TDD: The Prologue (IC)

[Hinzland]

There Darkness Dwells...

The Prologue

The Free City of Brymcyr
First Library of the Rune Guild, Dorm Area

The room was orderly. The walls covered in the most accurate maps of the world charted up to the date. Books and scrolls sat in neatly organized bookshelves, titles ranging in Elvish and Common to the more obscure tongues of the Imperial Triad and the Language of Creation. The room itself was furnished simply: A small bed, and a single desk and chair. The desk itself was the only thing that was an exception to the order of the room itself. Covered in ink stains, scattered tomes, half torn manuscripts. Sitting in the chair was a small young man, human by the look, but in this day and age, you could never be too sure. He sat, staring intently into a map...

The door opens tentatively. The man sitting down made no move or even signaled to acknowledge it.

"Sir?"

Like a Thraan golem, he didn't move.

A scribe enters the room, carrying a tray of food and a tankard of water. "Sir, you must eat," she murmurs quietly. Her face is lined, revealing her age. Her clothes are nothing fine, yet clean nonetheless.

"I'm not hungry," he responds, not moving from his desk.

"Whether you are hungry or not is of no concern. Your body requires food, and drink, to remain... alive," she hesitated, then continued. "It wasn't your fault."

He shifted in the chair, almost imperceptibly. "It wasn't your fault, as much as the others and yourself believe it to be. No one knew what would happen when Faestile activated the rune, but we knew it would be bad. It was his own doing. He was warned," she said. She spoke with a tone devoid of emotion, that of someone who has accepted the facts of a tragedy, but had yet to accept there bearing on reality. "Some things shouldn't be tampered with-"

"I wasn't good enough!" he interrupted, shooting out of his chair. Although his voice remained calm, his face was streamed with tears. His fist were clenched, and his body shook uncontrollably. "I could have done better! Done more research, kept my cool when the spell began to go awry... maybe then I could have saved him..."

He collapsed to the ground, burying his head between his knees. The scribe placed the tray on the ground before going to her knees next to him. Taking on a gentler tone, she said, "Donaal, there's nothing we can do. He's gone, forever into the One's embrace." As she attempted to hug him, he jumped up with suprising speed and strength, turning over the table and knocking the scribe to the ground.

"Don't you think I know that! It isn't fair!" Donaal had lost controll of his voice now, raising into a petulant cry. "Why? Why Faestile! He was the greatest of us! He could have ended this, all of this! The demons, the eldritch, the wars! All he needed was your support, and you failed him."

The scribe began to support herself, to stand and attempt to reason with Donaal, before one of the scrolls on the ground caught her attention. "Donaal... that isn't..?"

"It's nothing."

"It's forbidden damnit! There is a reason these are locked away! It's against the natural order!" She began to scan the rest of the fallen readings. "These are all forbidden! By the One... Donaal, I have to tell the others. They need to know. We can help you."

Without awaiting a reply, the scribe turned to the door. As she began walking out of the room, a racking pain swept through her body. She would have cried out if she could, but she was paralyzed as well.

"No, you can't," whispered Donaal, who was holding out his hand, dark energy emanating from his palm. The scribe levitated, and was turned to Donaal. "I will bring him back, and together, we'll finish what we started.

There was a sickening crack, as he flicked his wrist. The scribes body fell to the floor.

The Barrens, At the Foot of the Mountains of Thraa-Lashek
Present Day

The sun has began to set. You stand on a cold, windswept plain beneath the shadows of the stone behemoths of Thraa Lashek. A snowstorm from the North has began its way down south, and you are beginning to feel it's embrace. The hungry howling of a pack of wolves draws near. So far, you've managed to avoid them, or slay a few of their scouts before they fled. Starvation remains as a strong motivation, however, and they grow hungrier by the day. As the first snowflakes begin to hit the ground, you see ahead of you the dying light of a campfire, and several other figures heading towards it.

They may prove friend or foe later, but for now surviving the night is of highest priority. Behind you, the wolves grow quiet, and an ear-splitting howl echoes around the plain. Singular. Bestial. An order?

When it finally dies down, the wolves respond as one. Agreement...

[Nagakawa]

Suzume Yoichi

The recipe for hishin-cha contains eight ingredients: goji berries, black sugar, fermented Yamaji tea leaves, khusuth, the extract of arrowhead flower, dried lime peels, the bark of the sky flame tree, and blue passionfruit pulp. These seemingly random ingredients are dried, ground into a fine powder, and then dissolved in hot water to produce a reddish-brown beverage with a slightly sweet taste. The highly-prized beverage is used to treat a wide variety of internal ailments by the doctors of Wado; a single pot of it can cost as much as a manual labourer's entire monthly salary.

Former sumo champion Suzume, who had set off from Wado to obtain the necessary ingredients to brew hishin-cha, had obtained four out of eight by the time he set foot in the Barrens. Goji berries, black sugar, and fermented Yamaji tea were all easily obtainable in the warmer southern islands of the Islands of the Rising Sun, and limes he picked up from a travelling merchant on his way up north.

He had come to the Barrens to obtain arrowhead flowers; an elusive little weed with the tiniest and most nondescript of flowers, yet also one of the strongest and most hardy of plants, able to withstand the harshest blizzards. Only in the Barrens can it be found growing in abundance, and consequently, high quality samples fetch the highest of prices.

Suzume was not bothered by the cold. All his life, he had grown up in the coldest village of the coldest islands among the Islands of the Rising Sun, and his thick clothing over his massive frame kept him comfortable enough to continue pushing on through the Barrens. What bothered him was just how lifeless the whole place felt. There were signs of life, animal and vegetal alike, but an aura of hostility hung heavy in the frigid air, as if shunning any attempts by outsiders to make inroads.

And now, it was beginning to get dark.

As physically strong as he was, Suzume was beginning to feel the strain of walking on foot across the treacherous terrain of the Barrens. Aside from the massive club he had brought with him to defend himself from bandits, Suzume also carried strapped to his back a gigantic wooden box, in which he kept his belongings and the herbs he had set out to obtain to make hishin-cha for his wife. He had brought few other belongings, aside from clothes and food (albeit a fair bit of it, to last him through the wildernesses), but the products he had obtained thus far were not light either, for he had bought a lot of them. He was beginning to feel the strain of carrying all that weight.

"Hm, a campfire."

As the night grew darker, so too did the little flickering light in the distance, which Suzume eventually picked out to be a campfire. The howling of the wolves grew louder; much as he hated to intrude on whoever it was the campfire belong to, there simply was no choice but to take his chances. Already, it seemed, there were other people making their way towards it from various different directions, so if he could just talk to them, perhaps they could reach a settlement and share the space round the fire, at least for the night.

...

[Ovstylap]

Gundrak crouched down on the firm ground, attempting to pick up some of the poor soil beneath his calloused hands. Only a few odd bits of soil moved from the earth's grip, and he stopped his scrabbling, standing. He kicked the heel of his right boot into the soil, pounding two, three, four times, then knocked some of the loosened soil to the surface with his toe. He crouched down again and picked up some of the dirt, before rubbing it against his face, exfoliating it with the small rough stones in the dirt, enjoying the refreshing feeling. A few flakes of old white and black paint came away. Still none of the crimson, that stuff stayed for a long time, and he wondered when he might be painted freshly again, when he might find another group of wondering Morgamoosh.

Shaking his head of the dirt, he looked up, peering with his keen eyes at the thick layer of cloud which had been making its way south for much of the day. Looking at one of the more prominent peaks of the Thraa Lashek mountains, he observed that the clouds were moving faster than they had earlier in the day. The layer of cloud was still perhaps a couple of miles away, but with the ever increasing wind no doubt the snow would be landing soon. Gundrak tilted his head to either side, feeling the stiffness crunch slightly as he did so, before standing again. As he stood to his full six foot and five inches, a now somewhat familiar sound reached his ears, that pack of wolves were howling again. He had already slain two of them which had ranged ahead of the pack- a somewhat rare and foreboding behavior suggesting either a very intelligent pack, or that something more afoul was at play. No doubt they were getting closer, especially given that their howls had reached him against the wind, and for the slightest moment Gundrak desired to look back, as if he'd see them now. But they wouldn't be howling if they were close enough to see him, no, they'd be stalking him.

Walking onwards, after a few hundred meters Gundrak was acutely aware that the visibility had reduced, above was only a blanket of cloud, and moments later the first snowflakes were colliding with Gundrak, instantly melting. The wind had picked up. He could feel it on his face, and it slowly blew harder against his dark green hands, cooling them. A little bit longer and he'd put his leather gloves on, but only once his hands were colder, so he could enjoy that pleasant satisfaction of the sudden return of warmth. Gundrak knew that in a lonely place like this, little comforts and feelings of pleasure were importa-
He stopped. He stood still. He blinked twice. A fire. Moreover... an abandoned fire. Gundrak stayed completely still, moving only his eyes as he surveyed his surroundings...

Nothing. No movement. No cover in these wastes. The fire was only a few hundred meters away. Where were the owners? The wolf howls came again, carried through despite the snow and wind. Gundrak carried on walking, pulling his leather gloves from the top flap of his pack without having to undo it, and put them on, temporarily pausing, with his Great-axe leaning against him. He looked around, and then he froze again. Distant figures, their features impossible to tell, other than their outlines. Who were they? A group of hunters? Adventurers? Lost merchants? Or people on the run perhaps? Were they even humans? Some of them looked that way. But the sun was setting and the cold was increasing. One approached from the west, and appeared somewhat physically significant.

He continued, with longer strides and with purpose, towards the fire. Perhaps he'd reach the fire first, and that way be able to ascertain the intentions of those approaching the fire. If he stood between them and the fire, which was probably their own, as long as he didn't come across as too hostile, they might be more willing to be conciliatory and allow him to join them. Chances are those wolves would come tonight, and they'd all be better off together. Tightening his grip on his axe, Gundrak grinned. Oh yes, they'd be glad to have him there to help against the pack.

Seeing that at least one of the figures was somewhat closer to the fire than he- the bigger one coming from the West, Gundrak smiled, and hoped that he wouldn't seem too aggressive if he ran to the fire to make it there first. He picked up his pace, and after a few steps, moved into a jog. It was only perhaps three hundred meters, but still it was exerting running that distance with his pack, and axe. If the figures were hostile, he should be close enough to take at least a couple of them on individually, considering that they were somewhat spaced apart, and coming from various angles. That in itself was a bit strange. Slowing down as he reached the fire, he noticed there was a pile of firewood nearby, and immediately picked up a couple of the larger pieces and threw them onto the fire, grinning as the sparks jumped up to thank him.

He could feel the warmth of the fire, and desperately wanted to rest for a few moments, before he tilted his head to either side again, and dropped his pack close to the fire. He looked towards the first figure, who was by now just shy of a hundred meters away, and planted the foot of his axe in the ground, and leant upon it. No doubt he looked physically imposing, the tattoos and the broken-up black, white, and crimson paint decorating his face. But he smiled. Hopefully Orc smiles don't scare everyone, he thought to himself.

Then he noticed something. He couldn't hear the wolves now. Were they that close already? Almost immediately with those thoughts crossing his mind, Gundrak heard that ear-splitting howl. It was deep, it was loud, it... wasn't like a normal wolf howl. There was something else to it. Something about it seemed authoritative, something wasn't quite right about it, there was something unnatural. Or perhaps, it was something else, there was a greater wildness in this howl than in any other. Then, the pack responded as the sound died down- though Gundrak imagined it echoing off of the mountains nearby. Their howl rose in unison. They answered. He wondered what it meant, but knew inside, it was as if they were responding to an order.

He turned his head in the direction of the closest traveler, who even now was slowly turning their head towards Gundrak, and was now close enough for them both to make out elements of one another's features and postures. By any account this was a fairly framed human, comparable to some of the Orcs Gundrak had met before. It was a man, and he seemed a little tired perhaps, and didn't appear aggressive. Gundrak leant the head of his axe to one side, and placed his free arm out on the other side, hopefully a welcoming gesture, rather than a challenge, and watched for the reaction...

[Blargleyarg]

Rosie Maise
Amidst windswept stone and jagged ice, a lone human shouts into the cold.

---

"I bloody hate wolves!"

The two canines that prompted this outburst were a little over half a mile away, so they thankfully didn't notice, as the pair were a bit busy prodding Frankie with their scarred snouts.

Not Frankie, Rose. Frankie's body. It's just a corpse. A husk. Not worth screaming over.

She shivered, more from the eerie scene and eerier thoughts than the cold winds. She'd known that corpse, that face- it'd been her traveling companion for the last few months, Frankie. A wild-eyed insomniac who told bad jokes and snored on the few occasions she could sleep. Rose had taken her for a deserter, what with the haunted look and the limp, but now she'd never know her story. Rose regretted not asking sooner, but most of all she regretted how their journey together had ended. There'd been a fight, over what Rose couldn't remember. It didn't much matter, anyways.

Frankie had stormed off, Rose had done the same, and that'd been the end of it- the end of their companionship, by way of her companion's end. It'd been three, maybe four days since they'd separated, and from what Rose could tell, the wolves had found her after she'd died. Otherwise she wouldn't have been so intact. Maybe she'd fallen into some water, gone quickly by way of hypothermia. Or maybe she'd starved.
Whatever it'd been, she had hoped it hadn't been painful. Or prayed, really. Prayed into the howling gale.

Turning away from the wolves and their meal, Rosie was surprised to see a yellowish light in the distance. A fire, maybe. That might be enough to stave off the cold for a bit, maybe even provide safety from the beasts. She began to walk towards it. Perhaps she'd survive this after all.

---

As she came closer to the little flame, she gradually came into view of a pair of large, burly figures. Crouching behind a mound of white powder, she examined them closer.

The first figure, a broad man with a large container of some sort on his back, seemed nice enough, and rather well-fed. Well fed was good- maybe he'd have food. That club could be trouble if he wasn't friendly, but she could always run off if that happened.

The second figure was an orc, greenish and hairy, stained with splotches of red. Not blood, she guessed- that would've frozen. They did seem rather the type for spilling blood, though, what with them being heavily armed.
And an orc. You know what those sort are like firsthand...
Hm. She'd need to be careful of that axe if things turned sour.

Her assessments completed, Rosie decided that revealing herself now probably wouldn't be wise, what with the size of the pair and the likelihood of them being criminals. Probably murderers, now that she thought about it. Or arsonists. Or banished cultists... Really, the possibilities were endless.

Better to hide, to wait and see if-

A sudden chorus of howls interrupted her thoughts. Surprised by the sudden outburst, she let out one of her own, despite her best efforts. A loud, panicked squeak before she could collect herself. Probably loud enough for the human and the orc to hear.

Shit.

[Observation Post 13]

snip[/i]

A patch of air freezes above a mound of snow. Tiny snowflakes remain suspended midair, for a brief moment.

Then the pocket collapse in on itself, and a portal blossoms into view. First, the size of a pinhole, but quickly expanding outward like a balloon. Light leaks from the growing puncture, illuminating the landing zone. You can tell someone's coming through from the other end of the portal.

"ouch ouch ouch OwaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAH~" *Crunch*

A figure by the name of Derp Daxon fell out of the portal's butthole and onto the snow pile beneath. Whirling his arms attempting to regain balance, Daxon's right foot was instead caught on the crunchy snow, which pitched him towards the side of the slope. Throwing out a hand to stop the fall, Daxon felt a sharp wretch of pain in his wrist as he rolls lamely down the white hill, fragments of ice spraying all over his eyes, nose, and mouth, before sliding to a halt. The next thing he knows, a stranger is pointing their weapons at him.

" I used to have a handle on life, but then it broke." Daxon muttered incoherently while sprawled on the ground.

The portal above coughs out a black rod before dissipating into thin air. It rolls down the pile of snow, does a few circles midair, and lands gracefully onto Daxon's head. Only distant howls answer back to him. Daxon picks himself up, dusts his cool ultra-lite wizard robes (sleeves shortened for mobility), scoops up his wand, and stood back up.

[Nagakawa]

Suzume Yoichi

The fire, it seemed, was quite lively already. In a sense, it probably wasn't too surprising that that was the case; these were the Barrens, and night was falling quickly. The howling in the wolves in the distance became louder and louder; any moment, Suzume could tell, they would be upon them.

There was one other person near the fire whom Suzume could pick out - a large male orc, roughly in his thirties judging entirely by his appearance. He wasn't sure if he was friendly or if he wanted the campfire only to himself. That said, the wolves - or whatever it was that was howling - sounded angry. Hungry, even. And though Suzume usually preferred to keep to himself, now was the perfect time to make new friends if there ever was one.

He walked down towards the campfire, sticking his giant spiked club vertically into the thick snow, where it stood upright like a little signpost. Shrugging hard, Suzume loosened the leather straps that held the huge wooden box secured to his back, unslinging it and gingerly putting it down into the snow. He cast a quick glance at the orc, smiling faintly, before then sitting down on top of his wooden box and letting out a deep, long, yawn.

"Long day", he quipped in the standard tongue. "I hope whatever's making that noise doesn't come after us."

...

[Observation Post 13]

Rose

snip

Rose was taken aback by the stranger's sudden materialization, so much so that she'd whipped out one of her crossbows and had aimed it directly at his chest. This rather unfortunate reaction was due to Rose having a generous dose of paranoia, a necessity for someone on the run.

"Gods, no! The weather's terrible, you crazy old man!"

Her crankiness, on the other hand, was less of a necessity and more of a general personality trait.

"W-who the hell are you? How are you here?"

"Dom't shmoot!" Daxon blurts out in Elvish, then in the common tongue - albeit with a bit of an accent - as it's quite hard speaking with a mouthful of snow. The stranger responded to Daxon's sudden appearance with surprising vigilance - with steady hands she nocked an iron? tipped arrow to her crossbow, the crosshair already trained on his chest. She barked out words... but in the heat of the moment, their meanings were lost. Daxon did not dare try to escalate the situation any further but instead took a small step backward, his back touching the snow mound, throwing one arm defensively in front of his face; the other grasping at the wall of snow as if trying to hold onto it. "Please! I didn't mean to do it!" The tone of his voice is shakier than Daxon would have liked, so he took a deep breath and tried again: "Where... where are we at anyway?" Daxon resisted the urge to look around, keeping his sight low... but ready, his peripherals tracing for his big black wand.

There was a small silence; shattered by the howling of wolves? somewhere over yonder.

...

[Ceystile]

Philippe Lejaunie

The young witch hunter was perched somewhere on a rock, hands the color of walnut wood holding his crossbow at the ready. Did not even carrion birds live in this cursed place? If one was going to survive in a place like this, you needed food. Peering out from under his wide-brimmed hat, the howling of the wolves being carried on the night air was unmistakable. The thick, dark locks of his hair were heavy with assorted items, his friends and enemies often said he resembled some great bird of prey.
"Seems that whatever little food they have here, the wolves may have gotten to it first." There seemed to be some faint orange glow in the distance, maybe other travelers were nearby?

He was broken out of his thoughts by what seemed to be a bright flash of light from somewhere not too far off. This wasn't the warm amber of the possible campfire, no. This was sudden and flashy and judging by the way his skin prickled, it crackled with magic, which automatically had him on high alert. What was a mage doing here, did they have anything to do with what he was sent to investigate? Were they harmless or dangerous...there was only one way to find out. Straightening himself up, he made his way slowly toward the direction the light had come from, figuring that if nobody else was around to investigate, he may as well. For the sake of himself as well as anyone who may be out here. If it were just some animal, at least he'd finally catch some fresh meat.

[Blargleyarg]

-snip-

Rosie considered the man- well, elf, judging by the ears- and their request. Their confusion seemed genuine, though this could merely indicate them as being an inept bounty hunter rather than as a complete innocent. They didn't really look the bounty-hunting type, though, despite their darting eyes.

Speaking of those eyes- they have got a bit of a worried, wanting look about them, haven't they? What're they trying so hard not to look at, I wonder?

Rose guessed it was the thing that'd appeared along with them- the strange black rod. It seemed to be of little importance or use, but one could never know. Keeping the bow trained on the elf, she reached out for the stick and swiftly stuffed it into one of her numerous pockets.

Having taken what precautions she could, she supposed she could let up on the bow for a bit and promptly lowered it. Though not by too much, of course- one can, after all, be too trusting. This way, she'd have the chance to fire if she didn't like the responses to her questions.

"We're in a frozen hellscape and there are vicious wolves everywhere. Why in the name of the One are you here?"

[Observation Post 13]

-snip-

Rosie considered the man- well, elf, judging by the ears- and their request. Their confusion seemed genuine, though this could merely indicate them as being an inept bounty hunter rather than as a complete innocent. They didn't really look the bounty-hunting type, though, despite their darting eyes.

Speaking of those eyes, they have got a bit of a worried, wanting look about them, haven't they? What're they trying so hard not to look at, I wonder?

Rose guessed it was the thing that'd appeared along with them- the strange black rod. It seemed to be of little importance or use, but one could never know. Keeping the bow trained on the elf, she reached out for the stick and swiftly stuffed it into one of her numerous pockets.

Having taken what precautions she could, she supposed she could let up on the bow for a bit and promptly lowered it. Though not by too much, of course- one can, after all, be too trusting. This way, she'd have the chance to fire if she didn't like the responses to her questions.

"We're in a frozen hellscape and there are vicious wolves everywhere. Why in the name of the One are you here?"

Daxon watched helplessly as his big black wand disappeared into the pocket - one in many - of the stranger's. A muscle twitched in his cheek and his calves bunched up like coiled springs. He lowered his hands, his wary eyes meeting her cool gaze.

His gaze flicked to the crossbow on her side. "May the light of the One bless you eternally, for not blasting me in the face with that crossy." Daxon cleared his throat, adopting a more measured tone, trying his best to imitate clerics at sermons. "I'm a sorcerer who's down on his luck. And now, this-" He points to his snow-stained robes, "...is my punishment for not buying a higher-quality portal scroll. They ripped me off!" He complained, cracking a smile at the stranger. "By the way, my name's Daxon. This is just a HUUUGE misunderstanding, y'know?"

A sudden gust of wind lifts up Daxon's sleeves. His grin disappeared as the wolves in the distance howled once more, this time louder than before.

"We... should probably get a move on? At least, to somewhere safe?" Daxon suggested tentatively. "Ah! Before I forget, what's your name? I want to know the name of such a... seasoned adventurer? so I can thank you later." He brushes snow off of his head as he speaks.

[Ovstylap]

Suzume Yoichi

The fire, it seemed, was quite lively already. In a sense, it probably wasn't too surprising that that was the case; these were the Barrens, and night was falling quickly. The howling in the wolves in the distance became louder and louder; any moment, Suzume could tell, they would be upon them.

There was one other person near the fire whom Suzume could pick out - a large male orc, roughly in his thirties judging entirely by his appearance. He wasn't sure if he was friendly or if he wanted the campfire only to himself. That said, the wolves - or whatever it was that was howling - sounded angry. Hungry, even. And though Suzume usually preferred to keep to himself, now was the perfect time to make new friends if there ever was one.

He walked down towards the campfire, sticking his giant spiked club vertically into the thick snow, where it stood upright like a little signpost. Shrugging hard, Suzume loosened the leather straps that held the huge wooden box secured to his back, unslinging it and gingerly putting it down into the snow. He cast a quick glance at the orc, smiling faintly, before then sitting down on top of his wooden box and letting out a deep, long, yawn.

"Long day", he quipped in the standard tongue. "I hope whatever's making that noise doesn't come after us."

...

After the first disturbing howl had finished, the closest traveller continued their approach. A rather large human man, his build reminded Gundrak of some of the more plump human merchants he had encountered, yet this man appeared strong, rather than unhealthily large. As he approached, Gundrak saw the man hold him in appraisal, but his expressions revealed nothing. He came closer, and closer, and said nothing. Gundrak tilted his chin to one side slightly, holding the man in suspicion as he moved his spiked club, a crude but no doubt deadly weapon, and tensed briefly in case the man attempted anything. Then, as the man stuck his club into the snow, he shrugged off his huge wooden box, and gently lowered it onto the snow. The man had stopped looking at Gundrak briefly, a mistake if he had had hostile intentions, and Gundrak relaxed, lowering his outstretched arms and leaning against the shaft of his Great Axe. The man looked up and gave him a quick smile, which Gundrak acknowledged with a nod.

He stepped aside from the fire, allowing its glow to illuminate the man's features, and moved over to his own pack, and sat upon it. He watched as the man yawned, before he spoke in common, with an unfamiliar accent. "Long day. I hope whatever's making that noise doesn't come after us." A peculiar sounding accent for sure. Gundrak grunted in acknowledgement, nodding. His great axe rested upon his lap as he sat. Almost as if summoned by its mention, that slightly unnerving howl came again, with a shorter duration this time. Even as the howl was coming to a close, a louder, higher-pitched sound carried quickly through the wind. It wasn't quite a scream, but it certainly didn't sound like the bellow of a man. Gundrak immediately turned his head in the direction of the sound, and then looked at the new arrival seated on the box. In his focus on watching this first man approach, he had stopped thinking about the other travellers coming. The other man also looked in the direction of the sound, and then watched as Gundrak stood.

"An a yeh frengar?- "One of your friends?" Gundrak asked the sitting man in the Orcish tongue. He frowned, and then spoke in Common, which he hadn't done for some time. "Your friend?" To the man, his intonation probably sounded slightly strange as he asked the question, alongside the distinctive deep and rough vocal tones of a male Orc. Gundrak looked to the man for a response, and then towards where the sound had come from. He couldn't see a person in that direction, just some minorly undulating terrain with some larger settlings of snow scattered here and there. He looked around, and noticed that the visibility was less than it was earlier, and he couldn't see any other travelers approaching.

As he listened to the human respond, they both looked as the air above one area of snow suddenly became distorted, and moments later some glowing oval of light and peculiarity came out of thin air, and moments later it appeared to spit a man out of it, closing moments later. Gundrak was startled. He immediately grunted, and held his axe more firmly. He wheeled on his feet towards the box man, and spoke quickly in Common. "What's going on? What was that sound and who came from the light?" He glared at the man, who had appeared benign at first, but now Gundrak was uncomfortable, first at the squeal which had come from nowhere to be seen, and then at the man who came from the light. And that was on top of the wolves and that other... beast, howling. He had a feeling that he would be swinging his axe today, but he was not at all happy that he didn't know when, and at who, or what.

[Blargleyarg]

-snip-

In Rose's experience, trusting elves was a bad move, but she supposed she could make an exception considering the dire circumstances. As untrustworthy as they might be, the elf most likely wouldn't try and devour her, something she couldn't say for the wolves.

Anyways, she could always put a bolt between their eyes later if they were too much of a nuisance.

"Sorry about your scroll, points. Luck's a bitch."

She paused, then continued.

"You're not wrong. Moving would be wise."

She gestured towards the fire and the pair of large figures it illuminated.

"As would making nice with those burly fellows over yonder."

Getting up from her crouch, she proffered the wizard her hand.

"I'm Rose, by the way."

[Observation Post 13]

snip

The two shook hands. Brief words of gratitude were exchanged. Their destination more or less set, the two began trekking their way towards the campfire, snow crunching beneath boots.

Daxon had to break into a limp-lunge to match Rose's pace. He's not used to the terrain, nor the biting cold.

Approaching: Campfire.

[Hinzland]

The storm has arrived in full force. A maelstrom of snow and ice, the personification of Nature's Wrath against the mere mortals, no more than ants to Her great power.

As the storm grew to full force, the fire glowed stronger in response. It was small, yet surprisingly strong, and warm. A circle of small stones surrounded it, covered in strange writing that blinked glowingly. As a result, a small dome developed, covering the area of the camp. Snow only fell in a few flakes, wind only penetrating in occasional bursts. As the light began to spread around the campsite, it revealed... The camp itself has been recently inhabited, possibly up until a few hours before, and hastily abandoned. All that was left was a bed roll, a disassembled tent, and a small pack.

Meanwhile, the howling ceased. Whoever was left out in the storm only had minutes left before the light of the fire was lost in sight.

[Nagakawa]

Suzume Yoichi

After the first disturbing howl had finished, the closest traveller continued their approach. A rather large human man, his build reminded Gundrak of some of the more plump human merchants he had encountered, yet this man appeared strong, rather than unhealthily large. As he approached, Gundrak saw the man hold him in appraisal, but his expressions revealed nothing. He came closer, and closer, and said nothing. Gundrak tilted his chin to one side slightly, holding the man in suspicion as he moved his spiked club, a crude but no doubt deadly weapon, and tensed briefly in case the man attempted anything. Then, as the man stuck his club into the snow, he shrugged off his huge wooden box, and gently lowered it onto the snow. The man had stopped looking at Gundrak briefly, a mistake if he had had hostile intentions, and Gundrak relaxed, lowering his outstretched arms and leaning against the shaft of his Great Axe. The man looked up and gave him a quick smile, which Gundrak acknowledged with a nod.

He stepped aside from the fire, allowing its glow to illuminate the man's features, and moved over to his own pack, and sat upon it. He watched as the man yawned, before he spoke in common, with an unfamiliar accent. "Long day. I hope whatever's making that noise doesn't come after us." A peculiar sounding accent for sure. Gundrak grunted in acknowledgement, nodding. His great axe rested upon his lap as he sat. Almost as if summoned by its mention, that slightly unnerving howl came again, with a shorter duration this time. Even as the howl was coming to a close, a louder, higher-pitched sound carried quickly through the wind. It wasn't quite a scream, but it certainly didn't sound like the bellow of a man. Gundrak immediately turned his head in the direction of the sound, and then looked at the new arrival seated on the box. In his focus on watching this first man approach, he had stopped thinking about the other travellers coming. The other man also looked in the direction of the sound, and then watched as Gundrak stood.

"An a yeh frengar?- "One of your friends?" Gundrak asked the sitting man in the Orcish tongue. He frowned, and then spoke in Common, which he hadn't done for some time. "Your friend?" To the man, his intonation probably sounded slightly strange as he asked the question, alongside the distinctive deep and rough vocal tones of a male Orc. Gundrak looked to the man for a response, and then towards where the sound had come from. He couldn't see a person in that direction, just some minorly undulating terrain with some larger settlings of snow scattered here and there. He looked around, and noticed that the visibility was less than it was earlier, and he couldn't see any other travelers approaching.

As he listened to the human respond, they both looked as the air above one area of snow suddenly became distorted, and moments later some glowing oval of light and peculiarity came out of thin air, and moments later it appeared to spit a man out of it, closing moments later. Gundrak was startled. He immediately grunted, and held his axe more firmly. He wheeled on his feet towards the box man, and spoke quickly in Common. "What's going on? What was that sound and who came from the light?" He glared at the man, who had appeared benign at first, but now Gundrak was uncomfortable, first at the squeal which had come from nowhere to be seen, and then at the man who came from the light. And that was on top of the wolves and that other... beast, howling. He had a feeling that he would be swinging his axe today, but he was not at all happy that he didn't know when, and at who, or what.

The storm has arrived in full force. A maelstrom of snow and ice, the personification of Nature's Wrath against the mere mortals, no more than ants to Her great power.

As the storm grew to full force, the fire glowed stronger in response. It was small, yet surprisingly strong, and warm. A circle of small stones surrounded it, covered in strange writing that blinked glowingly. As a result, a small dome developed, covering the area of the camp. Snow only fell in a few flakes, wind only penetrating in occasional bursts. As the light began to spread around the campsite, it revealed... The camp itself has been recently inhabited, possibly up until a few hours before, and hastily abandoned. All that was left was a bed roll, a disassembled tent, and a small pack.

Meanwhile, the howling ceased. Whoever was left out in the storm only had minutes left before the light of the fire was lost in sight.

The sudden nearby distortion followed by the strange oval that opened spontaneously did not go unnoticed to Suzume either, who caught sight of it in the corner of his eye and, tired as he was, sprung to his feet off of his box and yanked his club out of the snow. The orc, too, seemed to have noticed, appearing to be quite visibly startled.

"There was someone, all right", he said, raising his arm to protect his face from the biting winds.

By this time, the mysterious howling had ceased, and the storm had grown far stronger, almost completely drowning out the voice of the soft-spoken Suzume. He looked around him; the wind had whipped up the uppermost layers of snow, unearthing the remnants of the campsite of which the fire had been the centre. Close to where the strange oval of light had been, Suzume could make out two faintest of silhouettes - one male and one female, he guessed - who seemed to be making their way towards the campfire. Turning round to the other side of the campfire, Suzume could make out another silhouette; a slender, vaguely masculine looking one, stumbling haphazardly towards the campfire with a prominent limp.

"Let's hope they're nice", he quipped to Gundrak, holding his club in a neutral position to avoid looking too menacing and aggressive, yet also mentally preparing himself to fight if there was a need to do so. "I'm Suzume, by the way. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Aryuthi!" came a cry from the other side of the campfire from the male and female silhouettes approaching, from the person with the limp. Suzume recognised the word aryuthi - it came from the Iwelei language spoken by the elves of the Kingdom of Iweleth in the West, and while impossible to translate cleanly into the common tongue, was widely understood to be the equivalent of 'I come in peace'. "Mihragh'e-ryuthi!"

Suzume did not reply, turning round instead to get a closer look at the other two who were coming in towards the campfire from where the shining oval disc had been. Now partially illuminated by the campfire, the wrestler was able to make out their features more clearly; the man, it seemed, was an elf, while the woman was probably a human.

"The two of you need any help?" he called out to them forcefully. He had yelled loud as he could, but between his naturally quiet voice and the roaring winds, Suzume wasn't sure if they could hear him.

[Ovstylap]

Suzume Yoichi

The sudden nearby distortion followed by the strange oval that opened spontaneously did not go unnoticed to Suzume either, who caught sight of it in the corner of his eye and, tired as he was, sprung to his feet off of his box and yanked his club out of the snow. The orc, too, seemed to have noticed, appearing to be quite visibly startled.

"There was someone, all right", he said, raising his arm to protect his face from the biting winds.

By this time, the mysterious howling had ceased, and the storm had grown far stronger, almost completely drowning out the voice of the soft-spoken Suzume. He looked around him; the wind had whipped up the uppermost layers of snow, unearthing the remnants of the campsite of which the fire had been the centre. Close to where the strange oval of light had been, Suzume could make out two faintest of silhouettes - one male and one female, he guessed - who seemed to be making their way towards the campfire. Turning round to the other side of the campfire, Suzume could make out another silhouette; a slender, vaguely masculine looking one, stumbling haphazardly towards the campfire with a prominent limp.

"Let's hope they're nice", he quipped to Gundrak, holding his club in a neutral position to avoid looking too menacing and aggressive, yet also mentally preparing himself to fight if there was a need to do so. "I'm Suzume, by the way. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Aryuthi!" came a cry from the other side of the campfire from the male and female silhouettes approaching, from the person with the limp. Suzume recognised the word aryuthi - it came from the Iwelei language spoken by the elves of the Kingdom of Iweleth in the West, and while impossible to translate cleanly into the common tongue, was widely understood to be the equivalent of 'I come in peace'. "Mihragh'e-ryuthi!"

Suzume did not reply, turning round instead to get a closer look at the other two who were coming in towards the campfire from where the shining oval disc had been. Now partially illuminated by the campfire, the wrestler was able to make out their features more clearly; the man, it seemed, was an elf, while the woman was probably a human.

"The two of you need any help?" he called out to them forcefully. He had yelled loud as he could, but between his naturally quiet voice and the roaring winds, Suzume wasn't sure if they could hear him.

Gundrak turned back from looking into the wilderness, and took notice firstly that the man did not appear to be frightened in anyway by his own questions, perhaps he was just being concilatory by remaining so calm, or perhaps here was a man much more used to magic, and thought that Gundrak was overreacting. The orc noticed how the man was more focused on the weather around them, and more interestingly, it's effects. As snow was whipped off of the ground by the wind, the more of the campsite was revealed, and the fire blew stronger. As the visibility reduced, the man was squinting into the distance, shielding his face from the winds. He was standing now, and was holding his club, but not in a fighting stance. Nonetheless, even as he spoke, suggesting he wished to avoid any confrontation with the newcomers, his eyes revealed a willingness to defend himself. Not an immediate threat then, Gundrak thought to himself, and listened as the man introduced himself as Suzume. A strange name, unlike any Gundrak had ever heard. Gundrak nodded twice, and then clutched a fist against his chest. "It is good to meet you Suzume, Gundrak is my name."

Before Suzume could reply, some sort of word was shouted in the distance, to Gundrak it sounded like 'Arr youth ee' and he had no idea what it meant. Suzume seemed to be unphased however, and peered into the distance. The weather was getting more intense. Suzume called out, and Gundrak could tell he had put effort into the shout, but it was pitfully quiet against the sound of the roaring winds. Gundrak too called out, much louder, with a deep voice. "COME TO THE FIRE!" Even as he shouted however, a gust of wind seemed to strike his words, with his breath being disperesed rapidly to the right. He shouted again, but the wind continued to gust. Gundrak turned, and went to his pack, even as Suzume was looking towards the direction of where some other figure was coming towards them it seemed, though it was hard to tell through the snow.

He adjusted a couple of straps, and pulling out a long cordon of rope. He went to Suzume, and offered him the bundle of rope. He wrapped some over his own arm, and gave a little tug. "Suzume, if you hold the rest of the rope, I'll go out to get them, and see if they need help. The weather's getting heavy even now." He turned, for some reason not being too suspicious of the human, and began to walk, trusting that the man would take up the slack and he'd be able to find his way back, even as the wind gusted and the snow seemed to twist and flurry, changing direction ever few seconds. Gundrak strode forwards with purpose, seeking to get to the two people as possible, but without running so that the management of the rope would be easier, and in order to save himself the exertion as he waded against the wind, and through the gradually thickening layer of snow.

He looked back briefly, and noticed that some sort of dome of light had formed around the fire. He stopped for a moment and frowned. Had Suzume just used some kind of spell? He hesitated for a few moments, standing in the snow, which even then climbed up over his boots as he stood. The snow seemed to be blowing against the dome, slightly obscuring it, before curving around it, following the wind. Gundrak tilted his head either way. He had already trusted the man to hold the rope and guide him back, he might as well get to those two people, perhaps they were Suzume's friends, even though he hadn't set as much. Either way, if he couldn't find them, surely he'd be able to find his own way back to the fire- even if Suzume had chucked the rope somewhere, it wouldn't be far from the fire, and he'd soon find him. Gundrak hoped that wouldn't be necessary, and continued wading through the wind towards the direction he had seen the pair travelling from. He called out to them "COME TO MY VOICE!" No response. He called again "I'LL TAKE YOU TO THE FIRE!" Gundrak hoped that he would bump into them any moment, even as the snow was thick, and the weather seemed to have dropped. He held a muscular forearm up to shield his face, and bent his head into the wind, searching for the travellers...

[Hinzland]

snip

ACTION DETECTED: search into the storm for survivors… Rolling d20 Skill Check… adding Wisdom Modifier (-2)…

Rolled… 18!… (-2)… 16! Success!

Gundrak has found Rosie and Derp in the storm.

[Blargleyarg]

Rosie

---

Rosie wagered that she and Dax were less than fifty feet away from the fire when the blizzard struck, give or take ten or so. Really, the distance wasn't all that far that all. She could've ran as far in under a minute and Daxon with their limp probably could've done the same.

Not like this, though. With wind that hit you like a fist, fifty feet was enough for one to come face to face with death himself. She'd been out in a rough blizzard once or twice, but nothing like this, nothing that could kill in minutes.

That was probably why she fell. The shock. And why she panicked, too. She grabbed at nothing, grabbed at snow, and eventually grabbed what she assumed to be the elf's face before finding one of their much-too-cold hands and grasping it firmly.

"HEY! DAXON!"

She was practically screaming at the elf, but it hardly mattered. Her voice was too small amongst the storm's shrieking wails to be heard. She could've tried some sort of hand signalling, she supposed, but even if she could've opened her eyes the snow would've blotted out anything of the sort. This was truly a hellish storm.

Or a divine one.

Gods, of course it was. She felt stupid not having realized it before. Daxon, the storm, the wolves- maybe it was some sort of trial, like what Father Eli spoke of. Maybe she was supposed to pray?

My life is by Your will, and in absence of it is not needlessly prolonged. Thus, from rage this- this, uh- dammit, why didn't I memorize this when I'd had the chance?

In her defense, she'd been fourteen at the time, and her teacher only showed up every month or so. Such was the case with Sojourners like Eli. He'd been the teaching sort, and had been quite good at it. More notably, he'd been remarkably tolerant of her regularly hitting on his student, who'd been far less accepting of her advances. Initially, anyway- she'd worn him down eventually.

Damn cute when he wasn't acting all mortified, that one. I wonder how they're doing now...

Probably not freezing to death, which you currently are. Stand up and find the fire.

Her legs eventually obeyed her brain's commands, and after they did so she pulled the elf up after her.

They'd still freeze to death unless they found the fire, of course, which would be nearly impossible considering the fact that she couldn't see her hand in front of her face, but hey- at least they'd die quicker standing than hunkering down.

---

Rosie, who'd been blindly wandering about in no particular direction and tugging the elf along behind her all the while, was surprised to find that she could actually hear something amidst the storm's roar. Something very much unlike a wolf; a sort of bellow. She began moving towards the source of the vocalizations as best she could, all the while considering the possibilities.

A human? Maybe one of those near the fire. Maybe they've got food or shelte-

Rose's thoughts were interrupted by finding what she presumed to be the source of the noise- a large humanoid shape which she had simply walked into with a slight "whumph". Made sense, she supposed- if she couldn't see her hand in front of her face, something ten feet away was as good as invisible, no matter how large. And large they were.

"He- hello?"

[Ovstylap]

Rosie

Rosie, who'd been blindly wandering about in no particular direction and tugging the elf along behind her all the while, was surprised to find that she could actually hear something amidst the storm's roar. Something very much unlike a wolf; a sort of bellow. She began moving towards the source of the vocalizations as best she could, all the while considering the possibilities.

A human? Maybe one of those near the fire. Maybe they've got food or shelte-

Rose's thoughts were interrupted by finding what she presumed to be the source of the noise- a large humanoid shape which she had simply walked into with a slight "whumph". Made sense, she supposed- if she couldn't see her hand in front of her face, something ten feet away was as good as invisible, no matter how large. And large they were.

"He- hello?"

Gundrak looked down towards where his arm should have been, but the intensity of the blizzard meant that he couldn't even see it, nonetheless the rope was tight, and reassuring. He hadn't heard any responses to his calls, and was considering calling out again, when suddenly there was a shape in front of him, and then it had hit him, with a slight 'whumph.' Gundrak paused just for a moment, one hand holding the rope tight, the other reaching for the dagger at his belt just in case the traveller was hostile, but then they hesistantly spoke 'he-hello.' A woman's voice, from a little below him.

Gundrak leant forward, slightly able to make out elements of the woman, who was holding some man by the hand. "Hello, I'm helping you. Take the rope, it goes to the fire." He walked forward, parting their hands, and turned around, telling them to hold onto the rope and each other. Once they had managed to get a hold of the rope, he walked behind them, taking the brunt of the wind slamming against his back, and making the going much easier for them. They made their way back, holding onto the rope, and staying quiet as the wind howled around them. A couple of minutes later, though it would feel like longer, they would see a dome of light around the fire, with the snow mostly going around it. "It's safe, there is a friend making that shelter." Gundrak called out, pushing the man and the woman forward into the dome. As soon as they were through, he smiled, seeing that it was safe to go through and followed them. Immediately it was much warmer, it was still unpleasant, but not immediately life-threatening.

The fire was roaring, and Gundrak smiled at Suzume, and began to unwrap the rope from his arm. Only a little bit of snow, and a much reduced amount of wind came through the dome. "This is Suzume. I am Gundrak, and who are you two blizzard goblins?" He let out what to him was a chuckle, but to the humans may have sounded like a deep barking laugh. He looked at Suzume, and smiled. "And how on earth have you made this shelter of light?" Gundrak moved his fingers inside his gloves, and his toes inside his boots, to bring blood to them. Even as he awaited the answers, he couldn't help but think that there were the other travelers approaching, but by now they could have already fallen, and he wasn't completely sure of the direction they were approaching from, after getting somewhat disorientated by the blizzard.

[Observation Post 13]

Rosie and Daxon were only 420 ft away from the CAMPFIRE when the weather inexplicably worsened.

A blizzard, fierce and sudden, rolled through the snowy plains and swallowed the two whole. Caught off-guard, it took one step for Rosie to be knocked down by a barrage of strong wind and heavy snow. Another step, and whiteout blanketed the snowbound land in a hazy blanket of grey miasma. Visibility, according to Rosie, is at the "couldn't see hand in front of face" level. Daxon, for the briefest moment, sees...







FIRE








A faint glow in the distance.

"FIRE!" He croaks. But only puffs of steam rise from Daxon's lips. Then a gloved hand shoots out from under? him, yanks on his chin, and pulls him down to his knees. A wild-eyed Rosie sprang up from the ground - she sees the light too! - then dragging him towards the only acceptable direction: forward! --->

...

Onward they plod (Daxon mostly limping), the wind howling and bashing and colliding against their frames- the snow swirled like mud beneath their boots - into the endless whiteness searching for that faint flicker of light. Daxon can barely make out the shape of his companion now, his eyes too swollen from frostbite. But still, they move forward, ignoring the numbness growing in their leg, fighting against the cold.

Abruptly, Rosie - who's been doing most of the dragging in front of Daxon - gave a pained "whumph" as if she's just crashed into a brick wall, and let go. Following her gaze, Daxon saw the largest mother trucking orc he's ever seen, with face blurred by an amalgam of crimson and charcoal and pale. The orc grinned, showing sharklike teeth as they let their finger hover above a leather scabbard - but decided against it. Instead, the orc handed the pair a thick cordon of rope, the other end seemingly running off into the whiteout, and fell in line behind them. Daxon grasped on the rope desperately, the rope tugging him along into beyond...

But now Daxon sense it - the light, the fire! A DOME of LIGHT slowly materialize in front of them, dying the travelers in a hue of gold. The radiance washes away their exhaustion and eases the ache of their bones. The limp is gone. The whiteout lifts. Their vision returns.

"It's safe, there is a friend making that shelter." A coarse, but friendly voice behind Daxon reassures the pair, pushing them forward into the DOME of LIGHT. Daxon blink as little motes - magical? - swim across his eyelid; the winds and snow dying down around the CAMPFIRE, carefully avoiding any disruption that may bother the FOUR people here. "Holy shit. WE. MADE. IT." Daxon wheezed, before letting go of the rope that has guided them here, to safety. Somewhere, a great axe glistens under the blaze.

A roaring fire welcomes their entrance. A barrel-chested man - almost as tall as the orc - stood warily next to the fire, spiked club(the size of a flagpole???) balanced in one hand and ropes coiled around the other wrist. The orc with sharp teeth moved past Daxon and Rosie, took off the bind on the man's wrist, before finally turning around, and oh god his teeth, smiled at the two.

"This is Suzume. I am Gundrak, and who are you two blizzard goblins?" A guttural laugh.

He looked at Suzume, and smiled. "And how on earth have you made this shelter of light?" Gundrak moved his fingers inside his gloves, and his toes inside his boots, to bring blood to them. Even as he awaited the answers, he couldn't help but think that there were the other travelers approaching, but by now they could have already fallen, and he wasn't completely sure of the direction they were approaching from, after getting somewhat disorientated by the blizzard.

A brief pause as Daxon and Rosie stretch and warm-up, feeling warmth return to their fingers and toes. A small protest and whispered negotiation for a stolen item to be returned to its original owner. Then, emboldened by the flame, Daxon turned around, faced the two hulking behemoths, took a deep breath, before looking up and addressing them:

"Arh, ahem, H-hello, Suzume and Gundrak! My name is Daxon, and over there, my companion Rosie. Please don't eat us."

[Nagakawa]

Suzume

Suzume glanced at the dome that had appeared round the fire, and then back at Gundrak, shrugging in confusion. Evidently, he too had no clue whence the dome had come. Either way, whoever it was who had created it, it had come at just the right moment, sheltering the fire from the roaring winds, just as the two sojourners who had come from where the disc of light had appeared finally made their way in.

“Hello Daxon. Hello Rosie.” Suzume, a man of few words as usual, greeted them matter-of-factly and smiled faintly at the two as they introduced themselves. He held his hands up to his mouth and exhaled deeply, allowing the warm air from inside his body to unfreeze his frigid joints.

From the other side of the dome came the sound of stilted, lopsided footsteps, and the boundaries of the dome were suddenly briefly parted as a second figure stumbled through - a white-haired young man, dressed in travelling clothes that were decidedly unsuitable for the cold climes of the Barrens, a crossbow strapped to his back and a dagger to his belt. One of his ears bore a slight cauliflower-like deformity characteristic of people who got into fights or wrestled a lot (both of Suzume's ears looked like that too), but the other one was distinctly pointy, if only subtly so, indicating a low Elvish descent. He seemed to be injured; aside from his limp, he had a bruise on one side of his face, and his wrists bore manacle abrasion.

"Another one", Suzume remarked.

The young Elvish man, now inside the dome, seemed to notice that he had reached a safe place, for he suddenly broke out into a weary yet euphoric smile.

"Tih'menlié damrath Amduscianu berlé", he blurted out in relief, before stumbling forward and toppling straight into the snow in exhaustion, right between where Rosie and Daxon stood. He stared up at the two of them blankly from the ground, before adding, in the common tongue, "Hey. If y'all wanna kill me, could you do it after I have a nap?"

Suzume turned to Gundrak and shrugged again, in even greater bewilderment than before.

[Ceystile]

Ariana Forsyth
"Ah, lovely weather, isn't it?!" A young woman called cheerfully, if cheer was usually dripping with at least six layers of sarcasm as thick as the snow her leather boots were now crunching through. Light brown eyes looked up to the sky, crystals forming on her lashes and the end of her blonde braid as she smiled. The smile was more like "i have to pretend to like my awful aunt so she'll leave me the house" and less like "this is so glorious'', but it was a smile nonetheless. She tightened her cloak around her, swearing under her breath that the thicker one was currently packed away.
"This is the most beautiful snowfall! So lovely, I could write a poem about it! You know what, I think I feel one coming on right now!" Realizing that she wasn't going to get anywhere wandering around aimlessly, she decided to go for a high vantage point so that she may see any sign of light, any sign of life anywhere. As she blinked snow from her eyes and made to climb a small outcrop, her voice, loudly dripping with false cheer was carried around by the wind.

There once was a long, barren pass
Where cold ice and snow fell down fast
As the wind whips on by
I shout to the sky
"The gods, they can all kiss my ass!"

Ariana quickened her pace, just wanting to get out of this damned snow. She walked so fast she didn't exactly see where she was going, low visibility and all that. She'd first assumed when she landed on her ass that this must've been a rock or a tree that she'd run into. But she was pretty sure that trees didn't make sounds and curse when you ran into them. "What the HELL..." Her voice died in her throat as the person she'd run into gotten up into a sitting position. From what little she can make out of him, he was dark-skinned and dark haired, and whatever he had tied into that mane of his was rattling in this wind like some demented maraca.

"Watch where you're going, why don't you?! You nearly mowed me over!"
"Well pardon me sir, I was trying to watch where I was going! But since Winter decided to sit his bare white arse on earth today, I can see FUCK ALL! And neither can you, it seems!" They stared at each other in silence for a moment before she cleared her throat, properly embarrassed now. "I promise, I'm usually not this bitchy. At least under normal circumstances...I apologize."

"Well since I'm in the same freezing boat you are, I'm a bit bitchy too. My name is Philippe by the way."
"Ariana. You look like you've seen some shit, survived some battles. Any idea how we get out of this white hellhole?"
"I believe I saw the glow of a fire, I was heading toward that before the bloody snow blocked out everything.

[Blargleyarg]

---

The shape Rosie had collided with seemed to be as surprised as she was judging by their hand rising to their belt. Instead of a knife's edge, though, the figure proffered a thick cord.

"Take the rope", said the man, and the pair did, following it's length with frosty hands. As they trotted through the snow, shielded from the gale by the stranger's body, Rosie couldn't help but wonder if her prayer had been answered despite it's incomplete nature. Perhaps this was an angel of some sort?

Eh, probably not. I think I may owe Lady Luck more thanks than the One...

Rosie was snapped out this blasphemous line of thought by a sudden wave of warmth and light. She'd stepped through what appeared to be some sort of magical, orange-ish bubble, the inside of which was quite toasty. Her savior, the big, meaty fellow, had spoken of a "friend" who was "making that shelter", which she'd assumed was just a tent that she was too blinded by the wind to see. Apparently not; the orc must've been a wizard or something. Turning around to inquire to that end, Rosie found herself face to face with her savior and quickly realized a few things, namely the fact that they were an orc. Vermillion skin, large frame, pointy-toothed with lots of body paint.

"This is Suzume. I am Gundrak, and who are you two blizzard goblins?"

Outwardly, she did little more than twitch slightly before staring mindlessly at Gundrak's greenish forehead. Inwardly, however, things were more eventful.

What the fuck is a blizzard goblin? Is that an orc thing, orc slang? What do I do if I don't know the slang?

As she worriedly pondered these thoughts, Dax was thankfully kind enough to introduce the two of them.

---

Judging by Dax's whispered negotiations, he wanted a certain black rod returned to their possession. Made sense, she supposed- a wizard without their magic stick would be like Rosie without her rabbit's foot.

Well, rabbit's feet. I'm wearing, like, fifty.

In her defense, she'd been very hungry and there wasn't much to eat out here apart from moose (too big for her to kill without wasting a bolt from her crossbow), the wolves (not enough meat to necessitate messing with them) and the rabbits, who were thus her chosen quarry. Being the somewhat superstitious sort, she would cut off a foot of each bunny she killed and string them into a number of necklaces. She'd sold one to a passing merchant ("It's a novelty item, at least give me a potato! Come on, half a potato? A quarter?") and given a few to Frankie but apart from that she had the majority on her person. Those that weren't draped around her neck were stuffed into her coat which, funnily enough, happened to be made out of rabbit itself. She had mixed feelings about this.

I would've preferred cotton or wool, but there's not much in the way of spinning wheels or sheep out here. If only the little rodents were just plump and furry instead of being plump, furry, and cute. I'd certainly less guilty...

She looked down at the spoils of her hunts with remorse for a moment before before regaining her focus and considering Daxon's request.

On the one hand, if I give it back he might do something disagreeable. Like donkeyization. Gods, I'm not sure I could handle any more of that asinine misery... The first time was traumatic enough.

She shivered at the memory before continuing her thought.

On the other hand, that scrawny little leprechaun is useless without it, so if we get into any fights he's just gonna die horribly.

Yeah, I don't really want that on my conscience.

She fished out the rod from her cloak and handed it back to the mage, who thankfully did not cast any unpleasant spells on her. He did, however, immediately turn around and ask the orc not to eat them.

Dammit Daxon, don't give him any ideas.

---

Rosie supposed that it would be wise to thank Suzume and Gundrak for their help, if only so that they might postpone killing her (though she was increasingly unsure about that- if violence was truly their end-goal, surely they would've bound her while she was still disorientated or at least taken her weapons.). She turned to the each of them in turn and issued a thanks.

"Gundrak, I just wanted to say that I appreciate you getting us out of that storm. You too, Suzume. Thanks for making nice dome thing. It's very cool and, uh, magical."

Reaching into one of her interior pockets, she retrieved a bit of her stash of dried rabbit. It wasn't particularly tasty, as Rosie didn't know how spices worked or where one found them (that'd been Frankie's territory) but she thought it was decent.

"I don't have much to give in thanks, but here, have some jerky, you two. And of course you too, Daxon."

Sadly, her gift-giving was interrupted by the appearance of a grimy, pointy-eared fellow who promptly began yelling something in Elvish. Rose was understandably surprised by this, but thankfully managed not to share the particular expletive she'd been forming. The elf in question then plopped themselves down between her and Dax and spoke.

"Hey. If y'all wanna kill me, could you do it after I have a nap?"

What is it with elves and random materialization? Is it a hobby or something?

Rose sighed.

"Yeah, sure. You want some jerky too?"

[Ovstylap]

Gundrak looked at his fellow campfire enjoyers, but was somewhat disappointed, and mildly confused, by Suzume's seeming denial at having made the dome of light. How else would that protective dome have appeared though, if it wasn't of Suzume's making. Perhaps it would be a question for another time however. Of immediate interest were the two wanderers he had just brought back in. The male looked particularly worse for wear, with a slight limp, and swollen eyelids. He clearly wasn't used to the cold, and probably not the Barrens either, and Suzume didn't seem to recognise the newcomers. What was going on? Who were these people, and why were they all here?

The fella with the swollen eyelids appeared somewhat concerned by Gundrak's smile, which wasn't necessarily surprising- some others did look upon orcs with a mixture of fear or disapproval, but he wasn't particularly bothered. After all, he had just saved the man's life, which must go some way towards representing Orcs in a good light. After a quiet discussion between the two rescued people, which resulted in the passing of some stick-like object to the male, Gundrak looked at the pair expectantly. He was looking at Gundrak and Suzume, and inhaled deeply, before speaking slightly hesitantly. "Arh, ahem, H-hello, Suzume and Gundrak! My name is Daxon, and over there, my companion Rosie. Please don't eat us."

Gundrak raised his thick eyebrows, creasing his facepaint. A little of the charcoal black flaked off. Suzume greeted the two quite casually, whilst Gundrak considered how the question hadn't actually been answered. The last statement was particularly amusing. "Why would I eat the pair of you when chances are I'll be able to eat some wolf meat soon enough, eh?" He laughed with his barking laugh, and then looked at Daxon severely. "I don't tend to eat strangers too often."

Rosie had looked ever so slightly confused by Gundrak's question of what they were doing, perhaps it was because she had been called a blizzard goblin, or perhaps she didn't really have a good reason. Maybe even she was trying to hide something. Still, after looking at Daxon with some alarm after he had politely requested to not be Gundrak and Suzume's next meal, she spoke to them both. "Gundrak, I just wanted to say that I appreciate you getting us out of that storm. You too, Suzume. Thanks for making nice dome thing. It's very cool and, uh, magical." Gundrak smiled again.
"That's okay Rosie, I'm happy to help. The weather certainly did turn quickly." He then turned to Suzume. "So you did make the dome. I thought you did. You don't need to be all quiet about it, it wouldn't have been anyone else would it, eh? You've done a very good job."

He looked to Suzume for an answer, and then back at Rosie. She offered some dried rabbit to them in thanks. Gundrak saw that it was quite a modest amount, well certainly for an orc like him, but at the same time he didn't want to be inconsiderate. "I appreciate your offer Rosie, I will only take it if you have enough spare however, I have some food of my own."

Even as this interaction was taking place however, someone else entered. They immediately spoke in some strange language, perhaps it was Elvish, though it didn't sound so smooth and... well... smooth, as Elvish usually sounded. It sounded like "Tea menly damn raf Amdus keyarnoo bur lay," but was a lot quicker than that. Gundrak shook his head for a moment, somewhat surprised that he had managed to follow the quick speaking of the foreign language. Rosie didn't seem particularly impressed, he noticed. Another stranger then. The newcomer, with their pointy ears stumbled forward and fell on the ground in exhaustion. Gundrak moved to get a water skin for him, he always found it peculiar how easy it was to get dehydrated in such cold weather. Surprisingly, the exhausted man stated however the following reasonable question: "Hey. If y'all wanna kill me, could you do it after I have a nap?"

Gundrak smiled at the question, and crouched down to offer the man the water. "Here, drink this. It's just snowmelt." There was probably some leftover over-ripe mead residue at the bottom but he didn't think that necessary to mention. He looked to Daxon. "Perhaps once he's fallen asleep we can eat this one." He grinned, and winked at Daxon. Standing, he looked to Suzume, who shrugged again, and appeared somewhat confused by the whole affair.

"Me too Suzume, me too." He paused for a moment. "You are a wizard aren't you Suzume? You must be." He removed his gloves, and allowed the fire to warm them, before a thoughtful look came upon his face. "Did anybody see anyone else coming towards the fire? There's five of us now, something makes me think I saw someone else." I have no idea what direction they're coming from though." After warming his hands briefly, Gundrak went over to return his water skin to his pack, but took a swig first. He then worked to bundle the rope up, in order to return it to its place with his belongings. He then moved to sit by his axe for a few moments, in the area of firm dirt where the snow hadn't settled due to the fire.

[Observation Post 13]

Daxon chewed on a piece of rabbit leg. "Fur shure."

The guy scoots closer to the CAMPFIRE. Relaxing his shoulders, Daxon draws from the Dark Sun and channels a cantrip's worth of magic into the big black wand. Daxon then aims the rod at the runed stones near the flame.

ACTION: Attempts to gain control of the magical CAMPFIRE.