his arm in a wide arc over his head, releasing the hardened bullet towards the doll
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13
If it hits: ==> 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4
The stone again perforated the doll's body with a clunk and Jezzera stepped back to load his sling once more.
If it misses:
The stone flew through the air, and a decisive clunk was heard as it embedded itself not in the doll, but in the wooden flesh of the trees behind. Jezzera cursed his luck and began to dust his hands with red powder from his pouch. Guidance on self
"This feels foolish but I see no other option!" Jezzera barked, snapping his sling into a whirl. His eyes locked on the tiny doll hovering in the air. With one arm out for balance he kicked his foot back and flung his sling-arm forward, whipping his elbow straight over his shoulder - aiming directly for the floating thing's soft body. "Guide my stone, brother Fox..." Jezzera silently prayed as the bullet careened through the air.
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14
Option 1: if it hits -1d4 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6
The bullet buried itself in the doll's cotton flesh, leaving a hole the size of a copper piece. Jezzera smirked and began the process of loading another bullet into his trusty sling.
Option 2: if no hitty
But the snow and the cold stinging his eyes betrayed him - his bullet ricocheted off of a tree far behind the doll, and he glared at it with dispapointment as he sprinkled red dust from his pouch on his sling hand Guidance on self
Jezzera barely had time to react to the commotion - suddenly, his hand was in his pouch and he felt himself speaking a familiar incantation as he scattered teeth and nails of wild dogs around his friends - "Brother Coyote's blessing in this battle!"
Bless on everyone within 50ft
A green haze escapes the keratin and bone, shrouding Jezzera and his teammates. "What sort of trick is this? I have heard of medicine that can compel lifeless objects to animation but never seen it before!" He barked as he withdrew his sling, preparing a bullet to launch at the floating poppet.
For a moment, Jezzera was taken aback by Axel's furry companion. He seemed stupefied by the presence of the small fox, but quickly shook it off and returned to the work of starting a campfire. 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (12) + 9 = 21
He struck the flint several times and eventually managed to encourage a small ember within the tinder. "It is as my tribe's old saying goes: 'where there is a will, there is a way!'"
"REALLY! The nerve! To mistake that... base creature for a noble-born Vulpes vulpes such as myself..." Fox glowered from afar. "It's enough to make a canine foam at the muzzle, if you'll pardon my frankness."
"Don't get your panties too much in a wad, Foxy," Coyote snickered, "You'll miss out on the show." He watched Jezzera from the banks as he tended the tiny fire. "How long do you suppose it'll take this rube to get a good flame going? Sheesh."
